2 Months Later

 

I shift the car into park and take a deep breath, scanning the lot before I exit the vehicle. I drove to the pharmacy on the edge of town so I wouldn’t run into anyone I know. I grab my purse and step out into the sunshine, throwing back my shoulders and lifting my head up high.

Not that I’m worried, obviously.

I just don’t want to get any rumors swirling at the office. I’m still six weeks away from getting my full benefits package and I don’t want anyone finding a lame excuse to send me packing just so they don’t have to pay them out to someone who…

I walk into the cool store and avoid the eyes of the other customers. I’m not here to make friends. I’m on a mission. I swerve down the aisle with the feminine products and search in vain. Where are they? I don’t see them anywhere.

My shoulders tense up and I make my way up the next aisle, full of condoms, lube, and... there we go, pregnancy tests.

I almost want to laugh at the set up. Almost. It’s like the stock person had a grand design idea when he put the boxes of pee sticks next to all the other stuff. Like he was saying “If you don’t use these, you might need this!”

My throat squeezes tight and I peer at the tests out of the corner of my eye, like I’m afraid that I’ll make my suspicions come true if I look at them straight on. Like somehow, by buying one of these things, I’m going to make real what my sore boobs and early morning nausea has been hinting at. As if the little lines that appear will make the pregnancy real, not the little baby that might be growing inside me right now.

I realize I’m holding my belly and drop my hand, snapping out of my daze.

What am I going to do if I am pregnant with Connor’s child? I know, with absolute certainty that it would be his. I haven’t even kissed another man since I last saw him, when was that? Two months ago. Damn. I haven’t had my period in over two months? Do I even need this test?

A groan escapes my lips and a woman down the aisle gives me a look of pity before pretending I don’t exist again.

Thanks lady, you don’t even know the half of it. If I am carrying Connor’s child, what am I going to do? I don’t want to do it alone, but I don’t know if he’ll even want me back after I took off that night and never returned.

He called night and day the first week, but I didn’t know what to say to him. I told myself that I’d get over him in time, but the truth is he got over me. The calls dropped off. Not that I blame him. There’s just too much bad blood, too much history. Connor can have any woman he wants, I’m sure he’s moved on with a few of them by now.

Ugh, Marcus. I can’t even think about him right now. I push away the thoughts and pluck a pink box from the shelf. This one promises to give the earliest results in a digital readout that tells you how far along you are. It’s pricey, but it comes with two tests. I’d rather buy two expensive tests and get it right, than spend five times less on the cheap ones and not be sure.

Should I call him? I’ve thought about it every single day since I walked out. I run my hand over my hair and sigh, let’s just tackle one crisis at a time. Take the test and then figure things out with Connor.

I begin to walk up the aisle when something makes me stop in my tracks.

“Lottie! I mean, Charlotte, wait up,” I turn and my mouth hangs open when I spot Connor coming toward me.

Butterflies explode into a million beating wings in my chest as ice runs through my veins. He can’t see the test! He’ll know everything before I can even think of how to talk to him about it. Without thinking, I stuff the pink box in my purse and sling it back over my hip.

“Connor,” my voice is shaky and my hands are sweating. “Hey, what are you doing here?” I try to sound casual but it comes out more like an accusation.

“I came into town for a supply run,” he nods to the soap and shampoo in his basket. “What about you?” He looks down at my empty hands.

“Uh, yeah, same, gonna get some shampoo,” I lie. I haven’t been to a pharmacy yet that sells good shampoo or conditioner for black hair.

“I should go,” I turn but Connor circles his fingers around my arm.

“No, Charlotte, please. I can’t stop thinking about you. Why didn’t you answer my calls? I need to talk to you, give me a chance, please?”

I whirl back around on my heel and get locked in his intense eyes. All I’ve thought about is him too. I want to talk to him more than he can possibly know. I want to tell him that I miss him. That I’m scared. That I need him and always have. That my life is empty without him but complicated with him. I need to spill it all before I burst at the seams.

“Okay, I’m listening.”