Page 73 of I Choose You

Voices mumble outside my bedroom door. They’re on the quieter side, so I can’t make out a word they’re saying, but I know there’s a female and male speaking. They go back and forth before footsteps move down the hallway. My door creaks open a second later, but I can’t lift an eyelid, my body still so worn out from the stress of this past week.

There’s a crinkling of plastic, then a snap. Lightly, a hand rests on my forehead. Luke’s voice is gentle as he brushes my hair out of my face. “If you’re awake and can hear me, there’s an open water bottle on your nightstand.” His voice is soft and gentle. “Drink when you’re up to it.”

His footsteps stop at the door, then he’s gone, shutting my door behind him.

Sunlight doesn’t bristle in through my window, and I take notice of it. It’s dark. Dusk skulks in, darkening my room, but somehow my nightstand light is on. It casts a shadow over my bedroom, and I nearly jump out of bed when I notice Nelly sitting on the other side of it.

“Jeez!” My hand flies to my chest. She glances over, flipping through a magazine. “Why are you here?”

She tosses the magazine on my nightstand. It smacks the wood. “Luke called.”

What?

Why would Luke call Nelly?

I blink and remember him being in here earlier. Looking over, I notice the water bottle he left. I reach for it, only to find I’m thirstier than I think. I wipe my lips with the back of my hand after drinking nearly all of it. “Why?”

“I know you haven’t been feeling well this past week, but I wasn’t aware that you’ve been sleeping so much. It’s eight in the evening, Mackenzie.” Her eyebrows knit together. “You’ve missed a few days of work. That’s why Luke called me.”

I shake my head and sit up. My head is a little dizzy, but I feel a lot better than earlier in the day. “I’m fine. I think I’m just still getting over the flu. I had my period on top of it.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes.” My face scrunches in confusion as I think back on my cycle. My period started a day or two before the flu came over me. At least, I think that’s when it did. It lasted about three days. I bring the rim of the water bottle to my lips but stop short, understanding how off that sounds.

She tilts her head to the side and focuses on my change of expression—the sporadic blinking and noticeable swallowing. Her voice is more delicate than it usually is, the obnoxious hint in her tone nowhere to be found. The Nelly that’s sitting next to me is dialing it back because she, too, is worried. “What is it?”

I lower the water bottle, my throat drying up like the hottest desert in Chile. How many years has it gone without rain? Four hundred? Because that’s how I feel currently. My eyes move to hers. “My periods last six, seven days. Mine lasted three.”

And now that I think about it, it was light. Too light. I don’t have a heavy cycle, it’s average, but I didn’t put on more than a panty liner the entire three days.

She swallows, and I recall the last few weeks, of all the times Mason and I have been intimate. Each instance floats in my mind until I pick out the specific moment where he rolled on a condom. I only come up short one time. One occurrence I cannot get out of my head.

Nelly’s gaze makes my skin tingle, though not in a good way. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking? If so, it would make sense.”

Suddenly, my hands grow sweaty. Another wave of sickness washes over me. “No, it’s not possible.” I look around the room, my mind working overtime. One time. We had sex without protection one time, and even then, he pulled out. There is no way he could have gotten me…Is it even possible to conceive if a man pulls out? What is the likelihood? Anxiety bubbles in me like a pot of boiling water. My white bubbly panic is about to burst over the edge.

I don’t know how to get a handle on it.

Nelly reaches out to touch my arm. “Hey. Don’t panic. Let’s work through the symptoms and how long you’ve been experiencing them.”

I nod, but all I can think about is the possibility that I’m carrying Mason’s child, and he’s long gone. Emotion builds in my eyes, making them burn, but I’m too worked up for a single tear to fall. Agony weighs down my heart and every limb, making it hard for me to move and breathe.

Nelly opens the browser on her phone, typing in early pregnancy symptoms as I sit next to her, completely powerless and petrified. It comes on stronger each time Nelly asks if I have a specific symptom.

Light bleeding? Check.

Breast tenderness and swelling? You betcha.

Extreme fatigue? Double check.

Nausea and vomiting? Tears collect, and this time, they make their descent.

Dizziness? Headaches? Darkened areolas? I pull my shirt away from my body and look down to check. I didn’t notice them before, but yep, they’re a solid shade darker than they should be. My hands swipe at my face, and then I break out in loud, gut-wrenching sobs. I bring in breaths, barely, and push them out faster than my lungs like. My chest tightens. Snot drips out of my nose. My eyes sting as my face transforms into Niagara freaking Falls.

At a certain point, Nelly moves closer and wraps her arms around me. She soothes and shushes me. I’m so thankful for her gentle nature right now. In all the years we’ve been friends, I’ve never seen her so…thoughtful. It makes my heart ache in appreciation and sadness. I cry so much that we could dig out the backyard and make a pond.

I don’t know how long Nelly holds me, but she does, and it’s all that matters. She brushes her hand over my hair when strands fall into my face. She squeezes my sides when the sobs pick up in pace. My body trembles, and eventually, the fatigue that I slept away all day returns.

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