It’s been about four days since we’ve spoken; she doesn’t know about the test I’m about to do. I haven’t told anyone. “I’m a fucking mess, to be honest. My chest feels like it might explode with all the anxiety in there. I’m not sleeping well because I can’t get comfortable now that I’m the size of a hippo. And I’m all over the place with my moods, but mostly I just feel like I wanna cry all the time.”
“Jesus, yeah, King has no idea what real raging hormones are. I’m sorry you have to go through all this. Is Winter home?”
“No, he’s gone out for a run, which is a good thing.” I bite my lip, deciding whether to tell her about the test.
“Why?”
“Because I want to take a pregnancy test and I know he won’t want me to,” I blurt, unable to keep it to myself any longer. At the same time the words leave my mouth, my gaze meets Winter’s in the bathroom mirror. Fuck. I thought he’d already left for his run. “Umm, Lil, I have to go, sorry.”
“Okay, but we need to discuss this more when you’re free. Call me back.”
Oh, I don’t think there will be any test to discuss now. Not if the angry look Winter’s giving me is anything to go by.
“You weren’t going to tell me?” he says tightly when I place the phone down on the vanity and turn to him.
“No, because I knew you’d react this way.”
“Because it’s the wrong thing to do.” He slaps that down between us, his features wild.
I don’t know if it’s the way he’s speaking to me, all “I’m right, you’re wrong,” or if it’s the hormones surging through me, or if I’m just pissed off because it’s my body so I should get to choose this one thing to do with it—especially after practically donating it for IVF use for the last six weeks—but I suddenly want to fight him over this.
“Why is it the wrong thing to do?” I demand.
His nostrils flare. “You heard the doctor. Your body is filled with fertility hormones that could give you the wrong result. You don’t need false hope right now.”
“So what you’re saying is you don’t think I’m pregnant.”
“That’s not what I’m saying and you know it.”
“Well, I’m keeping faith that we are pregnant, so I don’t see how doing this test could be wrong.”
“Fuck.” He works his jaw. “I’m not the bad guy here, Birdie.”
“And neither am I even though you’re making me feel like I am.”
“That’s not my intent.”
“It’s my body, Winter.”
“Yeah, and it’s me who has to deal with the fallout whenever you crash. And I guarantee you the crash will be greater if you go in there on Monday expecting the world because this test told you to, and getting anything but the fucking world.”
I stare at him, hating the words out of his mouth. “You really don’t think we’re pregnant, do you? Be honest with me.”
“Jesus Christ, that’s not what I’m saying. Don’t twist my words. I’m trying to get you to see—”
I push past him and leave the bathroom, not wanting to hear any more of what he has to say. Tears prick my eyes and I let them fall. I want to curl into a ball, cry my heart out, and forget everything. Everything we’ve just said. Everything we’ve had to go through to get to this point. Everything that might go wrong on Monday.
Winter has other ideas, though. He comes after me, grabbing my arm and spinning me around to face him. “Don’t walk off on me when I’m talking to you.”
I madly wipe my eyes but the tears keep coming. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore and I can’t stand here and listen to you saying the thing that scares me the most about Monday. I don’t want to see anything you want me to see. All I want to do is keep believing there’s a baby inside me.”
“Fuck,” he says, his eyes softening as he pulls me into
his arms. “This is hard, angel. I know.”
I bury my face in his chest and let all my tears out.
I don’t know why I thought doing that test was a good idea. He’s right about it, which pisses me off because he’s always bloody right. When I finish crying, I lift my head and meet his gaze. “You suck.” At his arched brows, I explain, “You’re always right. For once, I’d like to be right about something.”