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Her face pales and an apologetic smile crosses her face. “I’m so sorry. I just assumed you knew.”
“Knew what?” I croak.
“You’re pregnant.”
“What?” I practically yell in her face.
“When you came in, you told the admitting nurse that there was a possibility you could be pregnant.”
“I told her I wasn’t pregnant, but when she asked if it was possible I said yes because...well, I’m...err,” I stutter, feeling weird talking about this with a complete stranger. “Active.” I hope she catches what I mean.
“Whenever a woman could possibly be pregnant, it’s general practice to perform a pregnancy test before any kind of radiation treatment or exam is done.”
“I thought you took a urine sample to test for drugs.” I shake my head, convinced there’s some kind of mix up. There’s no way I’m pregnant. I haven’t had any symptoms and I’m not late for my period, which is due to come in a couple of days. Not to mention I’m on birth control.
“We did, and we also performed a pregnancy test.”
“Run it again,” I cut her off before she can continue.
“I’m sorry?” She steps back like she’s confused.
“Run the test again!” I demand. “There has to be some sort of mix up.”
“I did the test myself. I can assure you, there was no mix up.”
My head swirls and my heart feels like it’s seconds away from pounding straight out of my chest.
I’m pregnant?
How am I pregnant?
And then his face flashes through my mind and I feel like the world falls out from underneath me.
Harris...
Oh god, how could I have been so stupid?
But then an even scarier thought occurs to me. What if it’s not Harris’ baby?
I slept with Bruce a few different times just a couple short weeks before Harris and I slept together. And while we used a condom, if today proves anything it’s that no form of birth control is one hundred percent.
“Do you know how far along I am?” I croak, the weight of the situation seeming to hit me all at once as a hard-lump forms in the back of my throat.
“It’s hard to say. The test doesn’t show how far along you are, only if your pregnant or not pregnant.” Of course this is information I already know so I’m not entirely sure why I even asked. “But I’d say you’re at least three weeks or more given that you tested positive. Any earlier than that and the hormone likely wouldn’t have shown up in your urine.”
Three weeks or more... I try to work out the math in my head. Harris and I slept together for the first time eight days after our bet started. Meaning it hasn’t even been three full weeks since we first slept together. My stomach twists tighter.
“Now, let’s get you situated here so we can see what’s going on with this ankle of yours.” She tries to breeze by the extremely tense situation by reminding me why I’m here to begin with.
Nodding, I move through the motions, but in truth, I’m completely numb.
I can’t process the information. I can’t make it make any sense. If the nurse is right, and I’m at least three weeks or more, then that means Bruce is the father.
I feel like I’m going to be sick...
It could still be Harris’...I let myself entertain the possibility. It’s possible, isn’t it? I mean, it has been almost three weeks. Maybe the hormone is showing up a little earlier than normal but that doesn’t mean it’s not possible.
I’m not sure if the thought makes me feel better or worse. I feel like I’m on the verge of having a full-blown panic attack. My chest tightens and suddenly it feels almost impossible to pull in a full breath.
