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I lead her down the hall and into my bedroom, and I’m pretty sure, from the sound of it, I hear the picture frame with Raleigh and me hit the bottom of the kitchen trash can when she passes it.

And if that is the case, I have zero desire to go back and dig it out.

I take her dress bag and hang it on my closet door, while she glances around, pausing noticeably on my bed. For the first time since it happened, I realize I’ve been markedly avoiding changing the sheets on my bed since Jake and I slept together in it.

In fact, his leftover semen is probably still there, staining it somewhere in the middle where it leaked out of me. I just haven’t been able to bring myself—

Oh, holy shit! Anxiety reaches out and wraps its hands around my throat. My freaking birth control pills!

When was the last time I took them?

And how I am just now coming to a full realization that we didn’t use a condom that night?

Wild with panic, I turn recklessly and bowl right into Chloe. She almost takes a tumble—we both do, but I don’t even remotely have the awareness or clarity to care. I single-mindedly run for the bathroom, grabbing on to the trim of the doorway to swing myself around at full speed, and grab the handle on the top drawer where I always keep my medication.

I’m violent in my motions, and the carefully organized rows I keep any and all medication in go right to hell, but I don’t care. I scrap and scrape at the stack, throwing everything I come into contact with that isn’t a little round case of very important pills right into the basin of my sink and mumbling to myself.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God…”

I can almost feel Chloe’s presence as she sidles up behind me, but I pay her no mind, finally finding the elusive case and popping it open to inspect it.

I count pills and calculate dates in my head, but fucking hell, it is a fool’s errand. I haven’t been taking this shit for at least a week and a half. I open my mouth and close it, gulping like a fish.

What am I going to do? What if I’m actually fucking pregnant? I mean, it’d be Jake’s kid, which is great—he obviously makes good kids—but holy SHIT! I’m not even dating the guy! We slept together one time, and he’s dating five other women! I swear to Zeus, this is some kind of bullshit universe full-circle crazy nonsense if I’ve ever seen it. I know it’s my fault for not being more responsible, but—

Chloe jerks me out of my mental tirade and spins me to face her. After getting one look at my face, she grabs my head on both sides with her hands and holds me steady as she gets as close as she can.

“Do not freak out,” she commands, sounding scarily authoritative like her father. I swallow thickly, but every fiber of my body wants to rebel against her. If ever there was a time to freak out, dammit, this is it!

“Holley,” she snaps, bringing my manic eyes back to her. “Do not freak out! Whatever you’re thinking about right now, stop, okay?”

I shake my head, and she grips it harder, forcing me to make it nod.

“Whatever it is, my dad is going to make it all right,” she says, showing a finesse and a heart so far beyond her years it’s not even funny.

Tears sting my nose, but this time, they’re the good kind.

It may sound weird, but I think I knew I loved her before I knew I loved him. Yeah, yeah. I love him. I admit it.

I laugh, and she frowns, fearing I’m moving even closer to the brink of a breakdown, but the truth is, no matter what, she’s just done the impossible.

Because knowing her, and knowing Jake—knowing the way they are together—makes me know that no matter what happens with him and me, I—and maybe this baby!—will be more than all right. It’s seriously the weirdest emotional rollercoaster I’ve ever been on, but Chloe being here during one of the most unexpectedly ground-shattering moments of my life makes me feel calm. Right. Purposed.

I swear, I barely even recognize myself. I should have a hole halfway burrowed to China by now.

“Come on,” I say, a wave of peace washing over me and steadying my voice. I reach up and run the backs of my knuckles along her cheek. “Let’s get ready.”

“You’re fine now?” she asks skeptically. I can’t blame her. She’s only a teenager, but I’m pretty positive she knows what birth control pills look like. Hell, I wonder if she’s put it all together already? I wince internally. God, I wonder how that makes her feel.

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