Page 81 of Surrender

Rather than watch her walk away in a room full of my family members, I use the bathroom while it’s free. After relieving myself, I stop in front of the mirror to brush my hair back. The top is getting a little long. I could use a trip to the barber.

I flick on the water and drop my gaze to locate the soap. It’s not soap I find pushed back into the corner of the countertop.

It’s a pregnancy test.

From the opening in the foil wrapper, I can just make out the word digitally scribed on the screen.

Pregnant.

My gaze darts to the mirror before returning to the test. Whitney was the last person in here. I know it because I had a view of the hall for the three minutes we talked before I handed over her kids.

Immediately, I start to count backward. It’s been two weeks since we hooked up. Is that enough time for a person to show up pregnant? Cortney explained pregnancy math to me once when she first found out she was expecting Oliver, but that feels like a million years ago as I stare at the blue stick in front of me.

I whip out my phone and googlehow soon after sex can you take a pregnancy test. Answers vary, but the general consensus is that the longer someone waits, the more accurate their results are, but article after article mentions a two-week rule.

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since we...

I blow out a harsh breath and pocket my phone. I grip the edge of the counter and sort through the facts.

We used a condom every time.

For penetration.

There was the first time when she nestled her sweet pussy over my cock and rode my lap until she came. But I wasn’t inside of her then. All the warnings about precum swirl inside my head.

Could she be pregnant from someone else before she arrived in town?

The mere thought twists my guts. I find it highly unlikely. She doesn’t seem the type to leave a trail of one-night stands behind her. Not with how needy she was for me. How beautiful and desperate she was to feel my hands. For me to make her feel good.

The test might not even be hers. But there aren’t a whole lot of other women here who the life-changing stick could belong to.

She rushed in and went straight into the bathroom. The idea seems possible, likely even, that she picked up the test and wanted an answer so she didn’t have to take it in my home where I might find the results.

Ironic, considering my current position.

The signs point in one direction, and that direction says it’s very possible I might have knocked her up.

The air leaves my lungs like I took a well-aimed punch.

Me. A father.

What the fuck do I know about that title? My own father was an unending source of pain. I have emotional scars that match the ones along Jude’s back.

A tremor starts in my hands. It’s subtle enough to hide. I wait for other effects from that thought. Nausea, maybe, or a desperate feeling to climb into my car and drive out of town.

I wait and stare at myself in the mirror. At the flush on my cheeks and the glassy look in my eyes, I realize it’s not coming. The fear isn’t there.

I’m... fine.

I feel nervous, almost delirious with the possibility. But I don’t feel like I need to run.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

I clear away the test with a few paper towels to protect my hands. The last thing I want is for another member of my family to stumble on the stick and raise questions. I wash my hands and stare unseeing into the mirror.

Do I bring it up to her? How would that even go? Oh, hey, I found your pregnancy test in the bathroom at my mom’s Christmas party. I know we just had sex a few times, but I’d like to explore this with you. I shake my head. That wouldn’t work. It’s almost as bad as asking her outright. Are you, by chance, pregnant?

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