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The cashier is giving me an odd look as she rings it up.
“Are you ok, ma’am?” she asks, sounding concerned.
“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” As I reach out and take the bag from her, I realize my hands are trembling. Shit, at this point my whole body is probably trembling, but I can’t control it. The horrible possibility is ringing in my head, but I’m fervently denying it.
I’m not pregnant. There’s no way I can be pregnant.
And there’s no way I can wait till I get home to find out.
“Do you have a bathroom?” I ask, and the cashier nods, pointing me toward a door. The next few minutes are a torturous blur. I remember getting into the empty stall and shutting it before shakily adjusting myself over the toilet to awkwardly pee on the stick. I wait for another few agonizing minutes, resisting the urge to bite my fingers as I do.
I can’t be pregnant. I tell myself. It’s probably just the stress. It’s stupid for me to get pregnant that easily.
But then, in about five minutes, the two lines appear on the stick that doom me as an idiot.
Chapter Sixteen
Oliver
She’slate.
I resist the urge to start pacing the cottage like a caged animal even though it’s only been a few minutes. Not even up to ten. Still, the anxiety is eating at me.
She should be home by now.
Fuck, I knew I should have started picking her up from work but I couldn’t manage it with my schedule. And I comforted myself with knowing that I had every single detail of her schedule down pat. Jonah was also supposed to arrange a ride for her every day after work, but the bastard probably forgot.
At the ten-minute late mark, he’s the first person I call.
“What the fuck?” I say. “Isn’t she supposed to be done by now?”
He sighs, a heavy sound. “You know that I didn’t start this restaurant just to look out for your woman all day. I mean, I have multiple businesses to run.”
“She’s not my woman,” I protest and I know once more it’s going to fall on deaf ears. "But is she still there?”
“No,” he says. “I didn't go into the restaurant but they closed early today and her shift should have ended hours ago. And before you freak out, I asked April to give her a ride."
That’s when my anxiety skyrockets. I'm not sure who this April is but I don't trust anyone when it comes to Delilah. “Then we’re the fuck is she?”
“I dunno,” he says. “Maybe she went out for drinks with a friend or something.”
“She has no friends,” I say, and all the horrible possibilities immediately start pouring into my head. What if she’s somewhere hurt? Or worse. What if that bastard got to her?
“I can hear your paranoia over the phone,” Jonah says. “But I can guarantee you that nothing is wrong."
“I told you she has a stalker.”
“Yes. Everyone has been keeping their eye out at the restaurant for it and that’s why I told April to give her a ride. They probably stopped to have dinner somewhere. Look, I’ll call April right now and make sure—”
I hang up the phone because there’s no fucking way that he can guarantee that she’s okay if he hasn't even seen her today. Fuck, I need to find her before I lose my mind. I’m about to head out when the notification of my phone chimes with a voicemail. From Delilah.
It wasn’t there before, which means she must have called while I was still on the phone with Jonah.
I play the voicemail, trying relax as I listen.
“Hey.” She sounds tentative, the way she sounds every time she calls me. Like she doesn’t want to bother me when that’s the last thing on my mind. “Um, I'm just calling so that you don’t worry too much about me. I'm fine. I'm just… I met Rena at the pharmacy and I think I’m going to go to dinner with her. You know, catch up and stuff.”
Rena? As in the roommate that fucking kicked her out of the house, leaving her homeless? What could she possibly have to talk to that psycho about?
