Page 36 of Risk

I have no comeback because my only focus is on the two tests sitting side by side on the counter and making sure that I don’t look directly at them. Like the sun. Because if they’re positive, Iknow for a fact that they’ll burn my retinas, and then I’ll be blindanddefinitely pregnant.

“How do you want to do this?” Lo looks at me, unsure.

“Just look at them and tell me what they say.”

“Okay.”

“Wait!” I yell, startling him.

“What?”

“I don’t know. I’m just…not ready.”

“You’ve done this once already. You already think you’re pregnant. It can’t get any worse than this.”

“Jeez. Thanks for the pep talk.”

“I’m gonna look at them and then just say it.”

“Okay.” I press my palms to my eyes. “Do it.”

It’s silent for a beat.

I hear Lo take a deep breath, and I know the answer before he says, “They’re both positive.”

And that’s when I start to cry. Real tears because there’s no doubt at all that I’m pregnant.

I feel Lo’s arms go around me, wrapping me in a hug.

“It’s going to be okay,” he tells me.

But I’m not sure it’s going to be.

I’m pregnant, and the father is a man who doesn’t want me. Ergo, I’m raising this baby solo.

And that thought makes me cry harder.

THIRTEEN

I’m settled on the sofa with Lo sitting next to me. I’ve finally stopped crying. I’m just at the small hiccup stage while I try to calm my thoughts.

I’m pregnant.

Pregnant.

Nope. Doesn’t matter how many times I roll the word around in my head. It still sounds alien to me.

I have to give props to Lo—he’s been great. He held me while I bawled my eyes out. I mean, it wasn’t the first time he’d seen me cry or hugged me through a crying session.

But this was a total bawl-fest—I’m talking snot and choking on my tears, rambling nonsensical stuff about how my life was over, that my PhD was in the toilet, how I didn’t know how I was going to do this. I’m pretty sure he didn’t have a clue as to what I was saying because I was blubbering while talking. But like the good brother he is, he stayed quiet and let me ramble and cry and just held me and brought me tissues when I had snot dripping down my face.

I know for a fact that it grossed him out. I would have laughed at the expression on his face when he realized some of my snot was on his T-shirt, but I didn’t have an ounce of humor in me. Still don’t.

I just told him to change into one of my old, oversize Dartmouth tees that I usually wear to bed. It’s a little tight on him, but it’s better than him wearing the snot shirt.

I’ll wash it for him when I can get myself off the sofa. Which I can’t see happening anytime soon.

“Thanks for being here.” I lean my head on his shoulder.

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