* * *
reagan
Reagan had bought three pregnancy tests—a selection, since she didn’t know which one was the most reliable, and this was something she needed to trust. She’d told Serenity that she had to pick up some lip balm and a few other toiletries and borrowed the X5. She’d made the request when Serenity was writing and Lucy and Lorelei were out walking with Finn, so she wouldn’t be in danger of anyone asking to accompany her, and that had worked out perfectly.
Except, even after she’d purchased the tests, she’d found one excuse after another to avoid actually taking one. She didn’t want to do it even now. But with Serenity hard at work out on the deck and Lucy and Lorelei once again walking with Finn, she had the privacy. And with the weekend coming on, and Davis and Nolan arriving on Sunday, she didn’t want this hanging over her head, ruining any fun she might have.
Her phone dinged with a text from Rally. Did you do it?
Not yet, she wrote back.
Take a deep breath and get it over with. You have to find out at some point.
Easy for you to say.
If you are pregnant, it won’t be the end of the world.
Oddly enough, after she’d broken her date with him, Rally had continued to text her. They’d even spoken on the phone twice—late, after Lorelei and Serenity had gone to bed. One of those phone calls had lasted for over an hour, the next for forty-three minutes. Since she was going to be gone for so long and had no expectation of a romantic relationship with him, it’d been easy to fall into a friendship—and that had encouraged her to tell him everything, the whole sordid story.
She’d thought he might quit contacting her. The facts didn’t make her look good. But he’d remained in touch, had been kind, supportive, even willing to offer some advice.
It felt so comforting to have someone to confide in.
Of course, he was probably counting his blessings that the truth of her situation had been revealed before they’d ever gone out. But she could only care about so many things right now, and being self-conscious with him about her predicament wasn’t one of them. That was why she’d confided in him. He was so removed from the situation it felt safe.
Would you pee on it already? he wrote.
God, you’re pushy, she wrote back.
You could be going through hell for nothing. Stand up and take it like a man.
Ha, ha! Funny...
I have my moments.
Too bad you’re not facing this instead of me.
Spoken like a true narcissist.
She sent him a horrified emoji.
Kidding. Anyway, if you don’t want the baby, I’ll take it.
She stared at those words. What?
Never mind. You’ll want it. It’ll be the best thing that ever happened to you.
How could that be true? She had no job. The father of the child would be furious. Just telling him would create a battle she’d have to fight for the next eighteen years. Her mother would be appalled. She herself would never be able to forget how the baby was conceived so this child would be a constant reminder of her naiveté and stupidity.
Need she go on?
You’ll see, he added when she didn’t respond.
“I hope I don’t see,” she mumbled. You’re supposed to be rooting for the opposite.
I am. So put us both out of our misery and take the damn test.
She didn’t want him pressuring her. And yet...without some pressure, she knew she might chicken out again. “What the heck,” she said. Doing it now.
As she opened the package that looked the most promising—the one that seemed to imply the best chance of a negative result—she thought of Drew, of that heated encounter, and was embarrassed. How had she done what she’d done at work of all places? On his desk? And, he, a married man?
She groaned. Somehow she’d gotten so caught up in the excitement and the attraction—in looking for him around every corner, in listening for his voice, in that rush of awareness when she found him watching her—she hadn’t realized how tawdry and ridiculous her actions were. She’d believed he cared about her. That she was in love with him. That they were somehow different from all other couples who’d had in-office affairs.
How foolish!
The more days that passed without any word from him, the more she began to realize he couldn’t ever have cared about her. He was just spoiled and rich and bored; he’d used her as entertainment. And if he wasn’t the man she’d thought he was, how could she be in love with him?
She was in love with the romanticized version of him she’d created in her own mind—that was all.
“Bastard,” she muttered as she unwrapped the applicator and moved to the toilet.
At first, she was so nervous she couldn’t release her bladder. After she managed to squeeze out a few drops, her hand shook as she held the receptacle. A plus would indicate she was pregnant; a minus that she wasn’t.
“Minus, minus, minus,” she chanted as she paced the length of the bathroom.
But what eventually appeared was what she’d known in her heart—what some sixth sense had already told her. Her worst nightmare was coming true; she was going to have Drew’s baby.
“No!” she cried and dropped the tester as though it had burned her.
Bending over, she put her hands on her knees and gasped for air so she wouldn’t pass out. This couldn’t be real. There had to be some mistake.
She grabbed the sack that held the other two kits. She’d take them all and pray that one or both of the last two tests would indicate she wasn’t pregnant. That would at least allow her to hope there’d been a mistake.
But there was no mistake. All three showed the same thing.
Tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped off her chin as her phone went off. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard the chimes of rapid-fire texts, but she ignored them. She couldn’t focus on her phone when she was wallowing in the depths of misery.
The insistence of the person, who then called, hung up and called again, finally forced her to look at her screen.
It was Rally, of course. He was expecting to hear the results.
She let the call transfer to voice mail. She couldn’t answer because she couldn’t speak. The terror roiling in her gut wasn’t just making her eyes water, it was clogging her throat, causing her to tremble, turning her bones to rubber.
How could she have destroyed her life—for “fifteen minutes of panting and one good climax” as Drew had put it?
More ringing.
Rally wouldn’t give up.