Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
I glance around at the single banner taped to the wall announcing my thirtieth birthday, and at the handful of helium balloons on the tables. Harrison would have gone all out, for sure. My mind quickly flips back to my twenty-fifth birthday, where he had streamers falling from the ceiling and more balloons than a party supply store. The cake had two tiers and the spread of food catered from my favorite Mexican restaurant. We celebrated my birthday hard that night, rocking it until the wee hours of the morning, before he took me home and made love to me in our bed. Everything changed a week later when he met with his boss. Nothing has been the same since.
My stomach lurches again, and I quickly deposit my plate down on the nearest table.
“Are you okay? You’re looking a little… green,” Gabby says, worry filling her eyes.
“Yeah, it’s this stupid flu bug. One of my students shared it with me, and I can’t seem to kick it.”
My head starts to heat and my hands become clammy. I know what’s about to happen. I take off for the bathroom, throwing open the door, and barely making it to the toilet before my body purges what little food I ate earlier in the day.
“Geez, Gwenny!” my sister bellows as she enters the bathroom and pushes on the stall door. She rushes over to the sink and grabs a paper towel to wet. The dry heaves subside and a mixture of relief and fatigue rushes through my body. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re knocked up.”
I know she’s joking, but her words strike me like a lightning bolt straight to the heart. Gasping for air, memories flood my mind—memories of Harrison and me. Together.
“…and that can’t be because you’d have to have sex in order to get pregnant, and we both know that’s not happening,” she continues with a laugh.
Sex.
Oh, God!
We had sex!
Unprotected sex!
Gabby returns to the stall and sets the wet paper cloth over my forehead. My mind is still reeling with realization and shock as she continues to talk about the different flu strands going around her office, but I already know.
I don’t have the flu.
When I begin to lose feeling in my legs from crouching beside the toilet, I start to stand. Gabby’s right there to help me. “You should go home,” she says, placing her hand on my forehead. “You don’t have a fever, but I don’t think you should stay and risk getting everyone sick.”
“You’re right,” I mumble, my mind swimming with uncertainty as she wraps her arm around my shoulder and guides me to the bathroom door.
“I’ll make regrets for you to everyone, and when I get them cleared out, I’ll come over,” she says.
“No, don’t do that. I’m just going to head home and rest. You don’t need to come over just to watch me sleep.” Lie. I’m not headed home, at least not yet. I’ll be making a trip to the drug store first to buy a pregnancy test.
Then what?
What if it’s actually positive?
Harrison flashes through my mind.
Oh, God, I’m going to have to tell him, and say what? Hey, Harrison, remember me, your ex-wife? The one you slept with mere minutes after our divorce was final? Well, good news, I’m pregnant.
My stomach recoils, but I don’t think it’s pregnancy-related sickness. It’s stress from having to tell my ex-husband that I’m pregnant with his baby. How did this happen? Well, I know how this happened, but how did this become my life? I’m like a walking episode of The Young and the Restless. What are my preschool parents going to think of me?
Gabby guides me down the hallway and to the table where we’ve stashed my purse. As if on autopilot, I smile politely while retrieving my belongings and make my way to the exit.
“Honey, are you all right?” Mom asks, coming up behind us with a look of worry on her face.
“Yeah, just a touch of the flu,” I answer, the lie rolling too easily off my tongue.
“Oh, no. Well, feel better. If you’re not well tomorrow, text me, and I’ll bring you some soup,” she replies, pulling me into her arms and giving me a warm hug.
“I will. Please give my regards to everyone. I really appreciate you all throwing me this party,” I add.
“It was nothing,” Mom says with the flick of her hand before setting it on my forehead. “It’s not every day your oldest turns thirty.”
“No, I guess not.”
“Do you want Dad to drive you home?” she offers, glancing over at Gabby.
“No, that’s okay. I can drive. My stomach isn’t too bad now, so I think I can make it home.”
She continues to look on with that motherly watchful eye, and I almost crack under the pressure. She knows I’m lying, but, if I am pregnant, I don’t want to tell them first. Harrison deserves to know before my family, which is why I continue the flu charade for just a little longer. “Well, if you’re sure… I’ll stop by tomorrow and check on you.”