Page 191 of Breathe Like Hell

“I support you. That’s what I have to say. And we’re going to figure it out.”

“Fine.”

I pulled back the comforter on Micah’s bed and climbed onto the mattress, facing away from both of them as I laid on my side with my knees tucked up to my chest, endless tears spilling down my face and soaking the pillow. Neither of them stopped me. My glazed-over eyes stared out the window at the gray sky and tops of the pine trees.

There were pills I could probably take at home, to prevent this from happening.

I didn’t know much about that, but I knew this pregnancy couldn’t have been very far along. At the most, two months.

Two months.

Pregnant.

What the fuck.

No.

Mason and Micah were conversing behind me in hushed tones, but I was too stuck in my own head to care about listening to what they said.

Knowing there was something inside of me was so indescribably strange. I wanted it out immediately. More tears soaked my face and the pillow.

I wasn’t going to continue the cycle I’d been born into. I knew I wasn’t ready or healed enough to have a baby. My life wasn’t together. I couldn’t provide the type of life a child deserved. I was too fucked up.

Footsteps left the room and I looked over my shoulder to see Micah leaving the room. My eyes flitted to Mason’s stony face.

“You lied to me,” I said through my quiet tears. “You said this wasn’t possible.”

“Because it’s not, Dakota. It’s not possible.”

I pulled the covers up to my chest, wiping beneath my eyes, sobs stuck in my tight throat.

“Then what is happening? Why do those tests say positive?”

“Maybe because you’ve added a third guy to your rotation?”

My jaw dropped open, my cheeks flaming red, his accusation slicing clean between my ribs.

“Get out,” Micah snapped as he stalked back into the room. “Get the fuck out before I fucking kill you.” He grabbed Mason’s shoulder and ripped him backwards, then shoved him towards the door.

“Like you didn’t say the same fucking thing!”

“I didn’t.”

“And you can’t kill me.”

“I can try.”

Micah lifted me off the bed, then brought me downstairs in his arms and set me on the couch, covering me with a blanket. Mason was still lingering near the bottom of the stairs, watching us.

“Mason, I said leave,” Micah ordered.

“I’m not fucking leaving, and you’re completely insane if you think I am. She’s literally somehow pregnant with⁠—”

“Well I’m not going to be pregnant very long,” I reminded him through tears, pulling the blanket up under my chin. “I’m going to get rid of it.”

Mason glanced over at me. “Okay. Fine.”

Micah came back into the room, glaring at Mason with the sort of hatred that could only be built on great familiarity. He held a cold water bottle for me, his free hand flexing at his side. I didn’t take the water bottle, so he set it on the coffee table.