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“You heard me. Fuck. Right. Off.”
“Do not talk to your father that way!”
“Why not? He clearly has no respect for me. I’m not getting down on my knees to beg for you to forgive me. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I started seeing them. In fact, I’d do it all over again! We cared for each other deeply. They made me feel cherished and respected and safe. As far as I’m concerned, everyone and their opinions can go jump off a fucking cliff!”
“Julianna!” Mother cried. “How can you speak to us this way?”
I laughed bitterly. “That’s rich, coming from you. Maybe you should take a good long look in a mirror before you try the holier-than-thou schtick on me. You can’t control me anymore. I don’t have to live under your thumb and constantly seek your approval. I realize now that it’s an impossibility to live up to your standards, so why should I care? I don’t regret a single second and I’d run to them again in a heartbeat. They’re good for me. They make mehappy. I don’t expect you to completely approve of us, but the least you can do is try to understand that I’ve never been as happy as I was with them.”
“Was?” Dad echoed. “Does this mean you’re no longer with them?”
“Not that it’s any of your concern, but no. I called things off. There’s just too much going on right now and… Whatever. I don’t feel like talking about it anymore.”
Dad sighed. “That’s a relief. The thought of you out there gallivanting with those gigolos makes my stomach turn.”
I sneered. “Don’t you dare call them that again.”
“It’s what they are!”
I shook my head. “You know what? I’m wasting my breath. You’re not even listening to a word I’m saying. Don’t bother calling me again.” I ended the call and tossed my phone to the foot of the bed, tucking my knees tight to my chest as I willed my heart to steady.
* * *
I made it a week before finally deciding to go see a doctor. I thought maybe I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown or something, teetering on the edge of an anxiety attack. Every morning I’d wake up so nauseated my head spun.
Foods I would normally devour in one sitting made me so sick I had to run to the bathroom. My skin felt feverish and sensitive all over. None of my pants fit because of constant bloating.
“Am I dying?” I asked my doctor. “Seriously, am I dying? Because I feel like death.”
My doctor laughed. She had a sweet face and kind, understanding eyes. Paranoia lingered in the back of my brain; a tiny voice somewhere deep down telling me to be careful.
Was my doctor the type of person to indulge in late-night entertainment talk shows? Did she keep up to date on the world of sports? If she did, she made no comment. I, for one, was thankful for her professionalism.
“You’re not dying, Julia,” she said with a gentle smile. “Far from it.”
I furrowed my brows. “Then what’s going on?”
“May I ask when your last period was?”
My mind blanked, my face freezing. Now that I thought about it, whenwasmy last period? I was fairly regular, and I even had an app on my phone that helped me keep track so there weren’t any unexpected surprises, but…
“Um, probably a month and a half ago?” I said. “But I’m not pregnant. I have an IUD.”
“I’m afraid that while this type of birth control is incredibly effective, it’s not a be-all, end-all solution. There’s still a one percent chance of pregnancy occurring.”
“Are you serious?”
My doctor nodded. “The test I had you take shows a positive reading. You’re pregnant, Julia.”
I unconsciously let a hand fall to my stomach, silently marveling at the odds. A giddy little laugh bubbled past my lips. I was pregnant?
And then, immediately after that thought:Which one of the guys is the father?
I had a one in three shot of guessing right.
“Julia? Are you alright?”
“I’m… Yeah, I’m fine. I think.”
