Page 72 of Between Hate and Desire

Hunter narrows his eyes as if he doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t push it. Releasing me, he tells me to call if I need anything. He grabs his work stuff and then is out the door.

I grab the pink box and head to the bathroom. I’ve never taken a pregnancy test and try to quickly read over the instructions.

“Okay, well, seems pretty basic. Pee on the stick, wait two minutes, life changes forever,” I mutter to myself, my hands shaking as I take off the cap. Since there are two tests, I decide to pee on both of them.

Once I’m done, I set them down on the counter and pace the tiny bathroom floor. It’s then that I think about what this could mean if I am.

The last time Brandon and I had sex was the night before he died. That was two months ago. If I remember from learning about this in school, a pregnancy gets calculated from the first day of your last period, so it’s like two weeks before conception. That means if I am, I’d be ten weeks pregnant already.

The realization hits me hard and fast. I could be having Brandon’s baby, and he’s not even here to experience this with me. He won’t get to meet his child. I won’t have a husband to rely on and be joyful with. Leaning against the bathroom door, I fall to the floor. I can’t raise this baby alone. My parents will never approve. So not only will my baby not have a father, but it won’t have grandparents either.

My phone goes off, telling me the two minutes have passed, and it’s time to know for sure. My palms are sweaty, and my heart is beating so hard, I can feel it all over my body. Part of me already knows what I’m going to see when I look at those tests.

Crawling over to the counter, I grab the two sticks from the sink and lower them. I clench my eyes tight, trying to steady my breathing before I open them and look at the two lines in front of me.

Positive. Both of them.

Two bright-ass pink lines.

The tears fall as I come face-to-face with reality and what this means for my future.

A future without Brandon. The grief hits me all over again.

I curl up into a ball on the floor, unable to find the strength to move as I cry myself to sleep.

A loud knock on the bathroom door startles me awake, and as I peel my eyes open, I realize I’m still on the floor and have no idea how much time has passed. I can’t believe I fell asleep, and now my body is sore from lying on the tile. As I pick myself up, I see the two tests next to me and tear up all over again.

“Lennon, you okay?” Hunter knocks again. “I got home about twenty minutes ago and am starting to get worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” I croak out. “Be right out.”

Shit.

He just got home from work, which means I’ve been in here for hours.

Standing, I stuff the two tests in my back pocket and look at myself in the mirror. I’m a hot fucking mess. My face is blotchy, my hair is still pulled up from this morning, and you can tell I’ve been crying. You’d think all my tears would’ve dried up after Brandon’s death.

After washing my face and adjusting my hair, I leave the bathroom and walk into the living room. Hunter’s digging around in his bag, and when I take a seat on the couch, he lifts his head and studies me.

“Shit, Lennon. Are you sure you’re okay?”

I shake my head, my gaze staring into nothingness. “No. I don’t think I am.”

Hunter moves around the coffee table and comes into my view, and though my eyes don’t focus on him, I can feel his movements.

But a part of me feels numb.

How could this be happening now?

Being pregnant should be a positive and happy experience, but all it does is finalize the fact that Brandon’s never coming back. And I’m alone. I have my sisters, but I can’t expect them to rearrange their lives for me. They each have dreams they’re chasing too. I nearly gasp for air when I think about my parents and what their reaction will be.

“You’re starting to scare me,” Hunter says. “Did something happen?”

My heart races as I blurt the words, “I’m pregnant.”

Hunter stares for a long moment, and I know he’s just as shocked as I am. When I’m certain he’s not going to say anything, I open my mouth, but then he speaks first.

“Wow…uh. You’re sure?” He brushes his hand through his hair as if he’s trying to process all of this too.

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