Page 66 of Back On Ice

Fuck. Fuck fuckfuck.

I’m late. I’m never late.

“Phone. I need my phone. A calendar.” My hands pat my pockets for my phone, but come up empty.

“Use mine,” Abbie says quickly, fishing hers out and handing it to me unlocked.

My heart pounds in my chest as I open her calendar app, desperately trying to remember the last time I had my period. Carter had bought me four different kinds of heating pads and two tubs of ice cream, and we sat on his bed watching movies all night.

That was… that was the day after he confronted the council about that alternate proposal for the NHL arena. The week before I saw the texts from Nicole.

Six fucking weeks ago.

Abbie’s face turns pale as she registers the look on my face.

“Okay, it’s okay. Don’t panic. It’s probably nothing. People have late periods all the time. But, okay,” She takes a deep breath. “Let’s make sure. All the pharmacies will be closed already, but I can run to my uncle’s practice and grab some tests.”

My head nods numbly as I stand there in shock, vaguely registering the sound of my front door opening and closing as Abbie leaves. I can’t believe this is even a possibility. I’m on birth control. I take every pill religiously, right when I wake up. Except…

God fucking damn it.

I grab my current birth control pack from my purse and race up the stairs to my bedroom, wrenching open the bathroom door and digging in my trash.

Scraps of tissue and make-up remover pads litter half the floor before I find it.

Last month's birth control packet. The last date of the pills was a Tuesday…

And the first day of my new packet is a Thursday.

I skipped a day. And I’m ninety-nine percent sure I know exactly what day it happened. The morning that I stormed out of Carter’s hotel room after seeing the texts from Nicole. I had been so angry and distracted that I didn’t take my pill.

My stomach roils and I lurch for the toilet again, dry-heaving. What the hell am I going to do?

I can’t have a baby.

I can’t.

Carter and I aren’t even… I don’t knowwhatwe are right now. He hasn’t reached out since he’s been gone. I know I asked for time, but… for weeks, when he first got here, I wanted him to leave me alone and he wouldn’t listen.Nowhe takes my request seriously?

Or… the thought of him just being done with me makes me sick to my stomach. I just don’t know how I could have been so careless and stupid. Ten years of being on birth control and I never once miss a pill. I get emotional one time and screw everything up.

Abbie finds me in my bathroom, clutching the toilet bowl with trash all over my floor. “Oh, Soph…” There’s pain for me in her voice as she comes up next to me and rubs large circles across my back. “It’s going to be okay. No matter what the test says, I’m here for you.”

Swallowing roughly, I hold my hand out for the tests, which she places gently into my palm.

She’s right. I can do this. It’s just peeing on a stick. That’s the first step. What comes after…? We’ll just see about that.

Ten minutes later, we’re huddled in my bathroom, staring at the three positive pregnancy tests on my bathroom counter.

My breath quickens, my eyes burn, and I allow a moment to feel sorry for myself.

This is insane. I messed uponce, and now my life is about to change forever. How is this fair? I’m already pulled in too many directions as it is, and now I get to add being knocked up on the list? I’ve already done part of the whole baby thing once. I know how much time and effort it takes, and I didn’t even have the rink and flower shop to think about when I was helping Tom with Jordan. How am I going to manage this?

Fuck.

Take a deep breath, Sophie. The moment is over. Time for the real question. What do you do now?

Am I ready for a baby? I’m not sure.

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