Roomie Wars Box Set

“Um…” she pauses. “Six.”

“And with these six men, how many have you had unprotected sex with?” Dr. Taylor questions, scribbling down notes as Zoey procrastinates.

She bows her head refusing to look my way, clutching to her gold pineapple which she brought to the clinic. Like that’s going to protect her. My gaze purposely focuses on the poster pinned to the wall. It’s a picture of the human anatomy, and although I’m extremely familiar with it, I study it again welcoming any distraction.

“Just the one. Wait, what about oral sex?”

Oh fuck. Did she have to ask that? My hand is gripping the chair, the sweat in my palms sliding against the plastic. The anxiety begins to eat away at me, my stomach churning, anticipating her response.

“Oral sex as well,” Dr. Taylor confirms.

“Like three… no, wait, maybe four.”

I want to block my ears. Rock myself in the corner wishing I could erase everything I’m hearing. A childish act, but I didn’t expect to feel this way. Overcome with jealousy, again.

Women never make me jealous. A few tried but failed miserably. I’m really not that guy. I never emotionally attached myself to someone to experience that emotion. Does my being jealous mean that I love her? I do but just as friends.

I don’t even know what love is. Sure, I deeply care for her. I want to protect her from everything and everyone. And most importantly, I only want her to be happy, and for the world to be blessed with her beautiful smile every day.

I only want good things for Zoey.

And whether or not I’m a good thing is yet to be determined.

“Okay, Miss Richards. I need to take a swab. Do you want Mr. Baldwin present?”

I answer yes, the same time she says no.

“No,” she warns me sternly. “This is already so embarrassing. It would be nice to leave with some sort of dignity.”

I walk out shutting the door behind me. Outside the room, I sit in the waiting area along with the other patients. It feels like an eternity, the clock taunting me with its slow precise movements. The magazines that casually sit on the table beside me are dated and seem uninteresting. There is nothing else to do but close my eyes and wait.

Sometime later, she emerges, eyes swollen and bloodshot. Her lips are quivering, and with shaky legs, she walks to me almost collapsing in my arms. I jump to my feet, just in time, catching her as she falls.

“It’ll be okay, Zo. I swear my life on it,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head while she weeps into my chest.

It’s a big promise to make.

I have everything to lose, my whole life riding on it.

And that only confirms my feelings for Zoey.

She is my whole life.

And without her, I have nothing.

Chapter Seventeen

Zoey

I have never been so terrified in my life.

Dr. Taylor explained more about the STD, how it’s contracted, and if found positive, ways it could be treated. I told him about Callie and how she couldn’t have kids. He went on and explained further about the symptoms she would have experienced that led to her being infertile. The thought of not having kids weighs heavily on my mind. Much like Callie’s predicament, what man would want me if I couldn’t have children? It’s the only thing I can think about now that there’s this possibility of it being taken away from me.

I want nothing more than to pee on that stick, see the two blue lines, and feel the pure joy many women have told me they experienced. I want to attend an ultrasound, see and hear my baby’s first heartbeat. I want that first kick, and to have weird cravings and eat pickles with ice cream at three-o’clock in the morning. I want to go into labor, scream my lungs out, all the while blaming my husband that it was all his fault and march on over to the operating room for a quick snip.

I want to be a mother.

And that feeling alone is what hurts the most. That it may never be. Granted, I know there are other options, but this, this can’t be happening to me. I’m only twenty-nine. I studied in college and finished my degree in architecture. I wasn’t a complete airhead. I should have known better.