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“You were using oral contraception?” the doctor says.
I nod and he approaches Derek. “May I see?”
Derek passes them to the doctor and the doctor examines the pack and flips it over. His mouth turns up at the corner and he pulls the pack out, pointing to something on the back corner.
“Not enough people realize that oral contraceptives have an expiration date on them. Do you remember who filled this prescription?” he asks.
His eyes and Derek’s land on me, and I feel my cheeks flush.
“I, uh… I got them from the free clinic.” The truth is that I got them from someone at the strip club, who knew someone that worked at the free clinic and had a bag of them lying around. They were free and I didn’t need an appointment to get them.
“Right,” the doctor says. “Well. No reason to keep taking these.” He hands them back to Derek and heads for the door.
“When would we do genetic testing?” Derek asks, his voice sharp and full of authority. It shocks me. But the doctor nods.
“Soon,” he says. “Usually around twelve or thirteen weeks. Although to be honest, the ultrasound looked very healthy and there were no early indicators of anything concerning. Nothing that would give me pause.”
Derek stares at him, eyes wide and disbelieving. “We’ll want to do a full panel, just the same,” Derek says.
I frown, but again, the doctor takes this in stride. He retrieves a pamphlet from his pocket and passes it to Derek. “Anything else, you have my card.”
Then he’s gone and Derek is standing there, holding my expired birth control pills. His gaze is fixed on the door. I can’t read his body language, but I find myself tensing, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“I’m pregnant,” I say softly to myself.
He turns his head but his eyes meet mine. Wide, disbelieving. “You’re pregnant,” he says, just as softly.
My stomach flips and squeezes, and I don’t feel like I’m going to throw up.
“Derek?” I say, needing him to say something. Anything. Just needing him to tell me where this puts us.
At other points in my life, I’ve imagined this moment, and it always resulted in a very different decision. Not that much has changed. I don’t have a job. I’m not sure if I can make next month’s rent. But right now, in this actual situation, I realize that I’m going to do this. I’m going to have a baby. And if he isn’t committed, he doesn’t have to be.
He drops my pills in the trash as he crosses to my side. He cups my cheek and stares down at me. His eyes round as he studies me, as if trying to read something in my face as well.
“Is this something you want?” His words are careful if a bit rickety at the edges.
I nod. And then I keep nodding. Because I do want this baby. Everything is wobbly and steeped in shock, and yet the single calming thought in the midst of it is that this baby is growing inside of me. Maybe it’s just relief that I know what’s made me so sick. Or maybe it’s the medication or the headiness that comes with his palms against my cheeks.
The fear circling in his blue eyes is enough to offset the soothe of my medications. And then a smile—just a flicker at the corner of his lips—is like a balm to my own fear.
“We’re pregnant,” he whispers as if trying to convince himself.
“We’repregnant,” I repeat.
He presses a soft kiss to my lips, and for a moment, it feels like everything might just be okay.
CHAPTER14
MEGAN
Despite the hospital-grademeds still moving through my system, the drive back from the hospital in the waning daylight is enough to make me want to throw up all over again. I shut my eyes for most of it, staying quiet and Derek turns down the volume on his Beastie Boys station. I don’t realize we’ve reached the penis-peach triplex until the door opens, letting in fresh, cool air.
I open my eyes and he’s hovering over me, unbuckling my seat belt, as if he’s just going to carry me inside.
“I can do that,” I say softly.
He tilts his head, meeting my gaze. “Already got it,” he says just as softly, pulling back the belt gently. He offers me his hand and I take it, leaning into his strong forearm when I bobble on my feet.
