Page 111 of Baby Surprise for my Brother's Best Friend

With all the stress of everything, it slipped my mind.

It’s probably nothing, right? Just everything going on…

Shaking, I pull the test from its box, hands fumbling with the foil wrapper.

My fingers feel too big, too clumsy, like they belong to someone else.

The bathroom light buzzes overhead, too bright.

I perch awkwardly and pee in that stick like it’s nobody’s business.

When I’m done, I set the stick on the edge of the sink, a live grenade that I’m not ready for, and pace the tiny bathroom, heart hammering.

It’s just stress. It has to be stress. The merger. The late nights.

The excuses come fast, colliding in my mind, none of them sticking.

What if it’s not stress?

What if it’s him?

What if it’s us?

I sit on the edge of the tub, test clutched in my hand, the silence pressing in from every wall.

One minute. Two. Time drags, stretching each second into something sharp and unbearable.

The lines start to blur, on the stick, in my vision, in my mind.

I blink down, heart thudding in my throat.

Positive.

The air leaves my lungs in one sharp exhale.

My fingers go numb.

I don’t cry.

I just sit there, staring, as the world quietly shifts beneath me.

Then I slide down to the floor, knees drawn up, the test still clutched in my hand like it might rewrite itself if I squeeze it hard enough.

“Fuck.”

It slips out in a whisper, again and again, like maybe repetition will soften the blow.

The women’s voices echo in my head, cruel, smug, certain.

We’ve had our turn.

Hope you’re into sharing.

He doesn’t do relationships.

But sex? He does that really well.

And now I’m pregnant.

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