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The pain is real, raw, and still fresh.
I shake my head. I want to do this alone. If it’s one line, I don’t even have to tell him. Problem solved.
A heavy sigh releases from my chest as I bend back the cardboard top of the box.
“I’m ready. I can do this?—”
A soft knock on the door startles me, making my shaking hands drop the box. It falls to the floor with a soft sound, the plastic-wrapped test falling out of the top of the box.
His deep voice is filled with worry as he speaks. “You alright in there? You were so pale on the way home. Are you feeling okay?”
How long have I been in here, contemplating? I reach down, scooping up the test and the box. “Yeah! I’m fine. Just a little—woozy.”
“Can I come in?”
“No! I’ll be right out?—”
The door opens, his handsome face popping into the room.
I try to hide the box in my hands, but it’s no use. The blue letters stand out over the white cardboard like a highway billboard shouting, Early Detection Pregnancy Test.
Damn—should have locked the door.
His eyes widen to saucers as he stares down at the box. “Is that for you?”
“For us,” I say, holding the box up to him.
“Us?”
“This.” I shake the little box, the test rattling against the cardboard sides. “Is why I was so pale. So distant. I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to tell you that I’d missed my period again. Instead, I did an internal, I don’t know—” I try to put words to what I was going through. “Some kind of internal freak out. And I pulled away. I’m sorry for that.”
He’s speechless, still staring down at the box.
Is this the end? The end of us?
I start rambling. “It might change things. Good or bad, it might change us. I mean it could be like last time, a false alarm. Or it could be…”
I can’t wrap my mind around the words, much less say them.
“Take it.” His voice is raspy, his hair standing on end where he’s raked his hand through it. His blue eyes lock on mine. “Take it.”
“Fine. But I can’t pee in front of people. Can you go?”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Taking the box from me, he flips the lid open. Puts the box on the countertop. Takes the little stick, tears a bit of the white wrapper, and pulls the test out. He stands there, staring down at it for a moment. Then hands it to me.
He flips the faucet on, turning his back to me, arms crossed over his chest as he waits.
I stare at the back of his head, my body going through the motions as I pull down my sweats and panties to sit on the cold toilet seat. Eventually, the running water trick works and I pee on the stick.
Is he angry? Or in shock? I can’t tell.
I put the test on top of the box on the counter. Clean up, wash my hands.
He turns to me. “What now?”
“We wait. Two pink lines means pregnant. One means not pregnant.”
He leans past me, brushing against me as he looks down at the test. “Oh, my god.”
