Page 91 of Serving the Maestro

It was positive. Just like the first two had been.

I put it down and looked at the other boxes, all different brands, all promising near one-hundred percent accuracy.

Sagging against the bathroom wall, I closed my eyes and covered my face with my hands.

What was I supposed to do now?

I had been starting to think Trent and I had a chance together, that we could be happy together. But now...what would this do?

He’d agreed to help me get pregnant. He hadn’t said anything about hanging around to help once the pregnancy was confirmed. And with Trent's lifestyle he might never want a child.

Another sickening thought snuck out from the shadows.

What if it wasn’t Trent’s baby?

I couldn’t even guess when I’d gotten pregnant, either.

Tears burned my eyes as I gathered up the tests and wrapped them in one of the reusable cloth bags. Carrying them into the kitchen, I shoved them into the trash, adding a few more things on top, so the bag wasn’t visible.

Task done, I washed my hands and walked listlessly into the living room.

When the phone rang, I answered without looking to see who it was.

“Ah...Jazz?” Cam’s voice came out concerned. “You don’t sound like you’re living up the high life. What’s wrong, honey?”

I sniffed, the sound thin and water. “I think I’m pregnant.”

“What?” Cam demanded.

“I...my period’s over a month late. I took a test—well, four total. And they all said I’m pregnant.”

“That’s wonderful!”

I couldn’t find it in me to feel that emotion right now and hearing it from Cam made my eyes sting with tears.

“Jazz?”

“Yeah?” Dropping onto the couch, I stared at the blank screen of the TV listlessly.

“This was what you wanted,” she said gently. “What’s wrong?”

“How do I know the baby is Trent’s?”

“Oh.” Cam sighed. “I see. Well, there’s only one way to be really sure. But in all likelihood, it’s going to be his, honey. It was one night with Roger—and it wasn’t a night you even consented to, so don’t forget that. But you were with Trent for months.”

“Okay, yeah, I guess.” I didn’t quite believe it but hearing it from my incredibly level-headed friend helped. It was probably what I would have said to a friend in a similar situation.

“Are you worried he won’t want the baby?” Cam asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, the words escaping me held a world of fear.

“I’ll tell you now—I think he’ll be happy to help with the baby because it’s a part of you...and if he helps raise the baby, then, no matter what, he is the father, honey. I saw how he was with you. He loves you like crazy, and I think he’d support you in any decision you make. But there’s no denying you went through something traumatic, and you have to decide what the right choice is for you.”

“You make it sound so simple.”

“It sounds simple, sure.” Cam’s voice was gentle. “But sounding simple doesn’t mean it is simple.”

She was right.

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