Page 292 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

“I’m only telling the truth. I have a regular jeweler, evening dress seamstress, dry cleaner, butcher, and bakery. It’s about time I had a personal real estate agent.”

“I’m going to be personally thanking you later. How’s that for service?”

“Ten out of five stars every time.”

When we finish the tour, and I’m officially in love with the house but out of my league financially, we go next door. He opens the door and has me enter first. “Why is it dark in here when they’re home and expecting us?”

“Not sure, but the soup smells good.”

“I smell the candle Natalie always burns but not food.” He shuts the door, and I call, “Natalie?”

Turning back to Harrison, I ask, “Are you sure they knew we were coming over?”

He laughs, taking my hand. “Of course. They probably just went upstairs for something since we detoured next door.”

“Maybe. It just feels off.”

“It’s fine.” He starts to lead me down the hall. “I live here when I’m not at yours, so we’re not doing anything wrong.”

Spotting the half bath, I escape. “I need to use the restroom.” Before I shut the door, I say, “I’ll just be a few minutes. Start without me.”

“Start what without you?”

“Soup. You said you’re hungry. Soup it up. I’ll join you shortly.”

He stands there staring at me like something’s wrong but then sighs. “Okaaay.”

I shut the door and immediately pull out both pregnancy tests. Reading the package of one, I rip the other and tug out the plastic stick. When I’ve read down to the fine print, I open the other and then do the deed, peeing on both.

I wasn’t nervous before, distracted by so much other stuff from the restaurant to the house next door, but standing here two minutes of the three is pure torture.

“Are you okay, Tate?”

“Good,” I say with a locked door between us. “I’ll be out soon.”

I look at my phone, wishing it showed seconds on the screen. Pacing the tiny room, I’m going to wear a circle into the floor. I check the time again, too nervous to check the tests.

When three minutes have finally passed, I brace my hands on the sink counter, take a deep breath, and look in the mirror. “It will be okay. Either way.” When the pep talk doesn’t seem to calm my shaking hands, I swallow hard and just look down.

Blinking, I find my vision is blurry. I squeeze my eyes closed and try again. This time it clears, but my legs feel numb as though they’re going to give out from under me.

Two tests. Two lines on each.

I plop down on the toilet and grab the wrapper from the trash can. Reading the directions again, I mentally check off each step and then study the results before comparing them to my tests.

Pregnant.

Pregnant. . .

I start to sweat and need air. Grabbing the tests, I swing open the door and rush out and right into Harrison’s arms. “What’s wrong?”

Waving the sticks around like a crazy person, I reply, “I’m pregnant.”

“Surprise!”

22

Harrison

---