I knew Don long before he met Isaac five or six years ago, and the three of us were super close. For as much wine as the three of us had consumed, those two just didn’t quit.ĭonovan and Isaac had been good friends of mine for ages.
Hell, I’d barely had any sex at all in the last few years, and in the six weeks and four days that I’d been officially divorced, I’d only done so once. I groaned and rubbed my forehead with the heels of my hands. What I wasn’t so sure about was who the father was. Whatever the case, I had been pregnant for six weeks and four days. Eight weeks if I went by the weird school of thought where the clock started two weeks before actual conception. I was exactly six weeks and four days pregnant. It didn’t take any mental calculations to figure out when this had happened. So much for blaming my mom’s cooking, even if I had gone to my parents’ house for dinner a few times. And every day this week and the better part of last week. Taking long, deep breaths, I tried to keep the nausea at bay. I closed my eyes and exhaled, pretending that single word wasn’t emblazoned across the insides of my eyelids. But no, ever the practical one, I’d gone for the brand with the clearest, least mistakable result, so there could be absolutely no doubt, and that was exactly what I’d gotten. A few minutes, maybe even a few seconds, to let it sink in slowly. Holding on to the bathroom counter for dear life and staring at that single word, I could have gone for some ambiguity or uncertainty. In a half-inch-long window, in bold black print on a deceptively bland gray background, eight tiny letters offered no ambiguity or uncertainty. No “is it really two lines?” No “I’m just seeing double, that’s all.” Not with this little bastard. There was no “well, maybe that line isn’t really there”. These digital tests didn’t leave any room for denial.
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