Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
I hesitate, staring at the tests. My voice feels distant when I finally speak. “The digital one, I guess.”
“Good choice,” she says, tearing open the box with precision. “Go do your thing, and don’t overthink it. It’s just pee.”
“Just pee,” I echo, though it feels like so much more than that. My legs feel wobbly as I stand, and I clutch the test in one hand like it’s a ticking time bomb.
Dolly gives me an encouraging smile. “You’ve got this.”
The bathroom feels like the smallest, quietest room in the world as I close the door behind me. The instructions on the box are straightforward, but my hands shake as I follow them: Pee on the stick, try not to make a mess, set the test on the counter when I’m done.
Now comes the hard part: waiting.
I pace the tiny space, my mind racing with possibilities.
What if it’s positive?
What if it’s negative?
My stomach flips as I glance at the timer on my phone, the seconds ticking down like an ominous drumbeat.
Finally, the timer goes off and I freeze, my heart pounding. For a moment, I can’t bring myself to look. What if this changes everything?
A knock on the door startles me. “You okay in there?”
I take a deep breath and open the door, holding the test out to her without looking at it. “You check.”
Her eyes widen. “Are you sure?”
I nod, my voice barely a whisper. “I can’t.”
She takes the test gingerly, her expression unreadable as she glances down. Seconds feel like hours as I search her face for any clue. Then she looks up at me, her lips parting as if to speak.
“Well?” I ask, my voice cracking.
“It’s…” She pauses, her expression softening. “Austin, it’s positive.”
When the room tilts, I grip the doorframe to steady myself.
I feel like I’m going to pass out.
Faint.
Literally topple over.
Dolly is at my side in an instant, wrapping me in a hug. “It’s okay—you can take another one to be sure.”
I nod, filling with dread.
Dolly hands me another small, white box, her hands trembling enough that I notice. I take the second test, removing the plastic stick from its plastic wrapper.
“It’s going to be fine,” Dolly says softly, but her voice wavers, betraying her own uncertainty.
I force myself to breathe, even though my chest feels tight. The walls seem closer, the air thicker. I lean over the sink for a moment, gripping its edge, trying to ground myself.
You can do this.
Just take the test.
I pee on another stick.
Wait.
My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it’s trying to climb up my throat. I pick up the test and force myself to look at the screen.
The digital screen says one word: PREGNANT
Again.
Dolly lingers in the doorway.
I hold up the test wordlessly; her eyes dart to it, and then to my face. She doesn’t say anything at first, but then she reaches for my hand, threading her fingers through mine.
“It’s real,” I say, my voice breaking on the last word. “This is happening.”
Dolly exhales shakily and nods, a faint smile flickering on her lips before fading. “We’ll figure it out,” she says, squeezing my hand.
“It’s going to be okay,” she tells me confidently. “You’re going to be okay. Gio is going to be okay.”
Tears prick my eyes as I nod against her shoulder, the weight of the news settling over me.
“What am I going to tell him?” I croak out. “Oh my God, Dolly—what if he thinks I’m trapping him for money?”
“He’s not going to think you’re trapping him. He slept with you clearly without protection.” Her lips purse. “It’s as much his responsibility as yours.”
My mind goes back to the day he came to my apartment, unannounced, and we had sex on the table in my entryway.
And the time we banged in the shower with no condom.
Still. Nothing is foolproof.
“Hey.” Dolly's hand squeezes my shoulder. “Do you want to celebrate with ice cream or cry into it?”
I laugh, the sound shaky but real. “Both?”
This is kind of a nightmare.
I can’t eat.
Can’t sleep.
The next morning, after Dolly has gone because she had to go to work—I act weird when Gio texts, unable to be my normal, upbeat self.
Gio: Everything okay babe?
I stare at his message, stomach curling.
I press a hand there.
Austin: Yeah, just tired. Long day.
I hate myself for lying, but what am I supposed to do? Spill my guts and admit the truth? That I’m not okay, that my thoughts are tangled in knots, that I don’t even know how to explain this overwhelming unease?
I have to figure this out before I self-sabotage.
Gio: Are you sure? You seem off.
Of course I seem off!
I’M PREGNANT!
I let out a shaky breath. How does he always know? It's like he has a sixth sense for when I'm not being completely honest. My fingers hover over the keyboard, but I can’t type anything. What do I even say?