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"I'm fine." I offer him a reassuring smile. My stomach is still a little queasy, but mostly, I'm worried about him. He works so hard to keep everyone else safe, but who works to keep him safe? "I just wanted to tell you that I love you."
He smiles at me. This time, it reaches his eyes, lighting them up. He prowls toward me before he leans down over me. I think he's going to kiss me again. Instead, he runs his fingertips down my cheek and then across my bottom lip.
"You're so fucking perfect," he mutters with a shake of his head, like he just can't quite believe that I'm his. And then he drops a kiss on my forehead and leaves for work.
"Mila?" Missy calls my name from outside of the bathroom stall as I hunch over the toilet, dry-heaving.
I don't know what's wrong with me, but as soon as I smelled her burger, a wave of nausea hit me so hard I had to take off running for the bathroom.
The stall door creaks open, and then she steps up behind me. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," I gasp when the dry heaves stop, and I catch my breath. I lean weakly against the side of the stall, wiping my eyes. I turn toward her and offer her a reassuring smile. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I felt fine this morning, but then I smelled your burger, and my stomach started roiling."
"Are you pregnant?" she asks bluntly, her eyes narrowed on me.
"No, I…"
My heart stops beating for a moment before slamming against my ribcage with a powerful jolt. Anxiety shoots through me, shaking me all the way to my core. I'm late.
Oh my god.
My cycle has never been particularly regular, but my period should have come by now. I've been so wrapped up with other things that I didn't even think about the fact that I haven't started yet. I haven't had a period since Roman arrived in Santa Cruz.
"I'm on birth control," I mumble, though I'm not sure if I'm telling her or reminding myself.
"It's not foolproof," she says quietly, sympathy in her eyes. "Have you been on antibiotics, missed days, or anything?"
"I?" Another wave of nausea hits me, and I have to lean over the toilet again. By the time I'm finished dry heaving this time, my heart is in my throat, and tears burn behind my eyelids.
I was on antibiotics in Santa Cruz, and Roman and I have never used protection.
Missy walks away for a minute and then returns a couple of seconds later with wet paper towels. She presses them to my neck as I kneel in the stall, fighting the urge to cry.
"What am I going to do?" I whisper, a little terrified. I've always wanted kids, but it was always in the future when I thought about having them. Not right out of college. I don't even know if Roman wants more kids or how he'd feel about me being pregnant if I am. What if he doesn't want kids?
Oh my God. What am I going to do if he doesn't want kids with me?
"You need to take a test," Missy says.
We stay there for a minute, her awkwardly patting me on the back before I take a deep breath and push myself up to my feet. She's right. I need to take a test before I start flipping out. I could be worrying over nothing.
Please, I pray silently. Please let me be worrying over nothing.
"Go home," Missy says after I rinse my mouth out in the sink. "Go take a test. I'll cover for you here."
"I can't leave work early on my second day," I protest weakly.
"Yes, you can." She waves a hand dismissively. "You already finished just about everything you needed to do today, and Kelli is out at meetings. If she asks, I'll tell her that I sent you home sick." She shoots me another smile. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine."
I'm not sure if I believe her, but I nod and let her lead me out of the bathroom. She shoves my purse and keys into my hands and then shoos me out of the office. My legs feel weak as I make my way to the elevators. When the doors finally open, the elevator is almost full. I squeeze myself in between two older men in suits and stare straight ahead, my mind spinning.
When I get to the parking garage, it's still spinning. My hands shake around the steering wheel as I drive through Los Angeles, headed toward the nearest drug store. With afternoon traffic, it takes me almost an hour to get to one. It takes me another fifteen minutes to convince myself to go inside and buy a test.
When I make it home at one-thirty, Roman still hasn't gotten back. It doesn't look like he's been home at all since he left last night. He called me before I left for work to check on me and tell me that he loves me, and he texted to check on me again a few hours ago, but I haven't heard from him since. I have no idea if I should call him now, or if I should wait until after I test to tell him what's going on.
Will he even want to be here when I pee on the stick?
I remember what he said when we were in Santa Cruz about Tahani's mom keeping her pregnancy from him and the look in his eye when he said it, and I know he'd want to be here. Besides, I want him here. Even if he doesn't want more kids, I know him well enough to know that he won't walk out and leave me to deal with this on my own.
