I want to wipe it away, make it all better, but I can’t, and that hurts me more than all of this.
I cup her cheeks in my hands. She looks so small and fragile, like if I squeeze too tight she’ll break in half.
“What’s wrong with me?” she asks, her lower lip trembling as she struggles to hold back tears.
“Nothing’s wrong with you.”
“Something must be,” she cries.
I press my lips together and blurt, “Maybe it’s me with the problem.”
Her brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
I shrug, voicing my thoughts out lout. “You had a kid—I, on the other hand, haven’t, so I could be the problem.”
She shakes her head. “No.”
I let my hands fall from her face. “I could be,” I repeat. “I should probably get tested to be sure.”
I don’t say it out loud, but I can’t continue to watch her go through this month after month. The disappointment is eating away at her. I hate myself for telling her I wanted to have a baby. If I’d never brought it up we wouldn’t be going through this right now. Things would be good—normal.
Her lips pinch tight and, after a moment, she nods. “I’ll get tested too. Something could’ve changed between the time I was sixteen and now.”
I run my fingers through her hair, curling a soft strand around my finger.
We stare at each other, silence filling the space between us.
We’re both scared, that much is obvious.
I won’t lie, I thought t
his would be easy.
Toss the condoms and BOOM pregnant.
I think I’m being mocked for my naivety. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Or maybe I’m being taught a lesson—not everything is guaranteed to you, even if you think it’s a basic right.
“Let’s go on that vacation we talked about months ago.”
I want to distract her and rid her of this pitiful look in her eyes.
“Are you crazy?” she looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“We need it now more than ever.”
She looks away, and I can tell she’s pondering it.
“Fine, I’ll go, but only if we get checked out first. I don’t want it hanging over my head.”
“Deal,” I agree.
“Also, you have to pick where we’re going and plan it. I don’t have the brain power to help right now,” she warns.
“I can do that,” I agree, though I don’t know if I actually can. Hopefully, I can pull this off. We needed this vacation months ago, but after the first negative pregnancy test I didn’t feel like bringing it up again, and since she didn’t that cemented me keeping my mouth shut. When the negative pregnancy tests continued to pile up it became harder and harder to say something, until now. I can’t look into her sad eyes for another moment, not when I might be able to change it.
Nova presses up on her toes and kisses me before skirting past me and out of the bathroom.