Page 11 of Need You To Choose Me

The door bursts open, and Rebecca stumbles into the bathroom, clearly startled by the whole ordeal.

Hazel eyes find mine, assessing me. “What are you doing? You just stormed out?—”

Her gaze falls to the counter.

On the test sitting there.

The big, fat plus sign shines brightly, although it’s barely been a minute since I took it, if that.

Rebecca’s mouth falls open as she stares at it before her head shoots up. “That’s not mine.”

“N-no.”

“You?”

I shrug helplessly, still unable to wrap my head around it.

“What’s going o—” Kate peeks over Rebecca’s shoulder, looking around the room, until she, too, spots the test. “Oh!”

“B-but… how? When?” Becky stutters, her eyes growing wide. “Please don’t tell me it’s with that douchebag of your ex. You cannot possibly be linked to that tool for the rest of your life.”

“No.” I shake my head adamantly. “You have to have sex in order to end up pregnant.”

“Well, that test clearly states you had sex!” Rebecca snorts.

There is no judgment in her voice, only pure curiosity. Still, I feel my cheeks heat at the accusation.

“Not with Mark. He…” My throat bobs as I swallow. “It’s not Mark’s.”

I watch as Becky blinks a few times as she processes my words. “Not— What?!”

I wince softly.

If this is how she reacted when she found out, what will other people say? My throat burns just thinking about it.

My family’s been the talk of the town one too many times in the past. But it’s not like I can keep this hidden forever. People will find out, and there will be gossip. This is Bluebonnet Creek, Texas, after all. There were some lovely people living here, but this was a small town and being pregnant and single wasn’t common. There would be questions and dirty looks.

Like mother, like daughter,the little voice at the back of my head taunts.

My vision turns blurry as my stomach rolls, and I run toward the toilet, dry heaving.

“Shit,” Becky curses as I fall to my knees and start throwing up, my loud retching filling the room.

This can’t be happening. It just can’t.

I grip the toilet seat as I throw up, my stomach convulsing in pain, my throat burning.

What the hell have I done?

I squeeze my eyes shut as I fight the retching, and I can feel tears fall down my cheeks.

Pregnant.

I’m pregnant.

My hair is pulled back, and something cold touches my neck, making me shudder as a hand soothes up and down my back. Becky’s gentle voice registers in my mind. “It’s going to be okay.”

But it won’t.

---