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CHAPTER 1
Lily
My heart thrums in my ears. This has to work. It just has to. I offer what I hope looks like a smile. “It’ll go through. Give it another swipe.”
The store clerk looks at me with disinterest. “Sure.”
“Thanks.” I tap my fingernails on the countertop, praying that my debit card will make this possibly life-altering ten-dollar-and-some-change purchase.
He runs the card again, looking unsurprised when it’s once again declined.
“It’s okay,” I say, grabbing the item off the belt. “I’ll put it away.”
“Wait.” A deep voice from behind stops me. “What is it? Ten bucks? I’ll pay.”
I turn around, searching for the voice. Behind me stands a gorgeous man looming over six feet tall, impeccably dressed, with a jawline that could cut glass. His piercing blue eyes stare down at me.
“Um. That’s nice but I don’t think?—”
“Please,” he says, reaching for the item in my hand. “Allow me.”
Shame and humiliation bubble up inside me. Do I give it to him? Those blue eyes go cloudy at my resistance. This is a man who isn’t used to being told no.
It takes a full ten seconds for me to hand him the white cardboard box.
“I see.” That’s all he says as he hands the box to the cashier for purchase.
This handsome stranger is buying me my first pregnancy test.
As the cashier hands over the white cardboard box, I feel a mix of gratitude and embarrassment wash over me. This man, this stranger, is buying me a pregnancy test without even knowing my name.
I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze as he pays for it, the weight of the situation settling heavily on my shoulders. What will this test reveal? Is he judging me for needing it?
Once the transaction is complete, the man turns to face me again, his intense blue eyes searching mine. “I hope everything turns out okay for you,” he says quietly, his voice filled with an unexpected tenderness.
I manage a weak smile, feeling a lump form in my throat. “Thank you,” I whisper, unable to muster any more words.
He nods once, a silent understanding passing between us, before turning to leave the store. I watch him go, his confident stride carrying him away from me and the uncertainty that awaits me at home.
I take a deep breath, pocket the pregnancy test, and return to my apartment. The short walk feels like an eternity, each step heavy with the weight of the unknown. I can feel the man’s eyes on me, his act of kindness lingering in my mind.
As I walk into the house, the silence wraps around me like a suffocating blanket. The white cardboard box on my kitchen counter seems to taunt me, daring me to uncover its secrets. With trembling hands, I tear it open and pull out the test, my heart racing.
Minutes tick by agonizingly slowly as I wait for the results to appear. The seconds feel like hours as I stare at the test, willing it to give me some sign, some answer to the question that looms over me.
And then, as if in a whisper, only one pink line materializes before my eyes. My breath catches in my throat as a rush of conflicting emotions washes over me—relief and a glimmer of disappointment.
I know it’s the wrong time. Wrong man. Wrong life. But I always wanted to be a mom one day.
I sink to the floor, the weight of the moment crashing down on me. Relief floods through my veins but is quickly replaced by a sense of loss. The tiny hint of excitement that came with the possible pregnancy now is an empty void.
I’m all alone.
My small town, too young parents couldn’t hide the fact they didn’t want me in the first place. Once I went to college, they were out of the picture. Took what little savings they had and went off to explore Scotland, Ireland, and Wales.
Together.
Driving in the final knife that made me cut them off for my own mental health.
