A sob hitched in my chest. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“You don’t know for sure. Let’s get a test. It’ll be okay.”
“Please.”
She smiled sympathetically and pulled out her phone, tapped the screen, then put it away.
“We’ll have it in an hour. Until then, tell me about where you’re from. I’ve always wanted to visit Australia.”
When I couldn’t get the words out, she chatted away, telling me all about how she’d never been outside of North America. She asked about kangaroos and koalas, whether the snakes and spiders really were deadly, whether I’d seen crocodiles and sharks in the wild, and how close the Great Barrier Reef was to Uluru and Sydney Opera House.
Within what felt like only minutes, Trav walked out and handed Kamirah the package.
“This just came for you,” he said. His brow furrowed when he took in how we were lying, our heads close while I was still holding Kamirah’s hands in a white-knuckled grip. “Y’all okay?”
“Just dandy, honey,” Kamirah said, her dismissal clear.
He hovered, and I plastered on a smile that I was sure looked as fake as it felt. This was it. This was the moment when my life was either going to be turned upside down or I was going to celebrate modern medicine performing a miracle. I loved kids, I loved babies, but I couldn’t have another one. Not now, not in the States, and definitely not while fake married to my temporary husband.
Trav finally left after our reassurances, and Kamirah ripped open the package.
“Go pee on the stick,” she instructed as she handed me the box, then gestured to the pool house. “Is there a bathroom in there?”
I nodded, and she helped me up. I was wobbly on my feet, still lightheaded and tingly, so she guided me inside and opened the bathroom door for me.
She came inside, pulled out the stick, did a quick read of the instructions, and said, “You literally pee on the stick. I’ll come back when you’ve cleaned up, and we’ll wait together, okay?”
I couldn’t do anything but nod. My hands shook as I took the test from her.
She hugged me hard. “Whatever the test result is, I’ll help you. You aren’t alone.”
“Thank you,” I rasped, my voice sounding like I hadn’t used it in a decade.
Peeing on the stick should have been easy, but I was shaking so hard, I nearly missed. I put it down and closed my eyes, then exhaled and tried to pull myself together. I’d done this before. I’d had a baby when it was the least opportune time. I’d been seventeen when I found out, not even out of high school, and I’d survived. Cara was thriving. She was a beautiful soul, kind and caring. She was smart and genuine. I’d raised her. If I had to, I’d do it again.
I had options now, too, though. I wouldn’t need my parents’ consent to terminate the pregnancy. I just needed to be able to get to a clinic.
I cleaned up and opened the door.
Kamirah ducked inside and rested her hands on my shoulders. “You’ve got this, honey. Whatever the outcome is, we’ll get through it.”
“Why?” I asked, unsure of where the question even came from. I was grateful that she was being so caring and felt guilty that I’d initially doubted her. “I mean—”
“Because no one was there for me when TMZ broke their story. I’ve been going through it alone. Chris had Mironov—his teammate—and Jacques, Hux had his new partners, but I was alone. You’re the first person I’ve been able to talk to about it, and I don’t want you to go through something without support, especially if you aren’t sure whether Jacques would be happy.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, tears spilling from my eyes. “This wasn’t the plan.”
“For what it’s worth, I think Jacques would be very happy.”
I shook my head. “I promised them I’m on birth control.”
Kamirah rubbed my arms. “Everyone knows birth control isn’t one hundred percent effective.”
More tears spilled from my eyes, and I wiped them away with the heel of my hand. My voice wobbled when I asked the question I feared the most. “What if everyone thinks I did it to trap him?”
“Then they’re jerks.”
I looked over my shoulder and inhaled sharply.
