“I can’t. If I am—” she broke off into a sob, burying her face into her hands.
“Then you’ll deal with it,” I said soothingly. “Let me go and get you a test. Harley, stay with her, please.”
He looked horrified as I forced a reassuring smile.
“Just sit with her!”
He sank into the seat beside her, awkwardly exhaling when she fell into his arms sobbing.
“I’ll be right back,” I mumbled, heading down the street to the nearest supermarket.
It was only a fifteen-minute walk, and I prayed there would be no one there when I bought it. But, knowing my luck, my mother would be passing by for milk, and she would hyperventilate and die on the spot. Or kill me.
In my heart of hearts, I knew that the baby she was carrying was probably Arden’s. That explained why shewanted to speak to him today, and I realised how much it must’ve hurt her to see him chasing me down the corridor. I could only hope she didn’t hear his offer of monogamy.
I entered the supermarket, breathless and ruddy-cheeked, thanks to the brisk walk. I made my way to the small medical aisle and scanned the shelves. Ironically, the pregnancy tests were right beside condoms, almost like a joke; if you don’t buy me, you’ll be buying that—and so on. There were two different pregnancy tests, and I picked one up, scrutinising it, like even touching it could make pregnancy contagious.
I felt sick for Kate, knowing that this was precisely the situation my mother had been in. It must be terrifying, especially when the guy in question wasn’t overly interested in you.
I couldn’t understand it. Ardenalwaysused condoms. Maybe at my insistence but—
“Jain?”
I spun around, the test hidden behind my back, when I heard the voice. There was no mistaking the husky tones, but more than anything, I could hear the disappointment that weighed heavily there.
“Mr Sil—Sir—”
He stared at me before holding out his hand.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“It’s not mine,” I babbled, turning around to make sure no one was around.
He looked pained for a moment as he closed his eyes.
“I said if you needed to talk—”
“Sir, it’s not mine. I’m not juvenile, and I wouldn’t be ashamed of being pregnant. I think it’s a wonderful thing, although yes, eighteen is young, you could always pick up study later on in life—”
He raised his eyebrows as he let me finish.
“What? It’s not mine,” I protested as he nodded.
“Right. So, this friend? Did she have casual, er, relations, or is she in a committed relationship? Does she have any support or—”
“Sir, just don’t ask,” I whispered, and he stepped towards me.
“Jain, if this is you, let me help you.”
“It’s not. I’ve got to get this for her, though. She needs me.”
He studied me before I noticed the basket in his hand—two bottles of red wine, flowers, and chocolates.
“Romantic evening?” I said, nodding at the contents, his eyes holding me prisoner in his gaze.
“Something like that.”
“Oh,” I whispered as he leaned forward, close to my ear.
