Page 74 of The Broken Keys

But I already know. My body knows. The exhaustion, the nausea, and the way everything smells wrong. I’ve been here before, and it ended in loss and heartbreak.

No, Livianna. Don’t think like that.

This time is different. I’m older, my career is stable, and I have all the resources I need to take care of a baby.

Timing. It all comes down to timing.

If I’d gotten my period when I was supposed to, none of this would be happening. If Jax hadn’t left for Malaysia when he did, if I hadn’t run into Callum at Coachella, if the app hadn’t malfunctioned…

But it did. And here we are.

Callum returns to the living room. “Guns says he’ll check in with you later.”

“Figures. He gets concerned just like you.”

Callum sits down again, closer this time. “Guns said you haven’t had an attack for a long time. Am I the one who’s causing all your stress?”

The tenderness in his voice breaks something in me. He has no idea what’s coming. In a few hours, I’ll most likely be sitting across from Jax, telling him he’s going to be a father.

Callum has no idea that the future he’s been fighting so hard for is about to shatter into pieces neither of us can put back together. My heart shrinks at the thought.

“Callum…” I force a smile. “I have so much to do. Let’s talk more about this when we have enough time to actually discuss what’s going on.

“Yeah. That’s a good idea.” He studies my face, searching. “Just promise me you won’t push me away. Promise me if Ikeep my word and show you I’ve changed, you’ll let me stay in your life.”

Jesus.His plea is a brutal gut punch. I’m going to wreck him and there’s no way around it. I’m about to burst into tears at the cruelty of it all.

Instead, I swallow and do the only thing I can. I nod.

“Thanks.” He stands, reluctance in every movement. “I’m giving you some space, but I'm keeping my phone on. You call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

“I will.”

He leans down and kisses my forehead. “I love you, Lily.”

“I don’t deserve your love.”

“Yes, you do.” He dips his chin, sends me a warm gaze, and leaves.

I wait for his car to start, listening to the sound of the tires crunching on gravel as it goes down my driveway. Only when I’m sure he’s gone do I let myself breathe.

I stand on shaky legs and head upstairs. Each step I take is heavier than the last.

I peek inside the en suite. The three boxes are laid out on the counter, their bright packaging mocking me with promises of accuracy and early detection.

But I’m not ready yet. Not quite.

I need to shower first and wash away the sweat and panic from earlier. I need to put on clean clothes and feel human again before I face whatever truth is waiting for me.

The shower is near scalding. I stand under the spray until my skin turns red, and the water runs cold. I dress in loose jeans and a soft cotton shirt, nothing too constricting. My hands tremble as I pull my hair into a messy bun.

The tests sit exactly where I left them. Face down on the white quartz counter.

I’ve been avoiding this moment all day. Avoiding the truth that will change everything. But I’m out of time and out of excuses.

My heart pounds so hard I can feel it pumping the blood through my veins. The plastic is stiff and cold in my grasp.

I flip the first one over.