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I wave her off, it was my own weird worry to begin with. I doubted I was even pregnant, but I had a nagging feeling inside my chest. I wanted that small relief from the proof that it wasn’t possible. Grabbing a bottle from the vending machine that thankfully took a card, I wandered back to Jensen’s side.
“I let Coach know that Cole probably won’t make it in for a few days or more,” he said, putting his phone into his pocket and resting his head in his hands.
My heart aches that they were in this situation. “What happened, Jensen? I didn’t know his house was that bad.”
“That’s why I was always trying to get him to move in. His place is a dump, and his mom barely even acknowledges his existence. He has to lock his room to keep others out.” He sighs, cracking his neck back and forth.
“Why didn’t either of you explain that to me? I would have told him to move in.”
Jensen grimaces. “Cole was convinced that his mom would figure out some way to sue you for kidnapping or something. He wanted to wait till he was 18, and I guess he did. Just moved into a different room than I thought.” The snarky tone reminds me that he’s not okay with what happened between us.
“I don’t think he should return to his house,” I say softly, more than motherly care pushing the demand.
“I know.” His defeated stance makes my stomach twist.
I reach over and place my hand on his forearm. “He can stay in the guestroom, and nothing else will happen between us. I promise.”
Jensen pulls his arm away, and I try not to be hurt by it. “It wouldn’t really matter if you did. It’s already happened, so what's the point?”
“Out of respect for you–”
He scoffs. “If you had respect, you wouldn’t have done it to begin with.”
“Watch your tone, Jensen. I made a mistake, but I’m still your mother,” I scold.
His nostrils flare, but he mutters an apology before facing me fully. “Is it a mistake, though? If I hadn’t caught you guys that night, you would have continued seeing him. Wouldn’t you?”
He’s not wrong. I stopped viewing Cole as a mistake the minute I agreed to that date. My only regret was hurting my son. We both knew we were risking our relationship with Jensen if we were ever caught, but that didn’t seem to deter us from each other.
Jensen can clearly see the conflict on my face as he nods and turns back to watch the door Cole had disappeared behind. There was probably more to be said, but we seemed to be at a standstill for the night.
Another hour goes by before a doctor comes out to greet us. I stand promptly, and Jensen lingers behind me. “Ribs are bruised, but none broken. We patched up the split skin on his forehead, but he is showing signs of a concussion. We don’t suspect any signs of internal bleeding, but we’re just waiting on the ultrasound, just in case.”
Relief courses through my body, and I exhale loudly. “Can we see him?”
“Just waiting on the imaging, then he’ll be ready to be released. One of you can go back to see him.” The doctor nods before we can thank him and walks back out the door.
I turn to Jensen. “Did you want to see him?”
Jensen’s jaw tics. “He’ll probably want to see you more.”
“That’s not true, Jensen. He still loves you.”
My son shrugs and makes his way back to the waiting room chairs. The nurse from the front desk smiles at me as she comes to open the door to the back. She catches my arm as I try to pass her and pushes something into my hand. I stare down at the foiled packet and am shocked when I realize it’s a simple pregnancy test.
“Most of the restrooms are already stocked with urine cups,” She whispers before swiping her badge to open the door and leading me to Cole’s room.
My gut turns when I see him lying on the bed, his swollen eyes shut, but his chest is moving steadily. The nurse moves to the computer on the side of the bed and hums. “Looks like they gave him a low dose of pain medication. He might be out for a bit, but he should wake up soon.”
She gives me a small smile and thumbs up as she leaves the room, pulling the curtain behind her before shutting the door. I glance down at the test in my hand, not wanting to feed into that false hope.
“If it’s negative, it doesn’t change anything in your life,” I whisper, shaking my head before moving to the bathroom after one final glance at my potential baby daddy.
The urine cups are easy to find under the sink, and I stare at the small foil packet on the counter as I force myself to pee in it. I feel foolish even considering taking this test. My husband and I tried for so long. While Cole and I haven’t been careful, I’m only a few years shy of forty. It shouldn’t be that easy.
Setting down the warm plastic container, I get up and wash my hands. I pick up the foil, looking for instructions, and grimace when I come up blank. There wasn’t time to even grab my phone when we rushed out of the house.
“Well, it can’t be that hard to figure out.” I rip it open and stare at the thin white stripe. The pink side is marked HCG, and the other side has a black line marked max. Thankfully, it’s easy enough to understand what end goes where. Dipping it, I wait till I see the liquid soaked and set back on the counter.
