Liz looks at me, and I blurt, “Of course!” because despite that horrible moment seven years ago, despite the weight of my grief for my father on the day we put him in the ground, I don’t want my mother to die. As much as I’d like to get the whole my engagement is over conversation out of the way, now is not the time. I don’t know what would happen if I told her the truth right now.
“You left your ring on the counter at the bakery again,” Liz says, fumbling for an explanation. She nudges me. “I told you to buy a chain to wear it around your neck while you work.”
My thumb rubs my bare ring finger. “Good idea,” I mumble.
“Well, the doctor said they won’t be letting me go today or tomorrow, so I’ll have to make you a list of the things that need to get done before the wedding. It’s coming up fast, and it’s time you take a more active interest in the plans anyway.”
Nix gives Mom a smile. “Right now, you should rest.” She turns to me and Liz. “I need to get back to the office. Your mom is working with a fantastic cardiologist, and she’s in good hands, but you know where to find me if you have any questions you don’t want to ask him. Hanna?” She tilts her head toward the hallway.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell my mom. Then I follow Nix into the hallway.
“How are you doing?” she whispers after t
he door closes behind her.
I cross my arms. “What do you mean?”
“How are you handling the news of your pregnancy?”
“I’m not pregnant,” I tell her flatly. “Virgins don’t get pregnant.”
There is so much pity on Nix’s face that I nearly squirm under the weight of it.
“That would have shown up before if it was true, right?” I point out. Because I’ve been thinking about this a lot since she called with the news yesterday. “If I were pregnant, we would have known when I was in the hospital. You guys test for that kind of thing, don’t you?”
“We do.” Her words are cautious. Measured. “Your hCG levels were normal when you were in the hospital.”
That’s what I thought, and if it weren’t for my worry over my mom, I might actually smile. “So I’m not pregnant. There was a mistake. The blood work must have gotten mixed up or something, because I remember every day since the hospital, and trust me, there’s been no sex.”
“Or,” Nix says, looking over her shoulder to make sure this conversation is still private, “you were so newly pregnant when you were hospitalized that your hCG levels hadn’t yet elevated. Pregnancy isn’t just a snap occurrence. It’s a process. Egg meets sperm, moves down into the uterus, implants in the uterine wall—”
“I took bio in high school.”
“Then you know there’s a window between conception and when the body starts producing the pregnancy hormone.”
I shake my head. I can’t deal with this right now. It can’t be true. “Someone’s screwing with me. They switched my blood work or something.”
“That only happens in the movies.”
“Well, virgins only get pregnant in the Bible, so…”
She studies me for a beat. “Are you sure you’re a virgin?”
“I haven’t slept with Max and I haven’t slept with Nate, so unless I’m an even bigger ho-bag than I thought and there’s a third guy I’m not remembering”—I meet her eyes and speak slowly so she understands—“I. Am. Not. Pregnant.”
We stare at each other, engaged in a battle of wills.
“Call my office and make an appointment,” Nix says. “If you’re so convinced we ran the wrong person’s blood, we’ll need to do it all again anyway.”
“Fine.”
“Hanna.” The voice calling my name makes me close my eyes. It hurts too much to hear his voice.
When I open my eyes, Nix must see the question on my face. How much did Max hear? She mouths, “It’s okay,” then says out loud, “We’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Slowly, I force myself to turn around and face Max. He’s carrying a vase of colorful roses, and even though he attempts a smile when I look at him, he can’t mask the hurt in his eyes or the questions there.
“Is she okay?” he asks quietly.