Page 35 of Triplet Babies for the CEO

The trees are ablaze in fiery reds, deep golds, and rich oranges, their colors spilling across the road as if a painter had taken a brush to the entire landscape. I turn my gaze out thewindow, hoping the sight of the autumn leaves will calm the tangled mess of nerves in my chest.

The beauty of it is overwhelming, like a living postcard, but even the peaceful scenery can’t loosen the knot of anxiety inside me.

The golden sunlight filters through the canopy, casting warm, dappled patterns across the road, the light shifting and dancing. I try to focus on those patterns, to let them soothe me, but my mind is elsewhere, racing over everything.

The possibility of being pregnant, of carrying Brody’s baby, the nerves and fear of it all, sit in my chest like a strange, bittersweet weight, tugging at feelings I can’t even name.

Then there’s Gemma, sitting just a few feet away, unknowingly bringing me closer to the tests that could confirm everything I’ve been fearing and hoping for all at once.

The whole situation feels surreal, heavy with irony and tangled emotions. A pang of guilt sharpens inside me, and I shift uncomfortably, trying not to fidget as Gemma hums along to the radio, lost in the music and seemingly oblivious to the storm inside me.

Still, every now and then, she glances over with a little smile, a quick look of reassurance, and I force myself to smile back, hoping it hides everything I’m feeling.

Please, Gemma,just keep the questions to yourself.

Finally, we pull up to the drugstore, and the building looks like something out of an old movie. It’s the kind of place where everyone knows each other, where shoppers exchange friendly nods and shopkeepers chat with regulars.

Small, tidy flower boxes filled with marigolds and mums sit beneath the windows, while a red and white striped awning shades the entrance.

The small-town charm feels simultaneously comforting and suffocating, as though every set of eyes inside already knows why I’m here.

We step inside as the faint scent of lavender and floor polish fills the air, mixed with the soft hum of conversation from a few patrons scattered about.

Gemma glances down one aisle and grins, gesturing toward the beauty section. “I’ll be over here for a bit,” she says with a wink, making a beeline for the shelves lined with lipsticks and mascara.

I nod, grateful for the space, and offer a quick smile in return, my mind already racing as I turn and head toward the back of the store.

Each step toward the women’s health section feels like it takes a small eternity, my footsteps echoing in the quiet.

When I reach the aisle, I stop, staring at the shelves before me, taking in the entire display of pregnancy tests, rows upon rows of boxes in shades of pink and blue, some boasting accuracy down to the hour, others promising “early results”.

My heart races as I scan the options, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer number of choices. I realize with a jolt that I have no idea which one to choose. I’ve never been in this position before.

Back when I was with my ex, we were always careful—meticulously careful.

This moment had never crossed my mind.

But with Brody...it’s like everything was different from the start.

There was a trust, a closeness. Something that made me let my guard down, maybe even recklessly.

It wasn’t just attraction—it was a sense of safety, of wanting to let go of every wall I’d ever put up.

Maybe, in some deep, unspoken way, I let caution slip away.

As I take a shaky breath in, I grab the first box my hand lands on, clutching it tightly.

My fingers curl around the edges, as though holding it will somehow ground me, even as my mind continues to spin.

In this moment, I wish more than anything that I could fade into the shelves, disappear until this is all over.

I keep my head down as I make my way to the front, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might give me a knowing look. The floor tiles pass in a blur, and my grip tightens around the boxes in my hands, as if holding onto them will somehow anchor me in this moment.

Walking toward the counter, I feel every muscle in my body tighten. I am praying for a quick escape. If I can just get to the register, pay, and tuck the bag discreetly under my arm, maybe I can get through this unnoticed.

My heart hammers so hard in my chest that I feel it in my throat, and my hands grip the pregnancy test boxes so tightly that the edges dig into my palms.

I steal a quick glance over my shoulder, half-expecting to see Gemma coming around the corner, and brace myself for what I might say if she does.

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