Page 62 of About That One Night
I’m not ready for a baby. It’s not in my six- or twelve-month plan. If I pull out the planner, will the doctor understand that she’s wrong with her assessment? I can deal with more GI issues. That’s something I can manage. A child . . .
“We’ll send a prescription for prenatal vitamins to your pharmacy and call you with the results no later than tomorrow morning. Do you have any questions?”
I nod, half-listening and half-making plans for Maximillian’s demise. “Okay, thank you.”
My head feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton, and my hands are trembling as I clutch my bag. This was definitely not how I expected my routine checkup to go. Now I have a lot to think about—and even more to figure out.
As the doctor is about to leave the room, she stops. “Zoe?” Dr. Lodge’s voice breaks through my spiraling thoughts. “I know this is a lot to take in. But you have options and support available, no matter what you decide. We can discuss everything in more detail once we have the blood test results.”
I nod again, forcing myself to meet her kind, concerned gaze. “Okay,” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”
Dr. Lodge gives me a reassuring smile before leaving the room.
I walk out of the doctor’s office, my legs feeling like jelly. My breaths come in shallow, uneven gasps, and I clutch my chest as if that will steady the frantic beating of my heart. The world around me blurs, andI blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision. The weight of the news presses down on me, making it hard to think straight.
I pause outside the building, the cool air hitting my face. I take several deep breaths, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. Each breath feels like a battle, but I keep at it, determined to regain some semblance of control. There’s so much to process, and the decisions ahead loom large and daunting.
The world outside seems too loud, too vivid, too normal. How can everything look the same when my entire life has just been turned upside down?
I walk toward my car in a daze, my feet moving on autopilot. I slide into the driver’s seat and just sit there, staring blankly out the windshield—a baby.
I’m going to have a baby.
A baby.
I’m becoming somebody’s mom.
The thought makes my stomach churn, and I swallow hard against the rising nausea.
I rest my forehead against the steering wheel, trying to take deep breaths. I need to think, to plan, to . . . I don’t even know. My mind is a whirlwind of emotions and half-formed thoughts.
A sudden knock on my window makes me jump. I look up to see Max standing there, a concerned expression on his face.
Of all people, it’s him outside my window. Seriously? And what am I supposed to do now? Be all casual and say, “Hey, Max,” or just call him my baby daddy, or . . . I can’t talk to him right now.
He taps on the window again, miming for me to lower it.
I can do this. Just talk to him and leave right away. I plaster a smile on my face and roll down the window. “Hey,” I say, hoping my voice sounds normal.
“Hey yourself,” he says, his brow furrowed. “You okay? You’ve been sitting in your car for more than five minutes and look a little . . . off.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lie, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “Just . . . life, work . . . my future.”
“You don’t look fine,” he says suspiciously, then points at the building. “You went to the doctor? Did you get some bad news? I can help, you know.”
I open my mouth and close it. Then frown because how does he know?
“It’s a medical building,” he responds to my silent question and grins. Then points to the building across from it. “I work just right there—I’m not stalking you or anything.”
“Oh right. I was there for a routine checkup and stuff,” I try to sound breezy, but I’m pretty sure I’m failing and sound like I’m about to have a panic attack. “You know, just the usual poke and prod.”
Max nods, but he doesn’t look entirely convinced. “You sure? You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I was there for Liam and his family while his grandmother was going through her cancer treatment.”
His voice is so kind and soothing that for a moment, I’m tempted to just blurt out the truth, to let someone else share this crushing weight. But I can’ttell him of all people. Not him. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Well, no, I could wait until my baby turns eighteen. Even better, I can make the kid tell his father.
Okay, that’s a crappy thought, and I definitely wouldn’t do it. But right now is not the time to have this conversation with him.
“Zoe, are you okay?” he says the words so slowly you’d think I was a toddler trying to understand quantum physics.
