One pink line means I'm not pregnant. Two pink lines means I am. I didn't want to do this, prayed I wouldn't have to do this. But every morning, like clockwork, the sickness comes, and it's been too many days in a row for me to have a virus.
I stand in the bathroom, feeling ill, but this time, it's not morning sickness. It's anticipation. At this point in time, I think I would almost rather have a life-threatening disease than end up pregnant. It's the last thing I need.
I sit on the toilet with my head in my hands as I wait for two minutes to pass. I don't even want to look at the damned test. This would not be my first pregnancy scare, I remind myself. A long time ago, Jeremy and I were having sex and the condom broke. Back then, I had psyched myself out into thinking I was pregnant. I felt ill in the mornings, though I only threw up once. This could be like that. It could all be in my head.
When I glance over at the pregnancy test though, I realize that it's not all in my head. Two pink lines. I grab the thing and chuck it across the room like it's a ninja throwing star. It ricochets off the shower wall and lands in the bathtub. Tears sear my eyes, and I desperately reach for the second test I bought. Different box. Different brand.
Pregnant, it says. I sit in the bathroom and sob uncontrollably. What am I going to do now?
I call in to work and lay in bed all day, which is the last thing I should be doing when I need to start planning to support another human being. I'm too emotionally drained though, and I need to figure out what I'm going to do.
Evelyn comes to check on me, lightly knocking on my door. “Tessa, are you okay?”
“Come in.” I pull the comforter up to my neck and peek out over it as she enters my room.
She closes the door lightly and gives me a sympathetic look. “I saw the pregnancy tests in the trash in the guest bathroom.”
I groan, thinking of those little pink lines that changed everything. Why did this have to happen to me?
“It's Anders'?” She sits next to me.
“Who else would it be?” my voice reflects my mood, grumpy to the core.
“What are you going to do?” She gently rubs my shoulder on top of the comforter. It's not as soothing as I would like it to feel. Right now, I don't really want to be touched.
“I don't know. I guess I tell him and we try to work something out.”
She smiles warmly at me. “So, you're going to keep it?”
“What choice do I have?” I press my head against the pillow and stare up at the ceiling, trying to picture my future with a kid. His kid. My eyes begin to water at the thought. Am I going to end up like Angela, a single mom with no one to help me raise my child. This is not how I wanted my life to play out at all. Anders hasn't just ruined me emotionally; he's also destroyed my future. It's hard to believe that one man can do so much damage.
“Hey. It's going to be okay.” Evelyn gives my arm a gentle shake, stirring me away from the negative thoughts that are obviously overwhelming me. “This is going to be fun. We're going to get to go shopping for baby stuff together. And you and the kid can stay here as long as you want. Besides, Martin and I plan to get pregnant soon too. It would be cool if our kids could grow up together. Heck, maybe we can even be pregnant together.”
I can't help but laugh. That's a horrible idea. The two of us pregnant at the same time. Poor Martin would probably kill himself. “Sounds like fun.”
“There's the smile. Everything will be alright. This isn't the end of the world. Martin and I are going to take care of you.”
“I really don't deserve a friend as good as you.” I reach over the covers to take her hand and draw it up to my lips. I seriously don't know what I'd do without her. I would be totally screwed.
“And just think, even if Flash Lightning doesn't want to stick around and play dad, you'll be getting some massive child support checks. Hell, you might not even have to work again for the next eighteen years.” I know it's meant as a joke, but there's a hint of seriousness behind it.
“I don't want his money.” I just want him. Want him by my side to help raise our child. I don't want to be alone.
“So, when are you going to tell him?” She scoots further onto the edge of the bed so I can sit up.
“Tonight.”
***
The sooner I get this over with, the better. I don't want it looming over my head for days, dragging on this feeling of dread. I have no idea how he's going to react. I don't even know how to break the news to him. I've been over it inside my head a dozen times, but nothing ever comes out right. This is something I'm just going to have wing, I think.
I stand in front of the door to his loft, rubbing my stomach as if the child inside will give me comfort. My knees are shaking from nervousness, and I feel nauseous. This is the worst thing you could ever tell a guy that you're no longer dating. What if he doesn't believe me? What if he just thinks that I'm after his money?
“Tessa.” Anders smiles as soon as his eyes land on my face. I feel like a mouse, cowering away from him as if I fear he can read my mind. Surely, I look strange to him, standing there with my hand on my stomach. I have to remind myself to drop my arms to my sides. “I have the invoice for the new headboard, if that's what you're here for.” He disappears inside, and my heart drops. That's not what I'm here for. Maybe I should just take the invoice and scurry away. It sounds like the better thing to do.
He returns shortly and hands me a piece of paper. I stare down at it stupidly, reading the numbers. $389. Not as bad as I had anticipated.
“That's not what I'm here for.” The words leave my lips, but it doesn't even sound like I'm saying them. My voice is foreign to me; I feel so out of it.
“What then?” He gazes down on me, and I can't read his expression.
My eyes well up with tears from the pressure of the situation. “I just miss you,” is all I can manage to squeak out.
He wraps me in his warm embrace as I collapse into a fit of sobs. Damn these hormones raging through me. I hope this isn't what I have to look forward to for the next eight months.
“Shh. It's alright. I miss you too,” his voice is soft and comforting as he holds me and strokes my hair, nuzzling his face against the top of my head. A sad part of me knows that this show of affection will be short-lived. Once he finds out I'm pregnant, he's going to hate me. “Come inside.” He guides me into his loft, and I follow like a lost puppy.
“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to break down like that,” I heave, wiping the tears away, though I can't seem to catch them fast enough.
“It's fine. Don't worry about it.” He sits me down on the sofa in the living room. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I just needed to see you. Need to talk to you.”
He lowers himself beside me, sitting so close that our legs are touching. I can't look him in the eye, so I just stare at his knee, focusing on the weave of the fabric of his slacks.
“So talk. I'm listening.”
“I don't know what to say,” I laugh, feeling stupid. Why is this so hard? I should just come out with it. The longer I keep this bottled up inside, the more difficult it will be to say it. I'm silently torturing myself.
He turns to me suddenly, and I feel his hand on my cheek. “Don't say anything then.” His lips are on mine in an instant, and I savor the taste of his mouth. This isn't what I want, but it's what I need. To feel desired, to feel loved. There's a strange sense of security in his touch, though I know it's all in my head. I reciprocate, thinking of the baby inside of me, thinking of how it got there.
“Anders,” I whisper his name as he trails featherlight kisses down my neck. He's being so gentle. This is exactly what I need to calm me. I need to forget about everything, if just for a little while.
He stands and offers me his hand. I take it and follow him into the bedroom. The first thing my eyes land on is the new bed. He didn't just replace the headboard. The invoice was probably a cheap lie. A merciful lie. Or maybe he only charged me for the headboard. I don't know. I don't care. He's behind me, brushing my hair away from my neck. His kisses are washing everything away. Washing my cares away. His large hands wrap around me, and I place mine on top of his, gently rubbing my fingertips over his fingers. His touch is so good. I didn't realize how much I've missed it.
I allow him to undress me down to my underwear, feeling strangely serene in his presence. He loves me. I know this. There's no question in my mind about it. He still loves me.
When he's done undressing me, I undress him, and it feels like I'm seeing him for the first time. He's not only the man I love, but he's also going to be the father of my child. It makes me want to cry again. A mix of sorrow and joy. Stop thinking about it, Tessa.
“Get on your hands and knees.” He gives my ass a gentle slap, urging me onto the bed. I crawl up onto it, and before I'm even in place, his diving between my legs, licking at me through my black lace panties. His mouth feels amazing on my heated pussy. I press back against him, losing myself in the moment.
He takes my underwear and flosses them between my lips, then licks me from clit to asshole. It feels strange, but not unpleasant. I watch him over my shoulder. His eyes are hooded with lust, his attention completely focused on my body.
To my surprise, he loops my panties around his index finger, makes a fist, and then pulls, ripping them off of me. I gasp at the roughness of it and almost instantly feel my clit pulse with arousal. His mouth moves to meet my sex, and he buries his face in my folds, causing me to cry out in pleasure.
“I've missed this,” he breaths into me.
I'm so consumed with sensation that I can't even muster up a response. All I can do is whimper and groan while he takes me up to the heights that only he can. His tongue is relentless, dipping into me then swirling at my core. It's a slow tease. He knows he's driving me insane.
“Anders,” I manage to squeal. As soon as I do, he goes for the goal, licking and sucking my clit until I have to grip the comforter beneath me for support as the first orgasm of the evening rips through me.
Before I've even had a chance to recover, he's crawling up onto the bed behind me. My eyes land on his unsheathed cock, and fear grips me, though I don't know why. It's not like he can impregnate me twice.
I bite my bottom lip, remembering why I came. Is it really a good idea for us to be doing this, especially when I have such a bomb to drop on him afterward? He doesn't give me time to reconsider. I feel his tip pushing past my threshold. He fills me in one smooth thrust, causing my breath to hitch. As soon as he's inside, he wraps his hands around my hips and begins bucking. My worries melt away temporarily as I'm flooded with pleasure.
“I bet you've missed my dick,” his words are raw and arrogant.
“Yes,” I confess. I have missed it. Sex was never an important part of my life until I met him.
“I love the way you moan.” He grabs my arms and pulls them back, holding me up while he pounds into me, causing my body to squeeze around him. It feels so intense.
My eyes look up at the new headboard, and I'm assaulted with the memory of tying him to the old one and leaving him there. If I hadn't done that, would I feel less damaged inside. He trusted me, and I betrayed his trust like he had betrayed mine. I hate myself for thinking about it when we're connected so intimately, but I can't help it. The sex only provides me with brief distractions of everything that's gone wrong with us. Each time my focus drifts away from his body, it lands on a painful memory.
“I want to make you come.” He picks up the pace, hammering out the delicious friction that pushes me closer to the edge.
“Oh yes.” I'm momentarily lost again as my body rockets towards another climax. My cunt contracts around him when I reach my limit, and he pulls me up against him, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my neck. Again, I feel that warmth from him, affection radiating from his body to mine. Love.
He's concentrating entirely on my pleasure. Kissing me and groping my breasts and touching me as if he'll never get the chance again. Maybe he won't. I'm so conflicted right now, I can barely stand it. This feels like make-up sex, but will he still want me when he knows I'm pregnant with his child.
He releases me from his grasp, and I go back down on all fours, casting a seductive glance over my shoulder. He gives my ass another gentle slap before he enters me again.
“Show me you want it.” He stills, signaling for me to take control. I press my hips against him, sliding his length back and forth inside of me as I rock on the bed. My thrusting is a lot harder and slower than his, but it still feels good. He's as solid as a statue, reminding me of one of those dildos you suction cup on the wall in the shower. He's completely unyielding, cemented in place for my pleasure.
Eventually, he takes the reigns again, and I'm allowed to relax. It's a lot better when he's in control. As Evelyn said, he knows how to fuck. If they gave an award for sex, he would win it, hands down.
I rest my head on the bed, sticking my ass up in the air and trying to relax as he picks up speed for the finale. I know Anders well enough to know that though he's winding up, our sexcapades are winding down. Almost on queue with my thoughts, he pulls out to release onto my back. I lay there, feeling his seed roll down my spine. Now that it's over, all I can think about is the task that lies ahead. The ball of nerves in my stomach starts to build again, and I internally panic with too many negative thoughts to count.
Anders cleans off my back and then crawls into bed beside me, urging me to lay with him. I surrender, resting my head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat. He lazily strokes my back and kisses the top of my head.
Now is the moment. If I'm going to tell him, it needs to be now. But I just can't force myself to do it.