Page 65 of Sinful Beauty

My forehead rests in my palm. There’s no fever. My breasts are sore.

Oh my god. I’m pregnant.

I haven’t missed a single day - ever. But I’ve been staying at Tristan’s. I don’t pack my pills. Sometimes I take them in the evening. And then there was one day that I doubled up because I the pack showed me I missed a day. My skin grows clammy and cold. This is my fault.

My phone rings. It’s Khelani.

I’m sitting on the floor, back against the wall, close to the toilet in case I need it again. My arms are so weak it actually takes effort to lift the phone. I answer, setting it to speaker.

“Lucia?” She sounds scared. A part of me wants to laugh, but tears well up. “Holy shit, girl. You are, aren’t you?”

I haven’t taken the test, but I know with a bone deep certainty. The tears well up in my throat and I sniffle.

“Deep breaths, okay? Take deep breaths.”

Arms wrapped around my legs, I follow Khelani’s directions. The nausea lessens with each deep breath, but a torrent of tears flow.

“Oh sweetie. I joked, but you are, aren’t you?”

I nod, but she can’t see me. The silence says everything.

“Are you going to tell him?”

No.

But you have to.

But he’ll think I did it on purpose.

There’s no winning here. God, how could I be so stupid?

“If you don’t want the baby, you can take a pill. You don’t have to have it.”

She’s right, of course. There are options.

If my mother were alive, I know what she would want me to do. She would tell me the Lord has a master plan, and a baby is a gift.

“Lucia, are you there?”

I tear off a piece of toilet paper, blow my nose, and sniffle. “I’m here. I can’t believe this. I’m so fucking stupid.”

“Are you on birth control?”

“The pill. I’ve been on it forever because I have painful cramps.” I should’ve switched to an IUD. “There have been some days where I missed it in the morning and didn’t remember until the end of the day.” A sob escapes from the depths of my soul.

Tristan trusted me when I told him I was on the pill, and now it’s going to look like I lied to him. How can you be on the pill for years and then get pregnant so quickly? It shouldn’t even be possible, should it?

“Do you need me to come out there?”

I sniffle again in response to the fresh tears. “You’d do that, wouldn’t you? Jump on a plane?”

“You betcha. That’s what best friends do.”

“I love you.” Another sniffle. “Oh, my god.”

“Honey, it’s going to be okay. No matter what you choose. I’m looking at flights right now.”

“You don’t need to do that.” The room spins. “I’m so lightheaded. I think I need to try to keep something down and then go to sleep.”

---