“You knew?” my dad asks, his question directed at Marco.
“It wasn’t our place to say,” Marco says. “It was Micaela’s decision and whether we agreed with it or not, we had to respect it.”
“Please,” Micaela says softly, her eyes bloodshot, and her cheeks tearstained. “Let me explain.”
Micaela
Seven Months Ago
“Yep, you’re pregnant,” Lexi says as I flush the toilet after throwing up for the third time. She turns her phone around so I can view the screen. “Throwing up, sore breasts, no period. All signs point to you being knocked up.”
I rinse my mouth out with mouthwash then wash my hands. “It could be food poisoning,” I say, completely in denial.
“Or the flu,” Georgia adds.
Lexi scoffs. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go.” Lexi swipes her keys off the dresser.
“Where to?” I ask.
“The store to get a test,” she says over her shoulder, already walking out the door.
The three of us jump into her jeep and she heads to the store. The entire way my heart thumps against my ribcage as I continue to pretend Lexi is crazy. There’s no way I’m pregnant. We only had sex a couple times. Mentally, I roll my eyes, knowing that’s all it takes.
“You coming in?” she asks when she pulls into the parking spot in front of the drug store.
“No, you go.” I pull my credit card out of my back pocket, but she waves me off.
“Save it, you’ll need all the money you can get when you have this baby.”
“Lex,” Georgia groans.
“What? It’s the truth.” She shrugs. “And I call dibs on throwing the baby shower.”
A few minutes later she gets back in the car and drops the bag into my lap. “I bought a few just in case. Did you know the tests are on the same aisle as the condoms and tampons?” She cackles, and Georgia smacks her arm, glaring. “What?” she says, exasperated. “It’s pretty damn ironic. You’re going to that aisle for something. If not to get condoms, then to get a pregnancy test. It’s like a reminder every time you go to grab condoms. If you don’t use these, you’ll end up buying those.”
If what she was saying wasn’t so damn true, I would be laughing right along with her. But the fact is, Ryan and I didn’t use protection. He pulled out every time, but everyone knows that isn’t foolproof.
We get back to her house and I take all three tests. All of them saying the same damn thing: PREGNANT
I’m freaking pregnant.
Lexi was right. All the signs pointed to my being pregnant, but I didn’t want to admit it. Now, I have no choice.
“Are you okay?” Lexi asks, her voice unusually serious.
“No, I need to go.”
“Go where?” Georgia asks, concerned.
“Home. I need my mom.” I’m every bit aware I sound like a child when I say this, but I don’t care. I need her now. I need to tell her what I’ve done. What’s to come. I need her to hold me and tell me it’s going to be okay. She had me when she was close to my age, so she’ll understand.
“I’m not sure you’re okay to drive,” Lexi points out.
“I’m pregnant, not handicapped.”
“And in shock,” Georgia says.
“I’ll be okay.” I throw my clothes into my luggage. I came to visit for the weekend, needing to get away after Ryan had called and asked if I would visit him. I almost said yes, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t allow myself to fall for a man whose job involves risking his life. Not again.
Four hours later I arrive home, and the second I stumble through the door and find my mom, I throw myself into her arms, letting the tears come.
“Micaela, what’s wrong?” she coos, sitting us on the couch and holding me in her arms.
“I messed up,” I say through a hiccup. “I’m pregnant.”
She stills momentarily, but then rocks me in her arms, allowing me to cry without asking any questions. “Everything is going to change,” I say through a sob. “All the plans I made…”
She pats her lap and I lay my head down on it, curling up into a ball. She runs her fingers through the strands of my hair, calming me down as I cry into her lap. “Shh, it’s okay, sweet girl, everything is going to be okay.”
When I finally get a hold of myself enough to talk, I sit up and she wipes my tears, giving me a soft smile.
“I didn’t know you’ve been with anyone,” she says, her voice hurt but not judgmental. My mom and I are close and I usually tell her everything.
“Only one guy,” I admit. “When I was away…” She nods. “As you know I went to the beach house, and when I got there, Ryan was there.”
Her eyes widen briefly. “Ryan…”
“Cruz.” I sniffle. “Dad had given him the key so he could spend some time there before being shipped off to Afghanistan.”