The last few weeks had been insane. Like, working twelve-hour days to get the centre ready, insane. I hadn’t thought about my period.
Shit.
How many days late was I?
When was my last period, even?
I dropped my towel and stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes sliding down to my stomach. There was nothing there, no bump or any sign that Cole and I hadn’t been careful—though there were a few occasions when we’d gotten a little carried away.
When was the last time?
One… no, two months ago. We’d just had our new kitchen fitted after making do and fixing the old, broken one. We’d had a party, friends, and family over to celebrate our latest completed room.
I was tipsy—Cole far worse. He’d carried me to bed and…
No condom.
“Oakley, you okay in there?” Cole asked through the bathroom door.
Jolting, I picked the towel back up and covered my stomach. Stupid move considering the door was locked, and if I was pregnant, it was too soon to tell.
“Yeah, erm, be out in a minute.”
“Okay, babe.”
I got dressed in pyjamas and used my phone to book a private ultrasound, snagging an appointment for the next afternoon.
Cole would still be at work so I wouldn’t have to lie to him. But the website said the early dating scan would take twenty minutes. I’d have to get home fast to beat him.
I wanted to be sure before I told him. The next morning, I’d do a pregnancy test and cancel the appointment if it was negative.
But, yeah, it’d been two months since I’d had a period.
I was so stupid.
Why wasn’t I sicker? The odd bought of nausea was all I’d had, which I put down to being busy and forgetting to eat.
What the hell was that doing to the baby?
Possible baby.
Cole was sitting on the end of the bed when I left the bathroom.
Arching a brow, he asked, “What’s going on?’
“Nothing, why? Well, besides being exhausted and needing about three solid weeks of sleep.”
He held his arms out, and I went straight to him, sitting on his lap. “What can I do?”
I pressed my forehead to his and closed my eyes. He was a miracle. It didn’t seem possible to love someone as much as I loved him. “You can hold me in bed. I need to fall asleep in your arms.”
I really needed that because I was a bit of a mess inside, my mind on my belly. He deserved to know, but I couldn’t mention it yet. He was going to be ecstatic, and I didn’t want to disappoint him if there was another reason for my missed periods.
They stopped for six months when I first moved to Australia.
Stress, the doctor had said.
I’d been stressed again, getting this centre open, selling my soul to the press so that I could afford to do it.
