Page 8 of Accidentally in Love

“PMS?” she asked.

I stared back at her in silence.

“Avs, when did you last get your period?”

“Not since before the Arts Fest,” I admitted in a low whisper.

Her eyes turned to saucers. “That was two months ago!”

I cringed. “Maybe it’s stress?”

Gemma looked horrified.

When Gemma was in college, she had a pregnancy scare, and I drove all the way up to State College to be with her. She didn’t want kids, and an unplanned pregnancy hadn’t been in the cards. She ended up not being pregnant and got her period the next day, but to this day, she was always stressed if it was late. If Gemma had been in my shoes, she wouldn’t have ignored the signs. She would have taken a pregnancy test the day her period was late.

She stood up and put on her coat.

I furrowed my brow at her. “Where are you going?”

She glared at me. “Going to the pharmacy to get a pregnancy test.”

Before I could argue, she ran down the steps and out of my apartment. I cringed at my door slamming shut behind her.

Gemma was gone for maybe fifteen minutes before she clomped back up the steps and waved a bag of pregnancy tests in my face.

“Come on, let’s take these,” she said and led me into my bathroom.

Ten minutes later, we stared down at the third and final pregnancy test and waited for the results. The first two tests were positive, so I didn’t have a good feeling about this one. I knew I was pregnant before those pink lines showed up on the first test, but I didn’t want to accept it. I ignored what my body told me and tried to will the pregnancy away. I had even been avoiding Nolan because if I had seen him, I would have burst into tears and told him everything.

My timer chimed, and I handed the testing stick to my sister. “Please look. I can’t.”

She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Oh, Avs,” she cooed and squeezed my hand in comfort.

“I’m pregnant, aren’t I?” I sobbed.

She reached out and grabbed my hand. “What do you want to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Avery, do you want to keep the baby? Or do you want to, you know…”

“Get an abortion?” I snarled at her. I pulled my hand out of her grasp and put it protectively over my stomach.

I had no problem with women who wanted to choose that route, but I didn’t think I could do that. I had always wanted to be a mother, just not like this.

Gemma blew out a breath. “Okay. Does the father know?”

I shook my head.

“Do you… know who the father is?”

My mouth hung open at her question.

“What the fuck?” I snapped.

She held up her hands in surrender. “You go on a lot of dates. I’m not slut-shaming you, sis. But…”

“There’s only been one guy in the last two years,” I admitted but couldn’t look at her.