“Let’s get you home,” he says.
I love when he calls it home, making it sound like the most natural thing in the world. Usually, I’d be excited to head back up the mountain. Back home. But as Brewer climbs into the seat next to me, reversing away from the diner, I feel nothing but buzzing anxiety. The pregnancy tests seem to burn like hot coals in the bottom of my bag, and I swallow down another wave of nausea, trying to keep my voice light as Brewer asks about my day. But my thoughts are somewhere else entirely.
What if I really am pregnant?
It’s happening so fast…so soon…
“You okay, Josie?”
Brewer’s deep voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I blink in surprise when I see we’re already back at the cabin.
“Yeah, fine,” I say quickly. “Just tired.”
I smile at him, but he doesn’t look convinced. His eyes are narrowed, watching me, his brow creased with concern.
“Let me get a fire going,” Brewer says as soon as we’re through the front door. “Then I’ll make you a hot chocolate and you can rest on the couch, okay?”
“Thanks, that sounds good. I’m just going to the bathroom…”
I leave Brewer crouched by the hearth and hurry into the bathroom with my bag clutched to my chest. I take the pregnancy tests out of their packaging with trembling hands, using them one by one, then lining them up on the floor and waiting for a result. It feels like forever, even though it takes less than a minute for the blue lines to appear.
Two lines.
Two lines.
Two lines.
I stare down at the tests, shellshocked. Then Brewer’s voice comes through the door.
“Josie?” He knocks. “You okay in there?”
I don’t answer straight away. I can’t. I just stay where I am, slumped on the bathroom floor with my back against the bathtub, looking at six blue lines. My brain has stopped working.
“Josie.”
His voice is more urgent this time, and I finally look away from the tests, blinking up at the door.
“I’m okay,” I manage. “Just…just give me a second.”
I gather up the tests with shaking hands, wrapping them in a piece of tissue. Then I splash some water on my face and muster up every scrap of courage as I open the bathroom door.
Brewer is standing right there. He takes one look at me and says, “Josie, what’s wrong?”
“I…”
Brewer’s eyes drop to my hands, which are still clutching the tissue-wrapped tests.
“What are you holding?”
It feels like I can’t get enough air into my lungs. My head is spinning, everything strange and surreal as Brewer takes a step toward me and lifts my hand, gently unfurling my fingers. He unwraps the tissue and freezes.
“I’m pregnant,” I whisper.
The word lands like a bomb in the silence between us. Brewer doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. He stares at the tests in my outstretched hand, and I watch his face carefully, my heart hammering so hard I can hear it in my ears.
“I missed my period.” The words come out in a rush. “I didn’t even realize. Then today I felt nauseous, and I did the math and I—” I swallow hard, my throat tight. “I bought three. Just to be sure.”
He takes the tests from my hand very slowly, like he’s handling something fragile—an egg he doesn’t want to smash. He still doesn’t speak, but for some reason, I can’t seem to stop.
