Page 45 of Sin Wager
"Everything all right?"
"Fine." I force brightness into my voice despite the nausea welling up again. "Just track business."
But my stomach rebels again as soon as the words leave my mouth. I barely make it to the bathroom before the tea comes back up, leaving me weak and shaky on the tile floor.
"Vera?" Elvin calls. "You sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine," I lie, pulling myself up to splash cold water on my face. But as I look at my reflection in the mirror, his earlier teasing echoes in my mind.
Classic signs of a woman getting thoroughly?—
No. It's just stress. The situation with Sonya, the fear about Pavel's death, the intensity of whatever's developing with Misha. My body is reacting to the pressure.
But as the morning wears on and the nausea comes in waves, Elvin's words won't leave me alone.
"You know," he says during a commercial break from the game show he's watching, "when Mama was pregnant before she miscarried, she couldn't keep anything down for the first three months."
I freeze in the middle of folding laundry. "Why would you bring that up?"
"Just thinking about family stories." He grins at me. "She used to joke that our sister was already giving her trouble before she was even born." He wags his eyebrows, but I remember clearly how painful it was when she lost the baby.
"That's not funny," I tell him, and I let the painful memory of my mother's pre-cancer diagnosis stain my words so the anxiety growing in my chest is less obvious.
"Oh, come on. You've been spending nights with that old man of yours, throwing up all morning, looking green around the gills?—"
"He's not that old."
"Forty-two is ancient compared to you. But that's not the point." Elvin's eyes twinkle with mischief. "The point is, maybe you should consider the possibility that you've got more than just stress making you sick."
The teasing makes me feel paranoid, even though I've been trying not to think about it. Misha and I haven't been careful. We've been too caught up in the heat and hunger for each other to think about consequences.
"I'm not pregnant," I say firmly.
"If you say so." But Elvin's expression is knowing. "Though if you were, that'd be something, wouldn't it? A baby with that dangerous man of yours."
The word "dangerous" makes me flinch. Batya said the same thing, that Misha was more dangerous than he appeared. Butdangerous in what way? And why does everyone see something I'm missing?
After Elvin falls asleep for his afternoon nap, I find myself staring at the bathroom door. The possibility he planted won't leave me alone, no matter how hard I try to push it away.
Finally, I grab my jacket and slip out of the apartment.
The corner pharmacy is only two blocks away, but the walk feels endless. Every step makes my heart pound harder, makes the possibility seem more real. By the time I reach the familiar glass doors, my palms are sweating.
The pregnancy tests are in aisle three, behind a row of vitamins and pain relievers. I grab the first box I see without looking at the brand, then add a pack of gum and a bottle of water to make the purchase seem casual.
The elderly pharmacist barely glances at me as I pay, but I feel exposed anyway, as though everyone in the store can see what I'm buying and why.
The walk home passes in a blur of anxious thoughts. What if it's positive? What do I tell Misha? What do I tell Batya? What happens when Sonya finds out and decides to use it against me?
Back in the apartment, Elvin is still sleeping. I lock myself in the bathroom and read the instructions twice before opening the test package. My hands shake as I follow the steps, then set the plastic stick on the counter and wait.
Three minutes I have to wait. The longest three minutes of my life.
I pace the tiny bathroom, avoiding my reflection in the mirror, trying not to think about what a positive result would mean. Misha and I have known each other for such a short time. We're still learning each other, still figuring out what we want from this relationship. A baby would change everything.
And then there's Sonya. If she finds out I'm pregnant, she'll see it as leverage—another way to control me, another pressurepoint to ensure my cooperation. She'll use my child the same way she's been using Elvin's illness.
When I finally look at the test, the result is clear.
