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She reappears. “This one has a plus sign.” She holds up her right hand. “And this one says pregnant.” She holds up her left hand. She tries to swallow but then looks at me, her face going pale. “I think I’m going to be sick.” She drops both of them as she turns and runs away from me. I put the stick down on the table by the door, following her in the house, where I hear her dry heaving.
“Zara,” I call to her as I walk down the hallway.
“Don’t come in here!” she shouts before she dry heaves again. I obviously don’t listen to her as I walk into the bathroom. She is on her knees in front of the toilet. “I told you not to come in here.” She turns her head to the side to look at me.
“The door was open, so I could literally stand in the hall and still see you.”
“Well then, close the door,” she hisses before she closes her eyes and breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth.
I look around, turning on the faucet before finding a facecloth and wetting it. I wring the water out of it before handing it to her. “Place that on the back of your neck,” I tell her, and she moves her hair to the side and places it on the back of her neck.
“Have you eaten today?” I ask, and she shakes her head.
“I ate this morning, but I felt nauseated after two bites, so I gave up.” She gets up from the floor, flushing the toilet. “Can I have a minute?” she asks, then looks at herself in the mirror. “Good God, I look?—”
“You look just as beautiful, if not more beautiful, than the first time I laid eyes on you and felt the earth shift under my feet,” I tell her, and she comes over and puts her forehead in the middle of my chest.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” She looks up at me.
“How about you take a minute, and I’ll go and get you something to drink?” I suggest to her, and she nods. I bend down, kissing her neck before leaving her alone. I hear the water turn on as I walk down the hall in search of the kitchen.
Finally finding it after walking into the living room and thinking maybe it opens up to the kitchen, but I have to go past the staircase and around it. I spot flowers on the counter and try not to let them get to me. I haven’t spoken to her in six weeks, anything could have happened. Fighting back the need to take the flowers and throw them out the front door into the street, I open her fridge, finding it almost bare, containing just a couple of takeout containers. I then go to the pantry to see if she has any saltine crackers but coming up empty. I walk back out, grabbing a bottle of water at least, and head to find her. “Sweetheart,” I call for her.
“On the couch,” she mumbles as I walk by it and then look into the room. She is sitting with her side to the back of the couch, laying her head down on it.
“I couldn’t find—” I walk around the couch to sit next to her. Her boots are kicked off, and she is under a throw blanket. “Well, anything,” I say, and she laughs. “So I brought you a bottle of water.”
She smiles at me, grabbing the bottle from my hand. “Thank you.” She opens the top and takes a couple of sips.
“I bet this isn’t what you expected when you rang the doorbell.” She tries to make a joke out of it.
“I can say with a hundred percent certainty that I was not expecting this.” I get up to shrug off my jacket and toss it to the other side of the couch before sitting back down and putting her feet in my lap. The need to hold a part of her is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before. “I was expecting maybe you slam the door in my face.”
She gasps. “Why would I do that?”
“Well, for one, I haven’t called or texted you in six weeks,” I start to say.
“I haven’t done that either,” she murmurs softly. “I wanted to but?—”
“But I thought you were living your best life,” I finish what I thought she was going to say.
“I wasn’t,” she admits as she lifts a hand to stop the tear from rolling down her face.
“We should talk.” I finally get the courage to say. “To be fair, we should have talked before you left.”
“On that we agree.” She tries to give me a smile but I see her bottom lip quiver and it breaks me. I move over on the couch until her ass is in my lap and I’m holding her in my arms.
“I missed you, Sweetheart,” I admit to her, “so fucking much.” I tighten my arms around her, breathing in her smell.
“I missed you too.” She puts her palm on my chest.
“Why did you take a pregnancy test?” I ask her.
“I was talking to Sofia,” she tells me why, “and then it dawned on me.” I kiss her head. “What’s one more baby momma?” she jokes and I glare at her. “I’m kidding. I’m in shock.”
“You are not alone in this,” I tell her. “I’m going to be there every step of the way.” My head asks me how this is going to happen when she lives here and I don’t. “We are going to have to figure things out. But there is still time for that.” I don’t know if I’m trying to convince her or me of this. I am about to kiss her lips when my phone rings from my jacket. “That might be Sofia,” I tell her. “She was the only one who knew I was coming here today.” I reach over to grab it, taking her with me. Pulling the phone out of my pocket, I see it is Sofia.
“Let me answer that,” she says, grabbing the phone from my hand and pressing the green button. “You better have a great explanation,” she barks into the phone before putting it on speaker.
