Page 25 of Room 810

“P-pregnant?” I stammered. “I can’t be…” Except it was more than possible. In fact, it was very probable, now that I thought about it. I mean, we didn’t use protection, but we were a little caught up in the moment, what with the storm and everything. And I supposed I hadn’t had a cycle since before Gabriel’s visit, but it wasn’t like I was sexually active (other than that oneverybig slip-up), so I hadn’t really been keeping track. “I—I just…”

Birdie’s laughter tapered off as she realized I wasn’t joining in. “Oh, you really are pregnant? I thought he was joking. Shit. Sorry.” She traded a look with Pierre. Neither of them knew how to handle this situation. “I guess we’re not excited then?” she asked quietly, taking in my distinct lack of joy.

Tears had begun to sting at my eyes, and I felt numb with shock. It wasn’t that I wasn’t excited about maybe having a baby, especially when the alternative was death. I loved babies! And I’d always intended to have them eventually, but… I guess I had always assumed I would have an alpha by my side when it happened.

“Maybe you’re not pregnant,” Birdie said unhelpfully. “Maybe it’s just typhoid.”

Pierre nodded, agreeing. “Sure, it could be anything. Like, dengue fever maybe? A lot of tropical diseases can cause nausea. You shouldn’t assume anything.” I didn’t answer, because I already knew the truth. I was pregnant.

Birdie’s eyes darted down to my midsection. “You should take a test at least. Right?”

Right. A pregnancy test. In the States, it was as easy to get a test as walking down to the corner store and paying a few bucks. Here? A little less easy. I could go see the island’s lone doctor, an alpha in his sixties who’d grown up here, but he was a virtual stranger, and this felt too personal to share with someone I didn’t know. There was only one alpha I wanted to share it with, and that was Gabriel.

I pushed back from the table and stood up. “Hey, any chance you guys could keep this to yourselves for a bit?” I asked them, knowing how unlikely that was. The staff at the resort was a tight-knit group, and juicy gossip was like currency.

“Totally,” Birdie said, and they both nodded so fiercely that I almost believed them.

I figured I had twelve hours max before word got out. There was no containing it. But it would be nice to know myself whether I was pregnant or not, before everyone else started making assumptions. I wasn’t above renting a charter to fly to a nearby island, but it seemed a waste of money—not that I didn’t have plenty to spare, but my father had taught me better business sense than that. So instead, I headed to my office and brought up the electronic ordering system. I ordered pregnancy tests to come with the morning’s shipment of supplies—a whole case, because they came packaged that way from the supplier, though I hoped I only needed one.

My cell phone beckoned, tempting me to call Gabe, but what was I supposed to tell him? He didn’t intend to come back, it was his rule. Maybe I shouldn’t tell him at all; that might be the kindest thing for him. That way, he wouldn’t feel pressure to do the “right thing.” I didn’t want to be an obligation to him. Children were very perceptive; they would know if they weren’t loved. And so would I…

So, instead of making any rash decisions when I didn't even have any proof yet, I locked myself in my cabin for the night, waiting on the news that the morning would bring.

Ifeltjustassick the next day, as the cresting sun brought me to a groggy wakefulness, but I pushed the queasiness aside and hurried to catch Miguel before he left for the airport to pick up supplies.

“Hey, hope you don’t mind the company this morning,” I said as I walked up to the small truck parked in the narrow parking lot along the side of the main building. There were no passengers on the plane today, since it was the middle of the week, so he wouldn’t need to drive the ungainly shuttle.

“Sure, no problem, boss.” Miguel’s smile was wide but unnaturally so, tight and showing too many teeth. He was a horrible actor. He’d obviously heard the news. He was kind enough not to say anything, though, and we drove to the airport in silence.

As we were loading up the back of the truck with boxes of dried goods, Miguel picked up a box then paused, looking down at it. The cardboard case boasted, “Early and accurate results.” His eyes flicked over to mine, and he bit his lip before awkwardly saying, “What a good idea, boss, ordering these tests for the gift shop. Being such a romantic getaway, I’m sure we have lots of guests curious about their… condition.”

“Yes. Exactly my thought,” I agreed, grateful for the lame excuse to cling to.

And so, when we pulled up along the back of the building to unload, I took the box. “I’ll just… unpack this in the gift shop.”

Miguel just smiled and nodded, but before I entered the building, I heard him say, “Good luck.”

If only I knew what outcome to hope for.

I had this ongoing war being waged inside myself, between my brain and my heart, logic and emotion locked in a fierce tug-of-war. On the one hand, I loved my life here on the island, just as it was. It was easy-breezy, with no stress, just sandy beaches and ocean waves. I felt no need for change. On the other hand, while a child was a lifetime of work, pressure, and responsibility, not to mention the potential heartache, every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was a child with my blond hair and Gabriel’s hazel eyes.

It wasn’t until I found myself staring down at the two lines, declaring that I was indeed pregnant, that I felt joy emerging as the clear victor.

I was pregnant, and Gabe was the father. And even if he never returned, at least I would have this small piece of him here with me forever.

My dad would’ve been so excited to be a grandfather…

15

Gabriel

Ididallthethings expected of tourists while traveling. I went to the museums, visited the landmarks, ate the food, saw the sights. But these days, it felt like I was just going through the motions. It was tedious, boring. I’d been playing the role of tourist for several years now, and until a couple months ago, I never would’ve anticipated getting tired of it, but… here I was. Tired.

“Excuse me,” a voice said in a familiar American accent, and I turned around to find a young woman smiling patiently at me. “Would you mind taking a picture of us?” She held out her phone to me.

“Sure.” I took the phone and held it up, framing the couple in the center of the screen, the Louvre Pyramid in the background, all glass and steel. It was an impressive structure, but I found my eyes locked instead on the couple’s smiling faces. They looked… well, happy, with their arms around each other. They clearly weren’t from here, but the fact that they were vacationing together nudged at me. What would that be like, I wondered, sharing a trip with someone you loved?

“Did you take it yet?” the boyfriend asked. “My cheeks are starting to hurt.”

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