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I decide on a simple broth with bread made from scratch.
But when I get to the kitchen, I notice the pantry has no vegetables left. I decide to order some through a local food and essentials delivery app that Artie mentioned in passing.
As I browse through the delivery service app, searching for ingredients to make lunch, my eyes wander over the various categories. My finger hovers over the “Personal Care” section, and that’s when I see it—tampons. A wave of realization washes over me, and I suddenly remember something important. I’ve missed my period.
Could it be just a simple delay, a hiccup in my cycle? Or is it something more? The mere thought of the latter sends a jolt of panic through me. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the rising anxiety.
I’ve always been diligent about tracking my menstrual cycle, relying on its predictability. But in this secluded cabin with Ed, Ollie, and Artie, the days have blurred together and I’ve lost track of time.
How long has it been since my last period? Is it just a minor delay, or could there be a deeper reason? I need to find out. I need to confront the possibility that my body is trying to convey a message.
Could it be a result of stress, the change in environment, or something else entirely? I’m on birth control, and I’ve been on the same pills since I was fifteen and was prescribed them by my doctor. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
The reality of the situation settles in, and I understand that it’s time to face the truth. I may be facing a potentially life-altering moment.
The weight of the realization presses down on me, and I feel a mix of apprehension and anticipation. I know I need to take a pregnancy test to confirm my suspicions, but the uncertainty gnaws at me. What if the result confirms my fears?
Taking a deep breath, I decide to focus on the present moment. I remind myself that worrying won’t change the outcome. I need to gather the courage to face whatever lies ahead and make informed decisions based on the truth.
With a determined resolve, I put the thought of lunch on hold and search the delivery app for a nearby pharmacy. I order a pregnancy test, and then I add several more to the cart. I want to be sure. And then I wait.
Meanwhile, I open my period tracking app and recalculate my dates. I’m eight days late. It normally wouldn’t be a cause for worry, except I’m always on time. It’s a matter of pride for me.
I find myself sitting on the edge of the couch, anxiously waiting for the delivery of the pregnancy tests. Time seems to crawl by slowly, and each passing minute feels like an eternity. My mind is consumed with a whirlwind of thoughts, doubts, and hopes.
I glance at the clock on the wall, realizing that the brothers will be returning home soon. I feel a sense of urgency to know the truth before they arrive. I can’t help worrying as fears crawl into me.
What will they think when they find out? They know I’m on birth control. I explicitly told them that when I started sleeping with them. Ed was very clear about it, and I understand his feelings.
The sound of a car pulling up outside startles me, causing my heart to skip a beat. I rush to the window, hoping it’s not the brothers. To my relief, it isn’t. The delivery person drops the products into the mailbox before driving away.
I exhale a sigh of frustration, realizing that the tests are now just a few steps away, but it feels like an eternity.
I pace back and forth in the living room, my thoughts consumed by what the test results might reveal.
I try to find solace in the fact that I’m not alone. Ed, Ollie, and Artie have been pillars of support throughout our time together. They’ve shown me love, understanding, and acceptance.
It’ll be a shock, but I’m sure they’ll be okay with it. I took my pills on time. I did everything right. Despite doing all of that, sometimes things just don’t work out.
Taking a deep breath, I make my way to the bathroom, clutching the tests tightly in my hand. The small, inconspicuous packaging feels heavy in my palms.
The moment of truth is upon me, and as I unwrap the package, my heart starts to race. I find my breath catching at the mere thought of what I might discover.
Carefully following the instructions, I unwrap the tests and place them on the bathroom counter. My hands feel unsteady as I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the moment of truth.
With trembling fingers, I take the first test and perform the necessary steps. I watch as the tiny indicator window begins to show signs of activity. Time stretches out before me, each passing second feeling like an eternity.
The test says it will take twelve minutes to get the result, and it feels like an hour has passed. As I continue to wait, I find myself grappling with both fear and hope. Fear of the unknown, fear of the potential consequences, and fear of how our relationship might be tested. But beneath that fear, there’s a glimmer of hope, a flicker of possibility that things might turn out in a way that brings us closer together.
I stare at the first test, my eyes fixed on the faint lines that have appeared. Uncertainty fills my heart as I try to interpret the result. Is it a positive? Or is it just my hopeful imagination playing tricks on me?
Determined to have a clearer answer, I gather my resolve and reach for a few more tests. Carefully, I follow the same process as before, ensuring accuracy and precision. Each test feels like a small lifeline.
Finally, the results begin to show. Line by line, they appear, each one holding its own message. I study them carefully, my breath caught in my throat. The lines, although faint, start to paint a picture, revealing a truth I can no longer deny.
With each positive result, a surge of emotions washes over me—joy, fear, excitement, and a touch of disbelief. It becomes undeniable. I am carrying life within me.
Tears well up in my eyes as the weight of the moment settles in. With the confirmation of multiple positive tests, I know it’s no longer a fleeting possibility or a figment of my imagination. It’s real.
