She goes stiff then exhales. “What?”
“We need to talk about it,” I tell her gently. “You know that.”
She nods but turns her head away. “Yeah,” she whispers. “I know we do.”
But she doesn’t say anything and for long minutes neither do I.
“It was a surprise, yeah?”
Her eyes flick to mine then away. “Yeah. I, um, haven’t been feeling that well, but I just thought I was tired because things were so busy. Today I started doing the math, realized I haven’t had my period in a while and…I took the test.”
“Tests.”
“What?”
“Tests, plural,” I say, hitching my head toward the sink.
She gives me a ghost of a smile. “Let’s just say I didn’t really want to believe the results of the first test.”
“So, five?”
“One of every type of test they sold.”
I chuckle even though my heart is pounding. “Covered your bases.”
A nod. “I try to.” Her shoulders slump. “Or in most cases, anyway.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur.
She just sighs and shoves her hair out of her face. “This wasn’t in my five-year plan.”
This wasn’t in my whole-life plan.
“What was?” I find myself asking.
Her eyes come to mine, hold. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t know,” I lie.
I shouldn’t. It’s why I forced myself to walk away—one night together, and I was already imagining a future with white picket fences and a minivan packed with kids with Harper’s eyes, her hair, her smile.
Insanity. I can’t have kids, can’t do that to them.
So, I ended things between us even though it was the last damn thing I wanted to do.
And yet…I still want to know everything about Harper, anyway.
She sighs again. “Look. I feel like shit, yeah?” she mutters. “And, like you said, this was a surprise, so I don’t have it all figured out just yet.”
We’ll figure it out together, I almost say.
But…I can’t.
“Yeah, I feel that,” I say instead and her eyes flick to mine, something like derision in the hazel depths.
She sighs and waves a hand at her still-flat stomach. “So, if you want an answer about what I’m going to do…”
My stomach twists. “Christ, I’m not going to tell you to have an abortion, Harper.”
