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“I’ll let you pick the movie.” He winks at me.
We settle on one of theLethal Weaponssince it’s just starting. I recline against the armrest, my legs in his lap as his feet are kicked up on my coffee table. I steal glances at him out of the corner of my eye, his laugh filling the room. My words from earlier to Brooklyn and Milly about this just feeling right come back to me. That’s exactly how this feels right now: natural, like we’ve been doing this for a lifetime already.
“Ready to try some soup?” Ranger asks, massaging the bottom of my foot with long, languid strokes that nearly put me to sleep.
“Sure.” I sit up, bringing a spoonful to my mouth, and this time it doesn’t turn my stomach. I eat about half of it, plus a few more crackers, then finish the soda before reclining again. Before I know it, I’m asleep, and the next time I open my eyes, it’s morning.
“Oh!” I look around my bedroom, realizing Ranger must have put me in bed. I turn over, reaching out, but the other side is still made up. My heart sinks. “He didn’t stay.”
I yawn, reaching for my phone and stretching as I sit up. I’m about to head to the kitchen to make coffee when my stomach rolls again. I dart to the bathroom, doubling over the toilet.
“Ugh,” I groan as I sink to the floor. I think back on Ranger’s question last night. In the moment, I thought for sure it wasn’t possible. I still don’t think it is, but I scoot over to my cabinet, looking around to see if I have a pregnancy test anywhere. About six months ago, Amelia had taken one at my house because she was nervous she was pregnant again. She was anxious about it, not wanting to get Trent’s hopes up, and since we were already hanging out that day, I’d convinced her to take one at my house. It was negative, and she only took one, but I’m almost positive there were two in the box.
I pull out a box I toss odds and ends into: travel-size toiletries and extra cases for my contacts. “There it is.” I pull out the test, opening it and sitting on the toilet. I replace the cap, waiting patiently, my stomach in knots from whatever is going on inside me, but also with a touch of anxiousness.
“There’s no way. It’s not possible,” I say to myself in reassurance, but deep down inside, a tiny little sprout of hope blooms. It wouldn’t be ideal to start our relationship this way. I’d be happy, but I try to recall Ranger’s expression last night when he asked me.
Would he be happy?
Before I can think too far down that rabbit hole, the test flashes an answer:Not Pregnant.
I breathe out a sigh of relief . . . then a wave of sadness hits me.
“I knew it,” I say to myself as I toss it in the trash before walking out to the kitchen. I nibble on a bagel, taking my birth control at 8 a.m. and trying to sip some orange juice. Since it’s Sunday, I don’t have any plans, and any plans I would have made would be canceled anyway. I flip through the TV, and Ranger texts me a few minutes later to check in on me.
Ranger:Good morning. You survive the night?
Me:Barely. Thanks for coming over and taking care of me . . . and for tucking me in. Missed you this morning.
I see the three little dots start to bounce on the screen, then they disappear. I wait several minutes before his response appears.
Ranger:Early mornings, cowboy life ;) I hope you’re feeling better?
I’m tempted to grab the pregnancy test and send him a picture of the negative response, but I don’t want to make it weird.
Me:Better than ever. Hope you have a nice Sunday.
Ranger:You sure? Need me to bring you more soup?
I want to say yes. I want him to come to my rescue and spend the day with me, but I’ve already been taking up so much of his time lately, and I know he needs to tend to things at the ranch.
Me:I’ll be okay, but thank you! Seriously, super appreciate you. I need to clean my house today and run some errands.
Ranger:Okay, text me if you need anything.
Me:See you Wednesday night at the rodeo.
I hit SEND, leaning back to continue watching TV, when I feel the nausea taking over again. I toss my feet over the edge of the couch, standing up slowly and heading to the bathroom, where I spend the next few hours.
I manage to crawl back to bed a little while later. I’m in and out of sleep when I hear my phone ring. I grab it, squinting at the screen, where I see Brooklyn’s name.
“Hello?” My voice is raspy with sleep.
“Hey, did you get it too?”
“Huh?” I sit up, rubbing my eyes.
“Sick? I don’t know what happened, but I’ve thrown up so many times since brunch. I called Milly and she’s fine, so I’m guessing it’s just a 24-hour thing or maybe food poisoning.”
