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My eyes widened, my heart pounding against my ribcage. I’d graduated from college only eight months ago and didn’t have any savings. This job was my entire life, and I’d be out on the streets if I lost it.
I had put in so much work to be able to get this job. I couldn’t lose it. I would die if I did. “I’ll do better from now on, Ms. Klein.”
“You don’t have a choice but to do better. You may go now.”
I muttered a weak “Thank you.” Then I turned around and started for the door. When I closed the door behind me, I drew in a sharp breath, but instead of relief, a raw, acidic sensation clawed at the back of my throat. My stomach twisted and writhed, and the world began to sway around me.
I placed my hand on the wall, taking one step at a time until I reached the end of the hallway.
“Giselle.” Emma’s heels clinked on the tiled floor as she ran toward me. “Giselle, are you okay?”
I inhaled deeply, trying to fight back the wave of nausea and dizziness. “I don’t feel good.”
“Sure, you don’t.” Emma led me to a chair and then grabbed a bottle of water for me. “How long has this been going on?” she asked as she uncapped the bottle of water and handed it to me.
I took a sip, but it did nothing to push down the bile creeping up my mouth. “Two weeks.”
She sat beside me and gave me a suspicious look. “Is it what I’m thinking?”
“No way. It’s over a month since I broke up with Aaron and—” My eyes widened, and my pulse skyrocketed. The last time Aaron and I had any form of intimacy was a month before our breakup, but I’d had sex with the handsome man at the club, and we hadn’t used any protection.
I slapped my forehead.Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Are you pregnant?” Emma’s voice was careful. She got her answer when I looked at her. “Don’t tell me it’s the stranger at the club.”
I bit my lips as tears prickled my eyes. “I think it is.”
“Shit.” We both sat silently for a moment before she spoke again. “We can’t be too sure. You need to see a doctor or something. When was the last time you had your period?”
“I can’t recall. Six weeks ago maybe.”
“This isn’t enough.” Emma stood up. “Stand up. We have to know for certain if you’re pregnant or if it’s something else.”
I followed her to the clinic with my head down like a pregnant teenager. Not that I was any better than a pregnant teenager. I was twenty-two and barely making enough to keep myself alive. How was I supposed to look after a baby if I’m actually pregnant?
After the nurses took a blood sample, we stayed in the waiting room, my heart throbbing against my ribcage as we waited for the result.
A nurse called me into the doctor’s office moments later, and I was literally trembling as I sat across the doctor’s desk. “Hello, Ms. Cruz,” he said with a smile.
I forced myself to return his smile. If only he knew how close I was to having a heart attack from the anxiety churning in my stomach. “Am I pregnant?” I asked, unable to bear the suspense any longer.
His smile widened. “Congratulations, Ms. Cruz. You’re five weeks pregnant.”
The doctor’s words hung heavy in the air, and time seemed to stand still. I let out a mirthless laugh. “What do you mean pregnant?”
My heart rate quickened, and tears pricked my eyes. “I mean, I can’t be pregnant. I don’t even know his name, who he is, or anything about him. I’m a fresh college graduate struggling to make ends meet. I can’t be pregnant.”
The doctor threaded his fingers and leaned back in his seat.
“I can’t have this baby. I mean, I want this baby, but I can’t afford to have him. Help me.”
“There are several options you can consider. You can choose to have this baby and give her up for adoption.” He paused.
“Or?”
“You can opt for abortion. You’re only five weeks pregnant. We can schedule a medical abortion.”
My mind raced, my chest crashing with different emotions—fear, panic, uncertainty. Nothing made sense. How could I have a baby only to give it away to someone else?
