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Oh my gosh.
I threw up on Catherine’s designer shoes.
The whole room stared at me in disbelief.
Before I could even consider an apology, another wave of nausea hit me, forcing me to dash to the restroom and fall into a stall. Before I knew it, I was throwing up violently. I felt two hands wrap around my dangling hair and pull it out of the way of the toilet as I purged the contents of my stomach.
When I recovered from vomiting, I sat back on my heels.
“Are you okay?” Damian asked.
I went to reply but began throwing up again.
“Food poisoning, maybe?” he wondered, but my thoughts were veered in a different direction as I tried to do the math in my head. When was the last time I was on my period? It couldn’t have been that long ago, could it? Then again, it was always irregular.
My mind was racing as I shook my head. “Will you take me somewhere?” I asked.
We stoodin the tampon aisle of the drugstore dressed to the nines in our fancy outfits, but we weren’t there to get tampons, unfortunately.
I stared at the different pregnancy tests in front of me. A wave of sickness hit me, but I wasn’t certain if it was from being ill earlier or the idea that I might be pregnant.
“I don’t know which one to get,” I whispered to Damian.
“Then get them all,” he said, swiping a ton of them and tossing them into the basket he was carrying for me.
Though I was shaken up from the idea of being pregnant, the idea of carrying Damian’s child didn’t freak me out as much as it should’ve. I should’ve been panicking more, but Damian’s calm demeanor somehow eased my soul a little. We’d been safe every time we’d slept together, but still, there was always the chance we somehow slipped up and had an accident.
We walked up to the cashier, a young teenager. She looked at the basket of tests as she blew bubbles with her chewing gum, and she shook her head. “Congratulations,” she said, swiping the boxes. “Or my condolences if it’s negative,” she said. “Or my condolences if it’s positive, too. I don’t know. Whatever.”
We didn’t reply to her commentary. Damian simply paid for the tests, and we went on our way. He didn’t say much on the ride home. Correction: he didn’t say anything. He simply drove, then opened the door for me when we arrived home, and he walked inside with me beside him.
“Should I take one now?” I asked.
“Do you want to?”
“I don’t know. I guess. Maybe? Christ. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”
“You’ll be fine. Take two now, and then you can take some later if you need to.” He held two of the random tests out toward me, and I took a deep breath as I grabbed them. When I turned to head to the bathroom, he placed a hand against my forearm. “Stella.”
“Yes?”
“Whatever happens, whatever the outcome, I’m all in.”
I parted my lips to reply, but no words came out. Somehow, his words were more than enough to give me the courage I was searching for. I unwrapped two tests, peed on the sticks, set them against the counter, then called Damian into the bathroom.
I set a timer. We sat on the bathroom floor with both of our legs bent up. His arm was looped with mine. For ten minutes, we sat still and didn’t speak a word. Every now and then, his hand would rub gently against my forearm, giving me bursts of comfort.
The timer dinged. Damian looked at me.
“Can you check? I’m too nervous,” I muttered, feeling sick to my stomach.
He stood, looked down at the two tests, and held them up in the air. His mouth parted, and he spoke, “Baby.”
“Baby?” I scrambled to my feet. I took the tests from his hand and felt as if my heart was seconds away from flying out of my chest. “Baby.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Damian, wondering what his thoughts were, wondering if he was okay, wondering if this was all right. “Happy or scared?” I softly asked.
