Page 12 of Our Cracked Pieces
And I was fucking tired of it.
Knowing her parents had a standing bridge game every Wednesday night, I had demanded she let me come over, so we could talk. And she must have known I was serious because she had reluctantly agreed and had even commented that maybe it was time.
When I had arrived, Vanessa had immediately gone to what she knew best. She’d gotten on her knees as soon as I had gotten here, and now she was showering after another bout of frantic sex. And since this was the first time she’s rushed to the shower after sex, I knew she was stalling.
Sitting on her bed, running my hands through my hair in frustration, I knew I couldn’t leave here without answers. I was tired of her roller coaster of emotions, and no matter how much I cared for her, this shit was becoming exhausting.
Glancing around the room, while she showered, I noticed her nightstand drawer cracked open. I wasn’t a neat freak or anything like that, but opened cabinets or drawers annoyed the shit out of me. It was like another level of laziness I just couldn’t get behind. It didn’t take a whole lot of manpower to push a drawer all the way in or closed a cabinet after you’ve gotten what you needed.
Leaning over, I went to push the drawer closed when something caught my eye. I grabbed the handle and pulled the drawer open wider, and I literally lost my breath.
What in the actual fuck?
I reached in, and though I’ve never seen one in real life before, I knew what it was. I knew enough about it to know what I was looking at.
It was a fucking pregnancy test.
Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I pulled up pregnancy tests and searched what two fucking lines meant. Pacing the room, I searched for a similar-looking test online, and once I found one, I found out the difference between one line and two. Two lines meant positive, like the two lines staring back at me right now.
Vanessa was fucking pregnant.
As my brain absorbed that bit of information, everything else started to click in place. The distance, the mood swings, the hot and cold, the sexual highs and low, all of it…it made sense now.
I tucked my phone back in my pocket, and dropping my ass back on her bed, I wondered what the hell I was going to do now. More importantly, why hadn’t Vanessa said anything? Was she scared? Did she really think I wouldn’t be there for her? Did she really think I wouldn’t support her?
And even with the whirlwind of confusion I was feeling right now, I couldn’t lie and say I understood what she might be going through. As a male, I’d never understand what Vanessa might be thinking or feeling right now.
Getting pregnant meant two different things to men and women. For men, it meant we were going to become fathers, and in nine months, we had to make sure we were financially ready for that responsibility. We had nine months to get our shit together and provide for the family we had created. We had nine months to grow the fuck up and do better. We had nine months to come up with a plan that worked for everyone.
Women not so much.
They didn’t have time for all that. They didn’t have nine months to get their shit together. They had to get their shit together immediately. Their entire lives changed immediately. The second that test came up positive, they had to start watching what they ate, making sure they stayed healthy.
Women went through immediate changes with their mindset, their bodies, their emotions, their everything. There wasn’t one part of a woman’s makeup that went untouched by pregnancy. Grown women struggled with the abrupt changes, so I couldn’t imagine what a positive pregnancy test did to a teenage girl. A teenage girl who had plans to go to college in a few months.
I didn’t agree with Vanessa not telling me, but I could reluctantly understand it.
When the shower turned off, I remained sitting on the bed, trying to decide if I was pissed, confused, or sympathetic. I turned my head at the sound of the bathroom door opening, and as soon as Vanessa exited the bathroom wrapped in a warm, fuzzy robe, pissed was the feeling that trumped all the others.
I stood up and tossed the life-changing stick on the bed. “What the fuck is that?” She glanced at the bed and her panicked eyes told me everything I needed to know. “Are you fucking kidding me, Vanessa? How could you not tell me?”
I still couldn’t understand how this happened. We used protection every fucking time we’ve gotten naked together. There has never been one slip up, and even if Vanessa had chosen to go on birth control, I still would have used condoms. I’ve never fucked without one, so I didn’t know what I was missing, and I wasn’t keen on finding out.
And I knew condoms still had a fail rate, but Jesus fucking Christ, Vanessa took it up the ass more than anything. I’ve unloaded in her pussy lots of times, but over the last few months or so, it’s always in her ass or on her face or tits. If she were going to get pregnant, you would have thought it would have been early in our relationship when it’d been all about the pussy.
What were the fucking odds?
“Lorcan, I…”
“What, Vanessa?” I snapped. “You, what?”
And then she fucking slayed me.
“I…I’m scared,” she whispered brokenly, her eyes like shimmering emeralds as tears formed. “I…I was-amscared.”
I was around the bed, pulling her into my arms, before I knew it. “Vanessa…”
Her body started wracking with sobs. “I…I just do…don’t know wh…what t…to do,” she confessed.
