I cut her off, jumping to my feet.
“I’m really grossed out by this whole thing. In fact, I’m so grossed out that I really am going to be sick.”
With that, I run to the bathroom and collapse at the base of the toilet. Bracing myself with one hand on the wall, I violently hurl, shooting out chunks of green and brown gunk in addition to a light, coffee-colored liquid. By the time I finish, my stomach’s roiling and Sansa’s hovering in the doorway behind me.
“Are you okay?” she asks sympathetically. “That looks pretty awful,” she says, trying to avoid staring directly into the toilet. I merely pant while wiping at my sweaty forehead.
“I’m fine. I’m just so revolted by everything that’s happened that it’s making me physically ill. Who wouldn’t be in these circumstances?”
But my friend looks thoughtful and chooses her next words carefully.
“Yes, it’s possible to make yourself sick with disgust or worry. But Nella, are you sure you aren’t pregnant? I mean, nausea is definitely a symptom of pregnancy.”
I pause for a moment, my stomach still queasy. My hand reaches over to cradle my tummy as I consider the possibility.
OMG, am I pregnant with Paul’s child?
Of course it’s possible. Paul and I use protection whenever we’re together, but at the same time, there were a few instances when the moment was too heated and we decided to go bare. Plus, we weren’t all back door by any means and he definitely enjoyed sliding into me straight. Come to think of it, the nausea and the weird food cravings would make sense if I were pregnant.
“Nella?” Sansa asks me again. “Did you get your period this month?” My mind races as I try to remember, and then my stomach sinks. Meeting her eyes in the mirror, I whisper, “No. And not the month before that either.”
I feel myself begin to shake. Literally, my shoulders shudder as my hands tremble. Thank god for Sansa, however, because she goes to get a sweatshirt and drapes it over my shoulders.
“Okay, it’s going to be fine, girlfriend. I want you to go into the kitchen and make yourself a cup of tea. Meanwhile, I’m going to run to the drugstore and get you a pregnancy test. I’ll be right back, okay? There’s no sense in freaking out because it could be nothing. Just pick a calming tea. A yummy chamomile or lavender should do it.” I nod and Sansa races out the door.
Once alone in the apartment, it feels like it takes a lifetime for the water in the kettle to boil. I stand there watching, my mind numb. Holy shit, this is the craziest twist to my life so far. What are the chances that I’d be having a baby with my mom’s ex-boyfriend?
But I have to keep my wits about me, so I keep myself busy getting our hot drinks ready. Not long afterwards, Sansa returns with the test.
“Are you prepared to find out?” she asks me in a serious tone.
“No,” I say in a tight voice while heading to the bathroom, paper box in hand. It feels as if every cell in my body is vibrating as I tear open the packet and pee on the indicator.
Several minutes later, I return to the living room with tears streaming down my face. Sansa rushes across the room and takes my hands into her own.
“What is it Nella?” she asks, clearly worried.
“I’m pregnant,” I say in a low voice. “I’m going to have my mom’s ex’s baby.”
Sansa shakes her head.
“Oh sweetie, it’s going to be okay. Maybe this happened for a reason. I mean, it’s so twisted that there has to be some divine justification for it, right? Do you think you should talk to Paul?”
When she sees the horrified expression on my face, Sansa merely squeezes my hands. “Or not. Whatever you decide, you’ll be fine because I know you’ll be a great mom, Nella.”
I take a shuddering breath as tears continue to course down my cheeks.
“You read me right, Sans, because I definitely want to keep the baby. Is that weird?”
My friend merely shakes her head.
“It’s not weird. You and Paul made this baby together when you were in love. You’ll be a wonderful parent, Nella, even if you end up as a single mom.”
With that, I just cry harder as my heart breaks because the truth is that I’d love to have Paul’s baby. I’d love to have a piece of him growing under my heart, but these were never the circumstances I imagined. I thought we’d get married and I’d have a ring on my finger before getting pregnant. But life throws you curveballs, and now, my future has taken an unexpected turn.
8
Nella
I’m sprawled out on the floor of my apartment with a dozen sketches scattered around me. I’m trying to create a drawing that perfectly encapsulates the image my clients want to portray, but so far, every attempt has felt just a little bit off. A graphite pencil spins in between the thumb and forefinger of my left hand, and my head bobs to the left and then to the right as I study each of my previous attempts.