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I smile and wipe the tears with the back of my hand, opening the bag and seeing a sprinkle cupcake in it. I push away the picture of Gabriel that pops into my head every fucking day. Every fucking time I close my fucking eyes, it’s him. It’s always fucking him, and he gives zero fucks about me. It’s fucking Valentine’s Day, and he hasn’t even texted me once. Okay, fine, I haven’t reached out to him, but usually it’s always the man who checks in on the woman, isn’t it?
My phone rings from the living room, and I rush over to grab it, seeing that it’s a FaceTime from Sofia. I slide it open and cringe when I see that the tip of my nose is red, but it’s too late because Sofia’s face fills the screen with a gummy drooling RC next to her. “Can we say happy Valentine’s Day to auntie?” she says with a smile to him, and then she looks at me.
“What happened?” she asks, and I just shake my head.
“Nothing, nothing,” I reply. “Thank you for the lovely present.” I smile, pretending that I’m fine. “How is my Valentine doing?” I ask RC, who moves his hands up and down excitedly.
“You look a little pale.” She observes, and I roll my eyes, pulling my sweater closed in front of me and wincing when my hand rubs against my nipples.
“What’s wrong?”
“My nipples are killing me,” I say in annoyance. “For the past week, the minute I touch them it’s like someone is stabbing me.”
“Good God, you sure you aren’t pregnant?” She laughs at me, and my head spins. “I remember when I was pregnant with RC. If Matty touched my nipples, I would cry.” She stops talking, looking at me. “You aren’t pregnant, right?”
“No.” I sit up. “Of course not,” I say, running up the stairs to the bathroom and taking out my birth control pills. “I’m going to get my period in two days, at least I hope so because I missed last month, but that was only because I had to double up on a couple of them.” I don’t bother telling her that it was because I stayed at Gabriel’s house for three days and had to take them when I got back to her house. “Plus, the month before, I was off because I didn’t take them for like five days before I remembered I left them at the other place.” I’m rambling at this point, and my legs are starting to tremble, knowing I finished my period a full two days before I went dress shopping. And Daniel and I hadn’t had sex since Halloween night. We went a whole month without sex. That should have been a huge red flag.
“Zara,” Sofia says, “are you listening to yourself?”
“I am not pregnant,” I retort. “I have to go.” She shakes her head.
“This is very bad,” she says. “This is very, very bad.”
“Nothing is bad,” I snap at her, putting on my cowboy boots at the door and grabbing my jacket. “Nothing is bad.” I grab my purse and walk out of the house, looking like a hobo. My gray jogging pants are tucked into brown cowboy boots while I wear a red coat.
“Where the hell are you going?” she asks me as RC whines and twists in her arms.
“I’m going to the pharmacy.” I walk around the people who are walking slower than me.
“You have to call me back,” she hisses out. “This is going to be very, very bad.”
“Stop saying that,” I demand when I walk into the pharmacy and go down each aisle until I stand in front of the pregnancy tests. I grab three different ones, walking to the counter and putting them all on top. I look around to make sure I don’t know anyone, but this is the city, no one knows anyone. I literally rush home, not bothering to take my boots off as I run to the kitchen to get myself a white coffee takeout cup I bought on a whim last time I was in the store.
I go straight to the bathroom and sit down with one hand between my legs as I pee in the cup. I place the cup on the counter before I wipe myself and wash my hands. Opening the packages of the pregnancy tests, I look at the instructions and they’re pretty much all the same: place the tip in the stream for seven to ten seconds.
I pull the cap off the first one, placing it in the cup and counting to fifteen for added measure, before placing it down on the box and starting the next one until all three sit on the counter. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God,” I’m chanting as I go along. My heart beats so fast and hard in my chest, it’s making it hard to breathe. I pick up the instructions, reading to see how long you have to wait until you get a response. At the same time, I pick up one of the sticks after reading how long you have to wait, the sound of the doorbell fills the air. My head flies to the hallway as I walk down, looking at the paper to see that if it’s positive, there will be two lines, and if it’s negative, there will be one line. My eyes go from the paper to the test at the same time the bell rings again. “Why is everyone so impatient today?” I huff as I step to the front door.
My hand turns the lock at the same time I see two very bright, very blue lines. My mouth hangs open as I hold the test in one hand as I open the door. Shock fills my body at the result but not as much as the face greeting me. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetheart.”
24
GABRIEL
I stand here with my hands clammy, my heart feeling like it’s beating out of my chest, the sounds of horns and sirens playing somewhere close. The door opens, but it feels like it’s opening an inch at a time, or maybe it’s just the nerves in my body knowing that right behind the door is my girl. The smile fills my face when the door slowly reveals her hair and then her face. She stands there in a jogging suit, wearing the cowboy boots I gave her. Her eyes are red like she was crying, and my heart contracts in my chest, but nothing, and I mean nothing, can wipe the smile off my face from seeing her. Her face, on the other hand, is filled with utter shock. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetheart.” The minute I say the words, she puts her hand holding a stick to her mouth and covers the sob that rips right through her.
In the blink of an eye, my hand goes to my head to take off the cowboy hat she gave me. I step into her entrance and then wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her to me and picking her up. “Sweetheart,” I say softly.
“Are you really here?” she asks me, but instead of answering her, I bend my head to touch my lips to hers. I was planning on giving her a soft kiss, but after not having her for over six weeks, suddenly having her in my arms, the kiss goes from zero to a hundred. We both moan when our tongues meet. She wraps her arms around my neck, the sound of her stick falling on the top of my boot and then to the side as I hear the paper crumble from behind me. But it’s all outside noise, and nothing matters because I’m here, and she’s in my arms. She lets go of the kiss, placing her forehead on mine. “You are really, really here, Cowboy?” she questions softly, and I’ve never seen her more beautiful in my life.
“As real as can be.” I put her back down on her feet. “I know I should have called,” I start to say but then look down beside my foot, seeing the white stick with the purple cap looking up at me. That’s not a wand, that’s a pregnancy test. I look down at it and then look back up at Zara, my body bending to pick it up. “Um,” I say, looking at the two lines down the front. “Sweetheart?”
Her eyes go big. “Surprise,” she utters softly but then puts both hands at the side of her head.
“Is this?” I look at her and then the test, my body in shock. “Are you?”
“Pregnant,” she finishes the question for me. “According to that one”—she points at the test—“I think so.” She bends to pick up the paper that I heard behind me and holds it up. “But I have to check the other two.” She turns around and bolts from the door. My body is cemented to the middle of her entrance as I hear her boots click down somewhere in her house.
I swallow down the lump in my throat, feeling the back of my neck tingle. “Pregnant.” There is an echo in my ears, and I listen to the clicking of her boots coming closer and closer to me.
