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I lean my forehead against the cool glass and try to organize my feelings into some semblance of order.
When did it happen? Three weeks ago? Four? My usual meticulousness about keeping a strict routine has been disrupted by Austin’s family issues, the sale and now, my new job. It’s no wonder I’ve lost track.
However, when I think about it, my heart starts to race.
What if?
The mere thought sends a cascade of emotions through me. The possibility is not entirely unwelcome. Of course, given the current state of things, the timing couldn’t be more complicated.
Taking a deep breath, I decide that speculating won’t get me anywhere. Compelled to take action, I push myself away from the window and I climb the stairs up to my old room. Every step seems to echo my frantic heartbeat.
I open the door to the ensuite bathroom and look in the mirror. Memories flood back. This was the identical room where, as a teenager, I would spend hours getting ready for dates or talking on the phone with friends. Glancing back at the shower, I’m nearly overcome with emotion.
Ironically, my reaction relates to a memory I can never push out of my mind. It’s one that’s stuck with me like a 3D movie. I’ll never forget that fateful day when I slipped in the shower and hit my head on the porcelain tub. I don’t know how long I was out, all I remember is, when I came to, I’ve never had a headache so painful.
And yet, I took five Tylenol and didn’t tell a soul.
Hours later, at the pageant, I had a grand mal seizure. A couple of days later, I was diagnosed with epilepsy.
Recently, I confessed my recollection of what happened to my neurologist. I learned at this point, twelve years later, we’ll never know for certain if my fall triggered my condition.
I know, though.
Oh well, it’s time to get on with it.
Opening the paper shopping bag, I take out the pregnancy test I bought on the way over here last night. I read the instructions several times. Try to focus, despite my racing thoughts. Then, I follow each step meticulously, waiting for the stipulated time to pass.
Three minutes seem like an eternity.
I can’t help but think about Austin. If the test is positive, how will he react? I don’t want him to commit to me because of…
I want him to…
Wincing, I grip the counter when my heart seizes with uncertainty. He says he loves me, but how he reacted yesterday evening was—telling.
I remind myself not to get ahead of things. I’ll deal with whatever comes next, but now it’s crucial for me to know.
The timer on my phone goes off, breaking through my haze of thoughts.
Hesitating for a moment longer, I gather my courage.
And look down at the test.
Chapter thirty-seven
Austin
Two Days Later
I’ve never had a more brutal weekend in my life.
The heaviness in my chest is unbearable, and it feels like an anchor is pulling me under.
Every glance at my phone is a disappointment. Every second I don’t hear from her is agony.
I’ve tried to get in touch with her for days, to no avail.
Nothing. She’s giving me nothing.
