Jackson is fast asleep, and Wes is watching TV downstairs. I said I was going to change into PJs and be right back. Taking one test won’t take long. And I have to pee anyway.
My hands shake and I close my eyes, talking myself down. Flipping that test over and seeing a big fat negative is more disappointing than I ever expected.
But this time…
“Wes!” I blink. Once. Twice. “Wes!”
I hear him running up the stairs. “What’s wrong?” he asks, pushing open the bathroom door. I’m standing in front of the sink, too stunned to talk. I hold up the test.
Wes looks at it, at me, and back at the test again. Then he pulls me into his arms.
“You’re pregnant!”