Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
I’m a mess.
Getting back to work, I pop my earbuds back into my ears and start with the shower first. Once that’s done, I move to the toilet and then the countertop. Dropping to my knees, I pull everything out from beneath the cabinet and wipe it down before putting everything back.
Grabbing the unopened box of Tampons, I place them neatly and close the door. I stand and freeze.
Tampons.
Unopened box.
No.
No.
No.
Digging into the side pocket of my leggings for my phone, I frantically tap at the screen to pull up my calendar.
I’m late.
Two weeks late.
I’m never late, and I’ve been so preoccupied with trying to pretend as if I wasn’t head over heels in love with Rushton to notice. Pulling up the browser on my phone, I search for reasons your period could be late, and stress is one of them. I’m sure that’s all that it is. I’ve been stressing out about what I wanted to do. That’s been a lot.
Pulling my earbuds out, I place them on the counter next to my phone and peel out of my clothes. I need a shower. I’m stressing over every little thing. I just need to get ready and wait for Rushton to get here, and everything will be fine.
It’s fine.
Except now, I can’t turn the idea off. We had unprotected sex. Twice. I’m on the pill to regulate my periods, but crazier things have happened. I finish my shower and get dressed, taking the time to put loose curls in my short hair. The entire time I keep glancing at my flat stomach. I won’t be able to stop obsessing until I know.
Glancing at the clock, I still have several hours before Rushton gets off work, so I grab my purse and keys and head to town. Except when I get to town, I keep driving. I can’t buy a pregnancy test in Willow River. Everyone knows there’s something between Rushton and me, and everyone knows Rushton and his family.
A trip to Harris it is.
I try listening to the radio, but my thoughts are louder, so I complete the drive in silence. When I finally pull into the parking lot of the pharmacy, I’m freaking out. Peering in the rearview mirror, you can’t see the internal battle I’m waging inside.
“Just go in and buy the test, Crosby,” I whisper to myself. Grabbing my purse and my keys, I head inside. I find the pregnancy tests easy enough, and I’m a little overwhelmed by all of the options, so as any sane person would do, I choose five different ones. Better safe than sorry, and I know myself. One will not be enough to convince me of the outcome.
There’s no line at the checkout, and ten minutes later, I’m back on the road and headed toward home. The twenty-minute drive seems to take mere minutes. I’m so lost in thought. I’m lucky I wasn’t in an accident or worse with how distracted I am. Clutching the bag, I rush inside and make my way to the bathroom. Dumping the bag out on the counter, I pick a random box, read the directions, and get down to business, taking the first test.
The box says five minutes, so I leave the room and pace back and forth from the living room to the kitchen until my phone alerts me that my time is up. This is it. This is the moment when my life could change forever.
Walking back into the bathroom, I close my eyes and take a calming breath before opening them and reaching for the test. Two pink lines.
I’m pregnant.
Tears immediately prick my eyes as I run to the kitchen, grab a bottle of water, and begin to chug. I should have peed in a damn cup so I could take the rest, or hell, opened them and taken them all at once. Instead, I sit on the bathroom floor, chug the water, and wait until the urge hits me. Within fifteen minutes, I’m taking two more tests and resting them on the counter. I repeat the same process of pacing, but this time I hold the positive test in one hand while the other rests over my flat belly.
Over my baby.
“I’m pregnant,” I whisper. I need to say the words out loud for them to sink in.
My phone beeps for the second time, and I rush back to the bathroom to get the results. Flipping over the test, I got two more positives. Three total.
I’m pregnant.
I’m going to be a mom.
Tears instantly coat my cheeks as a sob racks my chest. I can’t control my tears. I drop all three tests into the sink and find my way back to the living room. I curl up on the couch, pulling the blanket over me, and let it out.
I cry for all I’ve lost.