“Yeah, I don’t feel too good,” he confessed. “I better get home and get ready for tomorrow.”
I pulled out of his tight embrace. My eyes lingered on his that were only filled with sadness, and I decided not to push him. He didn’t need me adding pressure to him right now.
“Go. Finish listening to the game and get some rest,” I said as cheerfully as I could.
He seemed to calm a bit at the lifted pressure. He nodded and gave me a soft kiss on the lips. “Thanks again for being there for me.” He kissed me again, soft and lingering, then turned and walked out the door. And maybe my life.
My stomach churned and nausea bubbled in my throat, so I laid down and turned the TV to the sports channel. The Beasts were up 6-2. Not bad boys!
I pulled my phone from my purse and sent Whitney a text.
Me: You at the game?
Whitney: Yes, boys are doing great!
Me: I see that!
Whitney: You home?
Me: Yes. Just walked in. It was a sad trip. We NEED to talk when you get home.
Whitney: Ugh, okay.
She already knew what I wanted to talk about, she had to. She knew me better than I knew myself, so yeah, she had to know.
I scrolled through all the missed calls from Jack and reread the texts he’d sent while I was gone. I should’ve never let him come over here. Or get into my bed. This was a mess. He was obviously much more into me than I was him. I needed to be honest with him. I just couldn’t open my heart to anyone else right now.
My stomach churned, and I placed my hand on it, wondering what else besides indigestion lay under it.
My period was late by a couple days. Okay, I was late by almost a week. I’d been sick, but not just in the morning. Maybe it was just stress, and my paranoia was getting the better of me. I hope so.
Whitney wasn’t much help when she got home. She rolled her eyes when I told her about my night with Ace. I tried my best to explain the change, the difference. I even told her about Jack, and how awkward I’d felt with him.
“You just don’t want to give Jack a chance.”
She was right. I was still hung up on Ace. That was obvious.
“He was fuckin’ high Holly, at his dad’s funeral no less!”
I’d told her about his odd behavior, which actually wasn’t so off in hindsight.
“He looked more sick than high,” I argued.
“Maybe he was just coming down from it. People get sick when they withdraw.” She was unwilling to give Ace any benefit of doubt at this point.
But he’d been with me, in bed, holding me. When would he have had time to get high? I didn’t want to believe it, to believe her. I wanted to believe that he really did love me. That he really did want me… more than he wanted drugs.
***
The days passed slowly, but I stayed busy working on wedding details and perfecting the roses I’d use on her wedding cake. It was good that I was busy, but the stress was making me sick.
I’d reached for my phone a thousand times, wanting to call Ace, but always forcing myself to stop. I couldn’t push him. Just because we loved each other didn’t mean we could be together. I knew I couldn’t push him.
When another week had passed and I still hadn’t heard from him, I stopped crying. Stopped wishing. Stopped hoping. What I didn’t stop was throwing up several times a day. But I couldn’t face the truth of what I suspected. Too bad ignorance really wasn’t bliss.
Oh my God, it’s beautiful,” Whitney said as she came crashing into my kitchen, tossing some bags on the table. I’d been working on a new technique while listening to the game. I had to listen, not watch. It was too hard watching Ace on the screen. He was doing well. Really well. In fact, the Beasts were rocking this season and sitting at the top of the league.
“You really love it?” I asked, turning the cake around to see it from every direction.
“It’s gorgeous. These flowers look so real.” She leaned down to smell them and got icing on her nose.
Tossing her a towel to wipe it off, I said, “Aren’t you all going out to celebrate the win?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Calvin is for a little while, but my head was pounding, so I decided to just come home.”
I felt her forehead. She wasn’t hot, but she was a little pale. “Have you taken anything?”
“Yeah, for my sinuses.” She pressed her fingertips to her cheekbones. “Tis the season.”
I fake sneezed. “Yep. Pollen is a killer.”
My phone vibrated, and I snatched it from the table, then sighed and set it back down.
“Not Ace?” Whitney asked.
I shook my head. “Jack.”
Whitney blew out a breath but didn’t say anything more. She knew I wasn’t ready for anything with him. I’d been honest with him after getting back from the funeral, but that hadn’t stopped him from checking in on me. He really was a nice guy.
“Here, I brought Chinese,” she said, grabbing one of the bags she’d tossed on the table. She opened it up and started setting out the little white cartons. My mouth watered when she revealed some of my favorites. Then the smell hit me…
Shit!
Jumping up, I ran to the bathroom and tossed what little was in my stomach into the toilet. Whitney was right behind me, her hands holding my hair from my face.
“Are you pregnant?” she asked, saying the word I’d refused to say myself.
I wiped my mouth and face with the wet cloth she handed me, then rested against the tub while she sat down in the velvet vanity chair.
“I’m not sure.”
She sighed and pushed my hair back from my face. “How late are you?”
“Two weeks,” I admitted in a small voice, ashamed of myself for not facing the truth.
“Did you forget to use a condom?” she asked softly and I was thankful she wasn’t in full interrogation mode. I could see the sympathy in her eyes. The worry. The love.
“No, we used them every time, but…”
She stroked my hair. “But what?”
“But after our first time together in Florida, there was a tear. It wasn’t big, so I convinced myself that…”
“You need to see a doctor. You need a pregnancy test and a full STD screening.”
I shook my head. “Ace got tested, he’s clean.”
Whitney snorted. “That’s unfuckingbelievable.”
I lifted a shoulder. “He’s a condom fanatic. He said that no kid would want him for a father.”
Whitney’s face softened. “That’s terrible. Holly, if you are pregnant, what are you going to do?”
I knew what she was asking me. Keep it? Abort it? Give it away?
I placed my hand over my belly and tears pricked the back of my eyes. The timing would be terrible. The circumstances even worse. But if a little Ace was growing inside me, I would love and care for it like no baby had ever been loved or cared for.
Just like that, I was on the floor, sobbing. Whitney was on the floor, sobbing too. We held onto each other like best friends do.
My butt was numb from the hard tile by the time I pulled myself together enough to stand on shaky legs. Whitney looked just as shaky as me.
“I’m going to the pharmacy to buy some tests,” she said firmly, then held up a finger when I tried to protest. “I’ll be right back.”