“Why? Are you in some kind of Victorian mourning period?” Jillian asked.
“No.” Thinking about Miles had me warm all over. God, I missed him. “But Miles isn’t into me that way, anyhow.”
“What?” Jillian rolled her eyes. “Yes, he is. He’s just too stupid to know it.”
“Or he’s too scared to admit it.” Skylar shrugged. “But I agree with Jilly. I think he’s way into you and always has been, and I think he was the handsome stranger Madam Psuka was talking about.”
“Please. Not that again.” I tried another sip of wine, but it still didn’t taste right to me. “It’s not Miles. Besides, he’s moving to San Francisco anyway.” Ending any chance for us before it even began. Why did he have to be such an ass when he was so hot and sweet and funny too? It was so unfair, the feelings I had for him, the chemistry we had. It would never amount to anything more than one hot weekend when we could have been so much more.
“He is?” Skylar looked surprised. “When? He told me he wanted to come to my wedding. He can’t move to California.”
“The world doesn’t revolve around your wedding, Skylar,” I snapped harshly.
She looked annoyed. “I never said it did, Judy Moody. Sheesh. What’s with you lately?”
“I’m going through shit, OK?” I stood up and carried my glass to the sink, tossing the wine down the drain. “And you’re constantly talking about the wedding and honeymoon and gifts and seating arrangements and flowers and I’m just tired of it!” I stared into the sink, ashamed of myself.
“What the hell, Natalie?” I heard the plunk of a glass being set on the table.
“OK hold on.” Jillian came over and put a hand on my back. “You’re definitely going through shit, Nat, and it sucks, but don’t be an asshole to Skylar. She hasn’t been that bad about the wedding.”
I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry, Sky.”
“It’s OK,” she said quietly. “I should be more sensitive to the breakup.”
“No, really. I’m fine about the breakup. I’m just…” Tears welled, and a few spilled over before I even knew what was happening. “I’m just emotional lately. And tired.” So, so tired. Every morning this week it felt like my alarm went off earlier and earlier, and even naps didn’t take the edge off my fatigue. “You know what, you guys? Let’s be done with this for tonight. I’ll clean up and you guys can go do something fun with your Saturday night.”
“Are you sure you’re OK?” Jillian rubbed her hand along my spine.
“Yes.” I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. “I’m fine. And I kind of just want to be alone.”
They helped me clean up, hugged me tight, and left.
The minute I shut the door, I grabbed my phone and ran up to my room, where I curled up in bed and listened to Miles’s voicemail.
At the sound of his voice, my entire body shivered.
“Hey you. Haven’t talked to you in a while. It rained here today and it reminded me of you. Then I had to jerk off in the shower because I couldn’t stop thinking about that morning.”
I smiled as my belly fluttered. Some things would never change.
“I thought of you in the shower too, in case you were wondering. And on the couch, and in the kitchen, and in my bed…”
The smile faded as I thought about his bed and wondered if he’d had anyone in it since I left. The thought made me sick to my stomach.
“Anyway, I miss you and want to hear your voice. Give me a call if you want.”
I played the message again and again and again, missing him more each time, that ache in my chest growing stronger. That’s why you can’t call him back, I told myself. You’ll only want him more.
Setting the phone aside, I switched off my lamp and rolled on to my belly. But my breasts were sore because I was about to get my period, so I flipped over onto my back. That must be why I’ve been so moody this week. I didn’t even think about that. Maybe that’s why I’ve been tired too, although I’ve never had PMS this bad before. I bet it’s the new pill. I’d switched brands last month because I’d had too much spotting, but was this one was going to make me feel awful every month? I couldn’t win. Maybe I’d go off it altogether. Not like I had a lot of sex on the horizon anyway.
Cranky at the thought, and suddenly hot under the covers, I kicked them off and lay like a starfish, making a mental note to call the doctor next week after my period was over.
Except that it never arrived.
Ten days after Miles’s voicemail, I sat on the edge of the tub and stared at the plus signs. There were four of them because I hadn’t believed the first test could be right, nor the second or third. But the fourth…the fourth was the kicker.
I was pregnant.
By Miles Haas.
A huge wave of dizziness and nausea rushed through me, and I quickly knelt in front of the toilet until it passed. Then I sat on the cold white tiles with my hands cradling my stomach, sweaty, hot, and shaking.
OK, think. Just think. One step at a time.