Stupid.
“Millie? You okay?” he asks, eyes searching.
I paste on a smile. “Yeah. Fine.”
He frowns. “Did I say something wr—”
“No. No.” I shake my head. “I just… That’s not for me. Plan B, I mean.” I don’t tell him how much I wanted the baby I lost. How if I things had been different, she—if she was a she—would be due in three weeks. If I had been able to keep him—if he was a him—I’d be complaining about my swollen feet and my sore back and needing to pee every ten minutes.
And loving every minute of it.
My dry mouth suddenly floods with saliva, and I swallow hard.
“I wasn’t—” Luc stops, frowning. “I didn’t mean to suggest—”
Reaching over the two inches that separate us—two inches that now seem like two miles—I pat him quickly on the knee. “No, no. Of course.”
His frown etches deeper, and he sits up straight. “Because if you were preg—”
I shake my head hard. So hard, my brain might rattle. “I’m sure I’m not.”
This is a lie. I’m sure of nothing. Not a damn thing.
* * *
“I’m pregnant.”
It’s the fourth time I’ve said it this morning, and for the fourth time, Kath gives me an exasperated stare. “Stop saying that. You know it’s too soon to tell.”
I make a noise of dispute in my throat while she unwraps her chopsticks. We’re between appointments, and Kath grabbed Peking Gardens takeout for lunch. I poke at my Singapore Mai Fun, trying to decide if I’m nauseated or just too stressed to eat.
Reading my mind, Kath points her chopsticks at my to-go plate. “You’re hungry. You told me yourself you skipped breakfast. Eat.”
Repressing the urge to snarl, I hook a bite of noodles and shrimp and shovel it into my mouth. And it’s good. Really good. When I eat another bite, Kath chimes in.
“See? You’re getting yourself all worked up for no reason.”
I shake my head, mouth still full. “Oh, there’s reason. How could I have been so stupid?” I stab a fancy cut carrot with a chopstick. “I’d just had a shot of antibiotics. While on the Pill. I know that antibiotics mess with the Pill. Not that the Pill even works for me,” I add with a shrug.
Kath winces. “I did read an article about that once. The pill doesn’t work for a small percentage of women. Like not at all.”
I snort. “Nothing—short of celibacy—works for me. And clearly not even that because…” I open my mouth to say Luc’s name, but then shut it, afraid I’ll start crying.
Why did I think this time would be any different? Why did I thinkhewould be any different?
Because,a voice from deep within me whispers,he’s Luc.
My throat wants to close on a sob. I shove another bite of noodles into my mouth and swallow them almost without chewing to force it open. The battle between constricting muscles and Chinese takeout is epic. Thank goodness the noodles win, or my life might hang in the balance.
As I recover, I admit to myself why I believed things would be different with Luc. Because he knew, even better than Carter did, what he might be getting into. He knows the Delacroix day-to-day—better than Carter ever did because Aunt Pru was still with us back then. Helping out. Keeping us afloat. And back then, we were still in a state of shock.
But Luc has seen us as a family redefined. He knows us from the inside.
And he was warned. Carter never took me seriously when I said my chances of getting pregnant were astronomical.
But Luc did.
At least, I believed he did.
