Page 102 of Body Shot

I’ve been spending so much time at the office, I’ve been eating out more, which isn’t as healthy as I normally eat.

All of these things could be factors, and I try to breathe as I wait for the results.

This is excruciating.

A million thoughts run through my head as I wait. I wash my hands twice and look at the timer on my phone.

Another twenty seconds to go.

There is no way in hell I can have a baby.

But what if there is a baby?

Could I terminate a pregnancy when it’s Anders’ baby? I’m trying not to get ahead of myself, but fear is making me a little irrational. Other than the death of someone I care about, this is the worst possible thing that could happen to me. And my gut tells me my fear is warranted.

My period is never late.

Never.

My funny tummy has lasted a week, which is more than any type of stomach flu should last.

I take a shaky breath and look down at the test.

No-no-no.

Tears sting my eyelids.

It’s fucking positive.

Two pink lines.

Positive-as-fuck.

No, please, no.

I cover my mouth with my hand and fight back a bout of tears.

This is bad.

So, so bad.

Anders is going to freak right out.

I’m freaking out.

I can’t breathe.

I need air.

I wrap the test in multiple layers of paper towels and toss it in the garbage before grabbing my things and hurrying to Randy’s office.

“Hey.” I’m breathless and trying not to hyperventilate.

“Everything okay?” He looks up with a concern on his face.

“I’m so sorry—I need a couple of hours off. My dad is having car troubles, and I’ve been using my mom’s car until I buy my own. Can I please take a few hours to help them out?”

“Of course.” He waves a hand. “At this point, you’ve probably got a good fifty hours of comp time banked. Take the day. You’ve been working like crazy.”

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