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“I’m super excited,” I assured her. “More for you than me, though. Your happiness is what’s important.”
“Aw, you’re the bestest bestie a girl could ask for, and you’re going to make an amazing honorary aunt.”
My breath caught in my throat as I realized we might share our first pregnancy together. But first, I had to find out if I was actually carrying Clay’s baby. “I absolutely will. And I’m so sorry, but I need to run.”
“Um, sure. But I thought you had to tell me something, too?”
“I do, but it pales in comparison to what you just shared, so it can definitely wait.” At least until I knew exactly what I needed to tell her. “Can I call you back later?”
“Of course.”
“Love you. Talk to you soon.”
After I disconnected, I pulled up the grocery delivery app and ordered a few pregnancy tests since I couldn’t be sure which one was best. Luckily, the option to make it a priority was available, so the driver arrived thirty minutes later—before Clay returned from his workout. I raced into the bathroom and peed on three different sticks.
I had just finished washing my hands when I heard the door to the apartment slam shut before Clay called, “Baby, I’m back!”
“I’m in the bathroom! Be out soon!”
I almost panicked when his footsteps came down the hall and stopped in front of the bathroom. “No rush. I need to return a call from my contractor anyway.”
“Okay.” My gaze remained locked on the pregnancy tests lined up in a row on the bathroom counter. I heard the low murmur of his voice in the background while I counted down the clock, and the results appeared on each of the little windows. Positive, positive, positive. There was no doubt about it…I was pregnant.
Clutching one of the tests in my hand, I slumped against the bathroom door. While I was wrapping my head around the results, Clay’s half of the conversation finally registered.
“Were you able to turn the master closet into exactly what my dream woman wants?”
Dream woman?
Clay and I had never talked about what I would want for a master closet, so he couldn’t be talking about me.
“Perfect. We’ve been looking forward to moving in, so I’m relieved to hear that the renovations are finally done.”
My stomach roiled, and I dropped to my knees in front of the toilet just in time to puke up everything I’d eaten today. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but not from the vomiting. I was hurt, and upset, and…royally pissed.
After splashing water on my face and gargling mouthwash, I stared down at the other two tests while I tried to figure out what to do. While I was in here barfing because I was carrying his baby, Clay was out there chatting with his contractor about the dream closet he’d built for his…his dream woman? The one I had no idea even existed, or else nothing would have ever happened between us in the first place.
Clearly, I was just a fling, and he was excited to move on with the rest of his life. With his woman, who must have been waiting to move to New York when their fancy house was ready. Which it apparently was now, so he’d have no reason to stay with me anymore.
I was so angry, my head felt as though it was about to explode. My breathing was choppy, and my heart was racing in my chest. I needed him out of my place. Now.
13
Clay
Grinning like a loon, I hung up the phone and tossed it onto the kitchen counter. I couldn’t wait to show Marleigh her new home. The construction company had grumbled about my last-minute changes, but they couldn't complain too much since I was willing to pay. And they’d only delayed our move-in date by less than a week. They wouldn't be done with everything by then, but none of the additions were big enough projects to keep us from moving in tomorrow.
The movers would be here at ten in the morning to pack everything up and then move it to the new house. I’d mentioned this to Marleigh a couple of days ago, thinking she might want to pack up some of her more precious items herself. But she hadn’t moved a single item from its place. She’d been extra tired for a few days, though, and had said her stomach felt a little off sometimes. I was worried that she was downplaying something more serious. Why else wouldn’t she have packed anything?
Since she was still in the bathroom, I stalked down the hall, determined to make her tell me what was really going on.
Before I could grab the handle, the door swung open, and Marleigh stormed out, slamming right into my chest.
“Whoa, baby,” I grunted as I grabbed her wrists to help steady her. “Be careful. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She grumbled something that sounded a lot like, “too late,” but my attention had been snagged by something she had in her hand. “Shouldn’t you be packing?” she snapped, waving her hand—the one with the little white stick in it—in the direction of our bedroom.
“Marleigh,” I croaked because my heart had jumped into my throat. “Baby, is that what I think it is?”
