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“It could be implantation bleeding. What about this month, are you late?”

“I don’t know.” I can’t think. “The doctor gave me a test.” I twist around and pull it from under the pillow. “But I can’t be, Raylin.”

“Call me Ray,” she says and taking the long, thin package she starts reading the instructions. “Look, let’s get this over with. Then you know and can forget all about it, okay?”

As if it’s that easy. As if, after getting back even a tiny sliver of hope, you can pretend it never happened, that you didn’t have your heart shattered again.

“Come on. You don’t need first morning urine for this one. We can do it now.”

“Now?” I’m not ready.

Probably never will be.

“Yes. Come on.” She pulls on my hand, and I get up, the quilt falling, leaving me naked.

“Crap.” I wrench my hand free and attempt to cover my boobs.

“Holy shit.” Raylin’s eyes are so big I swear they’re about to bug out of her head. “Your boobs. Megan said they get bigger, but your nipples… Oh God. Do they hurt?”

I glance down at them. “Yeah. A little.”

Raylin laughs softly, and points at the bathroom. “If you’re not pregnant, then I’ll eat my shoe. So get in there, and let’s try this test.”

***

My stomach is twisted up so badly it’s a toss-up whether I’ll throw up or pass out. The test is resting on the sink, the white tube looking innocent as you please.

I wrench my gaze away.

I look back at it.

And here I thought the stress of this week was over.

“Another two minutes to go,” Raylin says, tapping her watch and sits down beside me on the bathroom bench. “Breathe, Layla.”

But how can I? I’ve never taken such a test before. Never thought I would. I’d convinced myself this would never happen, and that I should suck it up, so how is it possible that I’m sitting in the luxurious bathroom belonging to Hawk’s friend, acid chewing on my stomach lining, hands gripping the edge of the bench like a lifeline, waiting for the test to tell me what I already know?

Those lines will never appear in the small window of the test. It won’t be positive. The possibility of me getting pregnant naturally is something like zero point one percent.

Knowing this doesn’t help with the nerves, however, and the urge to throw up is getting stronger. Oh man, I can’t puke on top of Raylin. She’ll never speak to me again.

Unable to stand this any longer, I push to my feet and stomp into the bedroom. Good God, so glad Hawk isn’t here right now. I’d probably never have gone through with it if he were.

“Layla.” Raylin follows me, slender arms folded under her breasts. “You okay?”

“Everyone keeps asking me this.” I walk to the walk in closet, open the door, shut it again. Then I pace to the window and back. “Look, it’s been a weird few days, all right? Lots has happened, both good and bad. Very bad, and I… I can’t take it all in. I thought I could bounce right back from such things but I can’t. And now… this.” I gesture at the open bathroom door. “I had resigned myself to the fact it could never happen, and it can’t happen, but still…”

I sink down on the bed and rub at my eyes.

“It’s been tough on you,” she says quietly.

“But that’s the thing. I’m tough. I mean, sure, I get my nails done and put highlights in my hair, I like shopping and going for drinks with my friends—but I’m not the kind of girl who breaks down all the time, who cries and can’t get over a nightmare.” I push my hair out of my face. “I’m not. It annoys me. When my parents got divorced, I didn’t cry. When my cat died, I didn’t cry. God, it’s as if I’ve turned into someone else.”

Raylin says nothing. She checks her watch.

My stomach does more somersaults. “What?”

“One minute left.”

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