“I know. I’m sorry.”
Coming over to me, he kisses my forehead and then my lips and nudges my chin up when I try to look away. “Are you feeling any better?”
I shake my head, eying the floor. This is going to be bad.
“No? What are you feeling? Why didn’t Cindy let you go home?”
“She did. I’ve been walking around for a while.”
Finally understanding, he straightens with an inhale and sticks his hands into his pockets. “Darcy, what the hell is going on?”
“I went to the doctor today.”
“Okay…” He’s clearly steeling himself. “For what? Because you felt sick? I could have gone with you.”
God, I don’t want to tell him.
“You’re fucking scaring me,” he says, his eyes wide like an owl’s.
“I’m…I’m pregnant, Benjamin.”
He stares at me for so long with no expression whatsoever that I can do nothing but sit down to wait for his reaction. I have no idea how long we remain in silence before he speaks.
“Pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“You went to the doctor today. You found out then?”
“Yes. When I woke up sick this morning, I suspected it then, realizing how long it’s been since my last period.”
He covers his mouth, shaking his head. “How far along?”
“Eight weeks.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ.”
“I’m so sorry, Ben. I—”
He rounds the desk and takes an abrupt seat, bent as though he’s about to stick his head between his legs to keep from vomiting.
“Ben, talk to me. What are you feeling? We need to talk about this.”
“Well, what do you feel?”
“Scared, confused…happy in a strange way.”
“Darcy…” He swallows, and it seems to echo through the room.
“Talk to me.”
“Darcy, we’re not ready for this.”
“I know. I know we’re not.”
“We just got married.”
“I know.” I stare at my shoes, biting my lip. “I know.”