Page 43 of A Moment for Us
“Thank you.”
“Come on, let’s get back before Kinsley gets curious,” Stella says, already moving to pull the door open.
Jess and Winnie head out first, both of them smiling and giggling. My heart is racing, and I don’t know how to extricate myself from this—or Stella, but I will. I start to go, but as soon as I step, Stella’s hand grips my arm.
“We are so going to talk about this,” Stella warns.
The tears that were threatening before return. “I know, just not today. Can you give me a few days?”
“Is it Josh’s?”
I nod and wipe away the tear that finally fell. “A few days, Stella. I just need a few days.”
She hugs me, and the resolve I was holding on to threatens to break. “A few days.”
Not that anything is going to change, but I need to at least get an appointment with my doctor and find out why my body is lying.
* * *
“You’re pregnant.”
“No. Run it again.”
Not that the sixteen pregnancy tests I took the last four days have been different, but still.
“Delia, I promise, you’re pregnant.”
I shake my head and groan. “How? How is this possible! We use condoms, and yes, we had one break, but I’m on the pill. What the hell are the odds? Because we had like a one hundred and ninety-eight percent chance of no baby. We should have a negative percent chance between my birth control and his condom . . . literally . . . no baby!”
Dr. Locke smiles sympathetically. “It doesn’t exactly work that way, but I understand what you’re saying with all the precautions you took. However, something failed.”
“You think?”
She laughs. “I don’t mean it that way.”
“Can I sue someone?”
“No.”
“Well, I want to.”
“I’m sure you do.” She attempts to be understanding.
“Then answer this because I need to know, how? How did my birth control, which I take at the exact same time every day, fail me?”
She places my paperwork down and exhales. “You didn’t miss a pill?”
“No.”
“Okay, what about being sick? Sometimes if you’re throwing up a lot, like with a stomach bug, the pill may not have had a chance to get into your bloodstream.”
I shake my head. “None of that.”
“St. John’s Wort?”
I scrunch my nose. “No. Don’t take that.”
“Okay, well, any antibiotics or . . . anything?”
