Until my doctor told me I was pregnant, those tests could still bewrong.
But if I threw up now, in the middle of the day, out in public… how could I even try to fool myself that maybe I wasn’t knockedup?
All I could think about, while they argued over me, were the days on my calendar. Counting them off, one byone…
Five weeks. It had been five weeks since the start of my last period. Technically, that meant I was five weekspregnant.
That was what my doctor was going to tellme.
You’re five weeks pregnant,Elle.
Congratulations.
Shall we book an ultrasound to confirm the date of conception, and you can meet yourbaby?
The voices around me were raised. I heard Zane and Jesse yelling, and then Brody. I felt a hand on me; someone was rubbing my back. It was Maggie, probably. The hand felt small and gentle, warm and full ofstrength.
At that point, I started to cry. I jumped up and ran for the bathroom to coverit.
Crying in front of everyone in the middle of all this shit was probably worse than throwing up. Throwing up could be attributed to random food poisoning or any number of things. Crying, on the other hand, was a dead giveaway that my life was spinning, suddenly and wildly, out of mycontrol.
So I dove straight into the bathroom at the back of the church and purged my guts inprivate.
I’d never felt so fucking sick in mylife.
Maybe it was just some fucking vicious flu, I told myself, or this was all some crazy hallucination. The pregnancy tests were just adream.
But all the while, I knew I was kiddingmyself.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Elle
That evening,I walked into a blues-rock bar out in the suburbs where I hadn’t set foot in a long, long time. It was Saturday, but it was still early. Some band was setting up on the small stage in the corner, only a few customers—mostly rough-looking men—drinking at the scattered tables. A waitress was cleaning glasses and the bartender was setting up behind thebar.
I took a seat at the bar, alone, feeling eyes all overme.
Flynn took a tablenearby.
When the bartender came over, I ordered a water, and then I waited. I was wondering, already, if this was a shit-poor idea. But right about now, I’d pretty much run out of otherideas.
“Took you long enough, darlin’.” A familiar voice came from behind me, and I turned to find Jude strolling up. “Been wondering when you’d come knocking on mydoor.”
He took the bar stool next to me and motioned for the bartender to bring him a drink, as he rubbed motor oil off his hands with a rag. He’d come in through the side door, from the garage next door, where he’d told me he was working on one of hisbikes.
He hadn’t expressly asked me to come meet him here when I’d gotten him on the phone, and I didn’t tell him I was coming. But it’s not like I needed a formalinvitation.
He looked at me as I sipped my water. I was nervous, collecting myself. Afraid of having another freak-out like the one at the church, which he’d witnessed, along with everyone else. I was determined to get through this conversation without bursting into tears or throwing up again. The result was that I’d gone way the hell in the other direction—and switched into ice queenmode.
Maybe Jude sensed it, because hechuckled.
I declined the drink he offered when the bartender brought him one. I was pretty fucking sure I was pregnant, and just the thought of booze was making my insides churn. The smell of it in this place wasn’thelping.
“You’ve always been cool with Seth,” I said, once the bartender had left us alone, my tone mildly accusing. “Can’t you talk to Jesse andBrody?”
“No,” he said simply, and took up his drink. “You’re feelin’ Seth, is that it?” He sipped his whiskey and added, “You trust he’s clean? And he’s gonna stay thatway?”
“Yes,” I said. “Doyou?”
