Chapter Twenty-Four
Alyssa
I held the plastic stick that could ultimately change my life in my hand, staring at it as I built up enough confidence to go through with it.
Working so much and raising a kid alone didn’t leave much time to make friends. The only people close enough in my life to talk to about this were Mom and Aiden.
I couldn’t imagine bringing Aiden into this, and my mom was off limits. She was jaded about men as it was, especially Liam, so no need to get lectured.
I didn’t even know yet, at least not until I peed on the little stick in my hand.
What was I thinking? Why had I not been more careful? I questioned myself about the encounters with Liam.
We’d used condoms, at least I was sure about the last two times, but what about the first? Oh my God, I couldn’t take the anticipation any longer. I had to know.
I sat down on the toilet, lifting my skirt so I could slide the stick between my legs. The urine rolled over the small window, determining my future, Liam’s future, and Holly’s.
I couldn’t be pregnant. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone, especially Holly. She just got her dad in her life; she shouldn’t have to share. Besides, another baby would certainly make him stay, but I’d never know if it was out of guilt or love.
I shook the stick, set it on the bathroom sink, and cleaned myself up. I stood there, watching the white window, feeling stress take over as I waited.
The two minutes felt like an eternity, but finally, it was ready to give me results.
Not pregnant. Thank God.
A knock at the door caused me to jump, letting out a little squeal from the surprise.
“Mom, are you okay?” Holly asked.
I shoved the stick in the bottom of the trash, covering it with tissues, and quickly opened the door.
“I’m fine, just a little belly trouble,” I assured her, patting her on the top of the head as I walked by.
“Can we order a pizza?” Holly asked as she went into the bathroom.
“Sure, I don’t feel like cooking,” I agreed, sitting at the kitchen table to catch my breath.
“What’s this?” Holly asked, holding a cardboard box with the letters EPT on the side.
I quickly got up, snatching the box from my daughter, who was too young to understand things like that.
“Nothing,” I said quickly, shoving the box into the kitchen trash.
“It’s a pregnancy test,” Holly stated sternly.
“How do you know what a pregnancy test is?” I questioned surprised.
“I’m eleven, not four,” Holly smirked.
I let out a sigh. Not one of relief, but one that just had to allow the extra air I’d been holding in to escape.
“I was just feeling a little funny, that’s all,” I said, hoping to end the conversation.
“Are you?” Holly asked, her tone accusing, and her expression filled with curiosity, confusion, possibly mixed with a little anxiety.
“No, no,” I assured her.
“Would it be dad’s?” she questioned.
“It’s nobody’s. I’m not. So there’s nothing to worry about,” I said quickly.
I sat back down at the table, flipping through my phone for the pizza delivery number. Holly sat down beside me, her eyes heavy on mine, obviously not ready to give up on the conversation.
“Why haven’t you called Dad back?” she asked.
“I tried, twice,” I countered.
“He said he hasn’t been able to talk to you,” she nagged.
“If he wanted to talk to me, he’d get ahold of me,” I snapped.
“He doesn’t have reception where he’s at,” she argued.
I rolled my eyes. Yeah, right. He just ran away.
“Things are complicated,” I explained.
I looked into my daughter's eyes, so filled with pain they made my heart ache.
“I thought you had a good time on your date,” she squeaked.
“I did, we did,” I sighed.
“Then what’s the problem?” she questioned.
“It’s just not that simple. It’s complicated,” I repeated.
“What’s so complicated?” she pushed.
“He left me before; who’s to say he won’t do it again, that he hasn’t already done it?” I blurted, not meaning to dump my anxiety on my daughter.
“He says. He told me he was helping a friend, and that he’d come back, and I believe him,” Holly growled.
“I’m just scared; that’s all,” I admitted.
“You need to get over it. I love him, and I want him in my life,” she huffed, pushing her chair out and stomping out of the kitchen.