Page 4 of There Are No Words

Ugh, this thing! It was vile. It was poisonous. It held my future in its hands. Okay, so dramatics aside, it was a pregnancy test. But it might as well have been a great white circling me in the ocean because I wasn’t taking my eyes off the thing.

I tossed the bag in the car along with my purse and slammed the door shut. All the while I couldn’t seem to start the car. My eyes were fixated on the bag. I told you I wasn’t taking my eyes off it.

I couldn’t stand referring to it as a pregnancy test, so for now, it was justit.

Itdid not belong in my car.

No,itbelonged in some other woman’s car.

I shouldn’t have neededit.

And yet, I knew I did.

I was late.

And not just for brunch at my oldest sister Maria’s house. The plan was to have brunch with my sisters, and I was definitely going to be late for that. But I was also late—late. As in, I’d skipped my period.

Don’t even go there, I already knew.

My heart was going to beat out of my chest. I just knew it.

I parted my lips and exhaled slowly, trying to calm my nerves.

This was bad.

But maybe it wouldn’t be. Maybe, just maybe, it’d be fine. Women were late all the time and that didn’t necessarily mean they were pregnant. It wasn’t likeboom! Late period = pregnant = lifelong commitment.

I’d been under a lot of stress lately—work-related, of course. See, I worked atBellissima—my family’s world-renowned fashion magazine—under my father, Angelo Morelli, and with my sisters, Maria and Perla. My other sister, Bianca, had also worked there but was now living out her dream of designing wedding dresses. The publication had been born from my late mother Regina Morelli’s beautiful mind, and she’d been the editor-in-chief until her last dying breath a little over a year ago. She and my dad had made it what it was today—influential.

I was the social media manager and social event coordinator. Currently, I was in the very early stages of planning a bigBellissimaevent (an anniversary party for the magazine). So there was a chance that was all this was, right? Stress from planning an event that would make a splash.Bellissimadidn’t put together an event that didn’t make a splash. Yep, I was chalking this up to stress. Totally plausible.

Right?

Right!

Unless it wasn’t. Icouldvery well be pregnant.

And then it’d all be Brady’s fault. Naturally.

Brady and his gorgeous, rock-hard body. Why did I have to find a male roommate again? Oh, right, because I was an idiot. I mean, I’d always liked to believe I was moderately intelligent, but clearly, I wasn’t. Who in their right mind thought they could live under the same roof as someone that good-looking? Forgetheat in the winter, guys, he was scorching hot, so all you needed to do was sit next to him.

Anyway, the point here. . . I was blaming the man. It was so much easier that way.

Finally blinking, I shook my head, trying to clear the negative thoughts.

Nope, it didn’t work. I looked out the corner of my eye at the bag and could’ve sworn it was staring at me. It probably got its shits and giggles out of this.Silly Allegra Morelli thought she could have sex—that should have been illegal, it was that good—and get away scot-free. Ha!

“Positive thoughts, girl,” I reminded myself. If I put positive thoughts out into the universe, then that would be what I’d get back.

I inched my finger closer to the ignition button on my car and used every bit of strength I had in me to press it.

What was I going to do? I wasn’t cut out to be a mom. Okay, that was total bull because I’d be a great mom! But to be a parent with Brady? That I wasn’t so sure about. All the signs were there that we’d never be a good match. How could we co-parent a child?

I remembered the deep breathing techniques that I swore by and inhaled and exhaled a few times. Then my phone went off again, and all that was for nothing.

My sisters—again.

“I’ll just pee on the damn stick at Maria’s,” I decided, announcing to no one but myself in the car.

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