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Congratulations? I glance at the words typed on the paper, my eyes widening at what I’m seeing, and I shake my head. This cannot be happening right now. There’s no way this is real. “Are you sure these are the correct results?” Maybe they got me mixed up with someone else. It’s a common mistake, right?
She nods. “Absolutely positive, ma’am. I’m going to refer you to an obstetrician. Give them a call as soon as possible so you can get an ultrasound. It’s best that you see how the baby is doing sooner than later.”
Baby.
I’m pregnant.
With Emmett’s baby.
This is what I get for going against everything my brother ever asked of me. I never should’ve let Emmett put his sinful hands over my body, or chose not to worry about him wearing a damn condom. How could I have been this damn stupid? We were so lost in the moment that he never put one on, and now this is the consequence.
And Dominic? Jesus, how am I going to tell him I’m pregnant?
As far as he knows, I had a one-night stand with someone random from the club I went to last month. How am I going to keep convincing him of that, when the baby’s father is so closely involved in its life?
“Ma’am, are you okay?” the nurse asks, pulling me from my worries.
I give her the best smile I can manage and nod. “Uh, yeah. Yes. Thank you.”
She nods. “Just make sure you get in touch with the doctor, you’re free to go now.”
This is all a misunderstanding.
I’m going to get tests myself and take them at home, then I’ll prove the doctor’s office wrong, and everything will be okay. The sickness could be easily explained, it doesn’t have to mean I’m carrying a child – Emmett’s child.
After scouring through the different pregnancy tests, I decide that purchasing one of each is the best way to go and I add a couple of bottles of water to my transaction. After emptying each bottle, I finally start toward Dominic’s and hurry inside, not sparing him a glance as I rush through the door.
Emmett hasn’t been over here since the day he brought me over soup, and now I’m going to have to see him a lot more than once every few weeks. What will he think about me being pregnant? My stomach rolls with anxiety, but I push it aside as I situate myself on the toilet. I pee into a cup, making sure there’s enough in it for all the tests I’m about to use, then take a deep breath and wash my hands.
Everything will be okay.
I’ll turn these tests over, and the doctor will be proven wrong. Maybe if I convince myself enough, it will actually end up that way, but I’ve never been so lucky. The only sound in the room is the beating of my heart, only getting worse with each test I flip over.
Two lines.
***
I wake up the next morning more than ready to get my day over with while also wondering if I’ll end up running into Emmett. How do I tell him he’s having a child?
He seemed content with my sporadic hours, considering I’ve had to call off more often than not because of how sick I am. The only reason I came in today was so I didn’t end up losing my job, and I’m hoping Emmett decides that today will be one of the days he doesn’t show his face on the floor.
It doesn’t happen often, but enough that the nerves are increasing throughout my body. He deserves to know that I’m pregnant with his child, and I don’t know how he’ll react. I need another day to figure out how to tell him. Would it be best to do it in a group setting, maybe ask him to have lunch with me one day, or would privacy be the best route?
God, I don’t know.
Just the other day, I thought I was going to get prescribed something to help me, and instead found out my life is changing drastically for the next eighteen years at least. Over a month ago, I was set to marry one man, and now I’m having a baby with another.
The bartender eyes me as I walk onto the floor, her gaze penetrating through me as if seeing the little bean cooking in my stomach, and I quickly clock in before making my rounds on the floor. I’m struggling to contain myself as I walk around the room, the smoking area making me gag, and I fan myself when I reach the bar.
My stomach rolls every few minutes, but luckily, I haven’t had to run into a bathroom and empty the contents inside of it. That could also be because I haven’t eaten anything all day, just so I could get through a shift.
“Hey, are you okay?” Hannah asks, her body leaning over the counter with a worried frown.
I nod. “Great, I just haven’t been feeling too hot lately.” And apparently, I won’t for another ten weeks or something like that, if the information in the pregnancy articles I’ve read are true. That’s what I spent most of my time doing yesterday after my appointment, scouring through every article I could find to figure out how far along I am.
I’m roughly about four to five weeks into the pregnancy.
The phone rings on the wall, and Hannah walks over to it, nodding as she talks to whoever is on the other line, then she gets off and looks right at me. Great, this can’t be good. “The boss wants to see you in his office.”
