Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Brooke sighed. “I suppose so. But it does seem rather unfair.”
“Life’s unfair, hon.” I’d learned that at a young age as I’d had a massive crush on an older married man who, oh yeah, happened to be the father of my best friend. Talk about unfair.
That one comment that Brooke had made was circling in the back of my mind like a shark, complete with the Jaws theme. “Hey, hon, I’m all tired from crying. I think I’m going to take a nap.”
“Of course!” Brooke sprang to her feet. “Hey, you text me, all right? You keep in touch. This will all be over soon, the storm will pass, yada yada yada.”
I nodded and hugged her tightly, then saw her to the door.
Holy shit. My legs nearly gave out as I closed it behind her and I had to rest my forehead against the wood for a moment, breathing deeply, trying not to throw up or hyperventilate.
My period. When was the last time that I had my period?
Brooke was right. Normally I only got a massive ice cream craving—and huge mood swings—during my period. I didn’t get extra cranky or anything but I did cry a lot more. Holy shit.
My mind was racing and blank at the same moment, somehow, and I dashed into the bedroom to put on some clean clothes.
The drug store was just around the corner, but I cleaned up the food and ate the rest of the ice cream while I waited just to be sure that Brooke had really left. I’d told her I was taking a nap, I couldn’t have her see me walking around right after, and going to a drug store of all places. She might not put two and two together but if she did…
It’s okay, I told myself. My period had been late before plenty of times. It didn’t really mean anything. It was all going to be fine.
But the fact was, we’d never had sex with a condom. I hadn’t cared, so out of my mind with desire and pleasure, and I trusted that Michael wouldn’t do anything if he wasn’t clean. I was clean, and I didn’t plan on being with anyone else.
Of course my dumb stupid overeager horny ass would forget that having sex without a condom wasn’t just a way to get an STI, it was a way to get fucking pregnant.
I got to the drug store and grabbed a pregnancy test. No, wait, two. No, three. Just in case. Three. Yeah. That was the magic number, right?
I also grabbed some dish soap and a bag of potato chips. Dammit, I was still hungry.
When I got home, my hands were shaking. I hurried to the bathroom and had to try four times before I could get the damn box open and get the stick.
So many times, I’d seen this in movies or television. I had always watched, a little bored, wondering why they were bothering to go with that storyline again.
Now I was living it.
It took what felt like forever to get my body relaxed enough to even pee. I was definitely having a panic attack, like I’d never had one before.
I paced the bathroom, my hands still shaking, not entirely sure that I wasn’t going to throw up.
At last the stick gave me the results.
Positive.
“No, no, no, no, no,” I chanted, dazed, sounding delirious or drunk or both. I grabbed the other two tests and did those as well.
Positive.
Positive.
Three tests lined up in front of me like little soldiers, spelling out my doom.
I had never been claustrophobic. Not my whole life. But just then it felt like the walls were truly closing in around me, like I had to get out of the house or I’d die. I wanted to claw at the floor. My breath was coming in harsh and fast. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t relate anything. I just wanted to run. Like an animal caught in a trap.
Hiding the pregnancy tests was the first item on the list. I got rid of all the evidence. Then I got outside.
The fresh air helped. Thank fuck. That cleared my head a bit. Okay, okay, okay, think for fuck’s sake, Stevie, think!
I wasn’t an idiot. Okay, so maybe I was, seeing as I was currently pregnant. I could’ve gotten rid of it but… I had always wanted to be a mother. So what if it was happening earlier than planned? I still wanted it. I would have the baby.
All right, so, first decision made. Keeping the baby.
Second decision: Should I tell Michael?
Almost as soon as I thought it, I dismissed it.
No. Michael had already been a father once and had raised a child to adulthood. He didn’t want to really go through that again, did he? I had assumed that, once I won him over and we started dating officially, that I would bring up the subject of kids and let him know that was a dream of mine. I had even been willing to discuss adopting an older child, since older children so rarely got adopted. It wasn’t the same as having a baby of my own but it would give a child in need of a loving home the care and family that they deserved.