Page 75 of You Girl (The Lucky Girls 3)

I envy Rachel and her period cramps right now. I’d rather have that than possibly be pregnant, or worse, actually pregnant.

It doesn’t take very long before I need to pee, and I grab my handbag. I have the tests in there, and I don’t want anyone to see me walking to the bathroom with it. The last thing I need is to be the topic of gossip in the office. I’d much rather go home and take care of it there, but I can’t take the morning off. Not without a good excuse.

I can say I’m sick—I sure as hellfeelawful.

But I’m stuck here.

The bathrooms are private—it’s not set up with cubicles. When I lock the door, I’m alone and I don’t have to worry about someone else walking in.

I pee on both pregnancy sticks, recap them, wipe them clean, and put them back in their packets in my handbag before I wash my hands. I can’t wait in the bathroom without it looking suspicious.

When I walk back to my office, my handbag feels heavy.

I shut my door and sit behind my desk again. I don’t even try to look at the drawings we’re sending Raven. Right now, I can’t think of anything else than those tests, cooking up a result in my handbag.

My cheeks burn and I feel flushed. My heart beats too fast and I feel faint, my breath coming in shallow. My stomach turns and I feel like I’m going to throw up.

Morning sickness?

Just stress.

Time drags on. It’s only three minutes, but I feel like I’m stuck in a time loop.

Finally, it’s time to check.

I retrieve both tests from my handbag with trembling hands. I put them down on the desk in front of me, and I take a deep breath. When I turn them over, they’re both positive.

My stomach drops.

I’m pregnant.

I can’t have another baby now. I can’t do this all over again. I’m alone. David was here for the first one, but he left me with Kylie when she was just four. It was hard to get to where we are now. To start all over again and do it all alone this time…

My stomach turns, and I feel like I am going to pass out. Nausea comes over me in waves, and my stomach turns another time.

I slide off my chair to the floor on my knees and throw up in the wastepaper basket under my desk.

I’m pregnant.

I retch and heave, emptying the contents of my stomach into the little bin until there’s nothing left in my body to deposit. When I’m done, my eyes water and my nose runs and I grab a tissue to clean myself up a bit. I drink the last bit of water from the bottle I didn’t empty and pull myself up onto my chair again.

When I’m seated, I shake my head and drop it onto my arms.

I’m pregnant.

And it’s Mason’s baby.

Thinking about him sends a shock through my system. How am I supposed to go to him now and tell him that we’re having a baby? We’re great together—Dianne herself said it’s got nothing to do with time how well we get along. But that doesn’t change the fact that we’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks.

We might have clicked from the start, but that doesn’t mean that I’m ready to have a baby with him.

Or that he’s ready to have a baby at all.

His mom’s in hospital. His relationship with his dad is worse than anything I’ve heard of before.

He feels tied down, pushed into a corner, unable to live his dreams. And now…if I tell him about the baby, what will that do to him? More of the same. It will force him to give over more time and money to someone else rather than doing what he’s passionate about.

I was serious when I said to him I would always be there for him. I meant it.

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