“Fuck,” he mutters. “Should’ve kept my mouth shut.”
Reaching over, I grab his hand. Screw ‘shouldn’t’. Emotion doesn’t always play by the rules. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
13
Ashlin
On Monday, Seth accompanies me to get a blood sample taken. Nerves crowd my stomach, and I can’t tell whether the anxiety or excitement is strongest. He slips his hand into mine as we’re led into a room by a smiling nurse.
“There’s absolutely no need to stress,” she assures us as she guides me to a padded bench and waits for me to pull up my sleeve. “This won’t hurt a bit, and you’ll have an answer either later today or tomorrow.” She wipes cleansing alcohol on my forearm. “Even if it’s not the result you want, it’s better to know than not, isn’t it?”
I catch Seth’s eyes and rub my lips together. I’m not sure I agree. If I don’t know, then I can exist in a state of blissful ignorance.
“We’ll be fine,” he tells me.
We. I like that.
The nurse nods approvingly. “That’s the attitude.”
She straps a band around my arm. I feel a prick, and force myself not to look. While I’m not as squeamish as some people, I don’t love getting my blood taken. Blood belongs inside the body.
“There.” She withdraws the needle and presses cotton wool over the spot where it had been. “All done. Can you hold this down for a moment?”
I place a finger on the cotton wool, trying not to think about the blood beneath it. A moment later, she gestures for me to move my hand and slips a Band-Aid over the top.
“Thanks.” I allow hope to fill my heart. In only a matter of hours, I might be receiving the news that I’m pregnant. God, I hope so.
“No problem.” She makes a note on my paperwork and hands it over. “Take this to the administrator. Best of luck.”
I stand, and Seth is at my side in an instant, wrapping an arm around me. I smile up at him, letting my optimism shine through. “We might be pregnant.”
He kisses my nose, and my heart flutters. I tell myself it’s just a gesture of affection—it doesn’t mean anything—but I don’t really believe it. There’s something between us. There always has been.
“I hope we are,” he says, and hugs me tighter. “But if we’re not, we’ll make it through.”
We retrace our earlier steps back out to reception. “Thank you for coming with me.”
He glances down. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. You’ll call me when you hear from them?”
“Absolutely.” I just pray it’s good news.
Once we’ve handled the paperwork, Seth drops me off at work, with yet another promise to call him as soon as I hear anything.
A little before five in the afternoon, not long after I return home from work, I get a phone call.
“Mrs. Isles?”
“It’s Ms. Isles, actually,” I correct. “Can I help you?”
“This is Ansel Arnaud from the medical laboratory. I’m calling with regard to your pregnancy test.”
My heart leaps to my throat, and I lower myself onto my bed. “Do you have the result?”
“We do.” He clears his throat. “It’s negative.”
“Oh.”
My world crashes down around me.
