Chapter Fifteen
A week later, Clara had only left the apartment for a handful of food runs and her job interview, both of which had been bright spots in an otherwise sad and pitiful week. The interview had only been slated for forty minutes, but she and the director hit it off so well that she’d stayed an extra half hour chatting and talking about lesson plans. They said they’d call within a week, but Clara had a gut feeling the job was already hers. She’d knocked it out of the park—which knocked her back to reality when the first person she wanted to share the news with was Adrien.
But that was part of learning to live without him. It stung at first—and sucked, really—but armed with snacks, Netflix, and her vibrator, she at least had a chance at emerging from the cloud of despair of losing Adrien.
Even though you pushed him out of your life. You didn’t lose him.
Crumpled tissues lined the couch from the latest sappy rom com. Adrien wasn’t helping matters by sending constant sweet text messages from across the world. Her phone vibrated with a new arrival. She looked at it glumly. I hope you’re reading these. I want to see you when I get back. Two more days.
God, she wanted to see him, too. She wanted that more than almost anything. The week apart from him had been physically painful, like being deprived of a necessary organ.
Just marry him. You want to be with him. You two are in love.
The thought jarred something lose inside of her. Excitement mingled with fear. Three weeks in and she was in love? Was that even possible? She blew her nose. According to the rom coms, it was. But that doesn’t happen in real life.
Except it felt like it happened in real life. She swiped a tortilla chip through the guacamole, then into a jar of hot sauce. She’d been craving hot sauce recently, which was odd, since it wasn’t entirely her favorite condiment. She’d gotten the organic exotic brand from Southern Mexico when she stopped by Whole Foods—just because she could, for now. Until the money dried up again, that was.
Parting ways with Adrien had been killer. More difficult than breaking up with her college boyfriend of three years, even, which was saying something. So what was different about him? Why was she being so damn emotional about it?
She reached for another tissue just in case. It would pass in time; it had to. There was no way a three-week fling with a billionaire prince could ruin her for life…right?
She squinted at the calendar hanging on the wall above her desk. Two more days meant he’d be home on Wednesday. Necessary information for planning the remainder of his blind date schedule. That, at least, was sanctioned communication. After making a few updates to the spreadsheet, she prepared a draft e-mail listing his upcoming dates.
She sniffed, clutching at a breast. Her boobs had been hurting recently. Way more than her pre-period norm. Between the hot sauce and the crying and the boob pain, she almost thought…
Her eyes widened, sliding back to the calendar. When the fuck was my last period? She shoved the laptop aside, stumbling over to the couch, legs clumsy from the sedentary week behind her. She flipped to the previous month, counted the days since her last period.
And then she counted again. And again.
Each time, the result was the same.
Five days late.
She stood staring into space for what felt like an hour. Could it really be true? Her period was usually like a timepiece, more reliable than the moon. She’d never been late in her adult life by more than one day. Ever.
Pregnant? The word drifted, foreign and strange, through the recesses of her mind. It couldn’t be. They’d used protection, every time except the last time, which couldn’t possibly have impregnated her. It was too recent. And other than that, there had been no slips, no foibles.
She wandered the studio gape-mouthed, eyes sliding from floor to ceiling to couch to wall. This was…she struggled to settle on any one emotion. It seemed they were all inside her, crowding around, vying for attention.
Newsworthy. That was the only word that finally emerged from the tumult. Worthy of sharing, worthy of telling Adrien. But first, she had to verify it. Maybe she was just late after all. Maybe it wasn’t a baby in there, but just a very angry, startled menstrual cycle that refused to come out.
Grabbing her purse, she toed her shoes on and hurried out the front door to the pharmacy down the street. Incredulity mingled with confusion. What would she do if she was pregnant? What about her job? What about Adrien?
Solutions leapt from the shadows of her mind. You’ll be fine. He’ll take care of us. You’ll go on maternity leave. You’ll marry him. You’ll raise a loving, well-adjusted, half-royal child.
Her hand drifted to her low belly, wondering what a baby might feel like in there, if it really was in there. Could she tell, if she concentrated hard enough? She bit back a smile.
In the pharmacy, she deliberated for a while over which pregnancy test looked the most reliable. Several options were eliminated because of lazy packaging; one was a maybe due to detailed descriptions but slightly intimidating instructions; and then there were a handful that looked reputable and top of the line, as far as these things went. She ended up closing her eyes and pointing.
On the walk back to her apartment, she looked at the world around her with wonder. Was this the first time she was seeing the world as a pregnant lady? What would she tell her mom, or Katy?
As she climbed the stairwell to her apartment, she clutched the box tighter, like she might lose it in a gust of wind. She should have bought two. Just in case the first one was illegible.
Inside the bathroom, she tore open the packaging and sat on the toilet, tense over the pee stick. Excitement choked her. Five minutes later, she dared to look at the tiny window.
The two pink lines were bright and bold as day.