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“I think going to the doctor is a good idea. But don’t wait until the end of the week. See if you can get an appointment today. I can clear your calendar for the afternoon,” Whitney insisted.
I patted her shoulder. “I’m not dying, Whit. It’s probably just a virus. Nothing to be so concerned about.”
Whitney leaned in closer to me and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Sweetie, I would put money on you not having a virus.”
I gave her a bemused smile. “Well, what else could be wrong with me then?”
“It sounds like you’re pregnant.”
Whitney’s words dropped like a bomb between us. I snickered. “There’s no way. I’m on the pill.”
“And the pill can fail. I’m assuming by your response that you’re sleeping with someone, otherwise, we’re talking immaculate conception here,” Whitney said.
“No. No immaculate conception,” I muttered.
“Do you always use a condom?” she pushed. Well, this was embarrassing to talk about at work.
“Yes—actually... shit.”
Whitney nodded sagely. “You’re sick in the morning. You suddenly can’t drink coffee. You look exhausted. If I was a betting woman, I’d put money on you having a bun in the oven.”
My stomach dropped to the floor.
No.
The universe wouldn’t be that cruel.
But Jeremy didn’t always use protection. And I missed a pill once. It was months ago... but that would be enough.
God, I was such an idiot.
“I need to go,” I rasped, my mind spinning in a million different directions.
Whitney took ahold of my arm. “Take a deep breath, Lena. Calm down. It’s going to be okay.”
“I need to go... I need to see…” I couldn’t finish my sentences.
“I’ll come with you—” Whitney started to say, but I shook my head.
“I need to be alone. Please cancel my appointments and tell Adam, Jeremy, and Rob that I was sick. I have to—” I looked around, trying to remember where my purse was.
“I’ll tell them. And I’ll call you later to check on you. It might not be that, Lena. I could be wrong,” Whitney hedged.
We both knew she wasn’t. Now that it had been said, I felt the trueness in my bones.
I grabbed my purse and my jacket and headed to the pharmacy.
**
Five tests later and I was numb.
They all said the same thing.
Of course, they did.
I was 100% pregnant.
Preggo. Knocked up.
Jesus Christ, what was I going to do?
What would I tell Jeremy?
“Oh God,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. I sat on the floor of my bathroom, my knees up to my chest in the same position I had been in since I read the first test.
Pregnant.
What was I going to do?
I couldn’t even think of my options at this point. I needed to make a doctor’s appointment. I needed to…
I got shakily to my feet. What I needed to do was get the hell out of my apartment.
I grabbed my keys and my phone, put on my jacket, and left before I could freak out even more. I glanced at my phone, seeing that I had two missed calls from Jeremy and a message asking how I was feeling.
I couldn’t deal with him.
I got in my car and pulled out of the parking lot, no real destination in mind. A few minutes later I found myself at the local park where I used to spend my childhood playing on the monkey bars and jungle gym. There was something soothingly familiar about the open fields and wood chips.
I got out of my car, shoved my hands in my pockets, and slowly walked toward the playground. I sat down on the bench, not caring that it was nearly freezing outside. Despite the cold weather, the equipment was teeming with small children, their mothers either anxiously helicoptering over them or ignoring them completely, their faces buried in their phones.
What kind of mother would I be?
Was that even a question I wanted to ask?
Did it matter?
I didn’t have to have the baby. I could have an abortion, and no one ever had to know. I had always been a strong advocate for a woman’s right to choose.
I could stay pregnant and give the baby up for adoption. There were so many people out there desperate for a family. I could give that to them.
Could I do that? Carrying a baby to term and then give it away?
The only other option was to keep it. To raise it.
With Jeremy?
My stomach clenched and it had nothing to do with morning sickness.
Hearing about Jeremy’s childhood had been eye-opening. While it had answered why he sucked at relationships, what did that mean for him as a father?
He said he didn’t think he’d want a family. He had only recently decided he might want to have a semi-serious relationship. If there was one thing I knew, it was Jeremy Wyatt wasn’t ready to be a dad.
I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, willing myself not to start crying. I felt lost. And overwhelmed. And ready to fall completely and totally apart.
