A freaking pregnancy test.
How in the hell had she gotten here?
Despina handed her a package the size of a thermometer, then gave Zahara’s arm a squeeze and closed the bathroom door behind her, leaving Zahara alone. She stared at the box, her gaze roaming over the image of the test she’d only seen in television commercials. But in those, the couple was always happy with the results. Not only was Zahara alone, she wasn’t even on decent speaking terms with the…the… The what? What would she call Chase?
My baby daddy?
“Oh God.” She breathed the words, exhaled hard, and dropped her head back. That term brought so much discomfort. Thoughts of carelessness, struggle, strife. A wailing baby, sleepless nights, schedule nightmares. Shared custody, arguments. Something once beautiful, now tarnished—their friendship, their weekend together… Their child.
A spell of dizziness hit her, giving Zahara the motivation to cut off the terrifying thoughts and rip the packaging open.
She had to figure this out. She couldn’t stand this sense of being possessed. And now, thanks to Despina, she couldn’t continue on without knowing for sure, either.
“Just get it over with.” The sooner the better.
She glanced at the directions, but ultimately did exactly as Despina had described—Zahara peed on the stick. “There. Done.”
She set the stick on the counter and kept her gaze averted from the results window as she cleaned up. Zahara sat on the edge of the tub, lowered her head, clasped her hands between her knees, and waited.
She’d never realized time could pass so excruciatingly slowly. But even after the required time had elapsed, she couldn’t bring herself to look at the test.
A knock sounded on the bathroom door, and Zahara jumped. She swallowed and forced “Come in” from her lips.
Despina open the door a foot and peeked into the space. “Well?”
“I can’t bear to look.” She sounded weak. Fragile. Not at all the woman she was. The woman she wanted to be.
Despina came farther into the bathroom, her expression soft with understanding. “Can I look?”
Zahara wanted to tell her no. She wanted to turn back time and change her decision to come here in the first place. She wanted to keep this concern buried in the shadows so she could go on with her life.
Since that was impossible, she nodded.
Despina paused beside Zahara before checking the test and put her hand on Zahara’s shoulder.
“You’re one of the strongest, most amazing women I know. Whatever the outcome, no one could handle it better than you.”
Despina had no idea just how wrong she was. Zahara knew nothing about children. She knew nothing about being a mother. She hadn’t even had a good example as a child. In fact, she’d always assumed she would never have children. That hadn’t been a conscious decision she’d made at any particular point in life, just a belief she felt like she’d always had. Her lack of decent relationships and her career path had only cemented that idea as a certainty.
Now she rubbed her hands together and clenched her teeth against the knot twisting her stomach so tight, it burned.
Despina picked up the test, and Zahara filled her mind with all the things these symptoms could be aside from pregnancy. The flu, mono, thyroid imbalance, food allergies… Wasn’t there something called chronic fatigue syndrome? Hell, it could be cancer.
Wait. Had she just wished for cancer in lieu of pregnancy?
“Oh my God.” Despina’s soft whisper stilled Zahara’s spinning mind.
“What?” Suddenly she had to know, the urgency a living thing inside her. “What does it say?”
“Sweetie,” she said, lowering the test with a shocked expression. “It’s positive. You’re pregnant.”
Zahara sat there with her mouth open, but no response.
“You’re pregnant” flipped over and over in her head but didn’t stick. She couldn’t seem to attach that diagnosis to herself.
?
?No,” she said in a breathless whisper. Icy-hot fear pierced her body from the top of her head to the souls of her feet. Her skin sizzled with an invisible current. “No-no-no-no.”