Echos of a Genius | Spencer Reid

Concealed

Stephie

The hum of the bathroom's fluorescent light felt almost too loud in the quiet of my apartment. I sat on the edge of the bathtub, my hands shaking as I stared at the white stick on the counter, willing it to be wrong. But I knew better.

It had been weeks of pretending everything was fine—dismissing the nausea, blaming the constant exhaustion on work stress, and ignoring the way my jeans had started feeling tight around the waist. I told myself it was nothing. It had to be nothing. I couldn't even bring myself to entertain the alternative.

But now, sitting here, with a pregnancy test waiting to reveal the truth, I couldn't escape it any longer.

I glanced at the timer on my phone. Two minutes left. I squeezed my eyes shut, my pulse hammering in my ears. The last few months had been a whirlwind—a blur of mistakes, arguments, and too many regrets. First, Austin. Then Spencer. And now this. How had everything spiraled so quickly?

The tears burned behind my eyelids, but I kept them in check. Crying wouldn't change anything. I hadn't even told anyone I was taking the test. No one knew I had been missing periods, that I'd been holding my breath each time I woke up, hoping the sickness would pass. There was no one to turn to, no one who could help me carry the weight of what might happen next.

I couldn't tell Spencer. Not yet. Not with everything between us still so fragile, hanging by a thread after the argument that left us barely speaking. I had accused him of using again, and things had never fully recovered. Now, we barely acknowledged each other, our conversations short and shallow, like we were both afraid to break what was left.

And Austin? I couldn't even think about him without feeling a knot of guilt and shame tighten in my chest. I hadn't spoken to him since that day at the altar, since I walked away from the life we were supposed to build together. There was no doubt it my mind this baby would be Spencer's, it had to be his.

The timer went off, jolting me out of my thoughts. I opened my eyes slowly, my body feeling numb. It was time. My stomach churned as I reached for the test, my fingers trembling so hard I almost dropped it. I couldn't bring myself to look. I stood there, staring at the stick, willing it to be a mistake.

But there they were—two pink lines.

Positive.

I sank down onto the cold tile floor, my legs too weak to hold me up any longer. Pregnant. I was pregnant. A small, fragile life growing inside me, and I was completely, utterly alone.

My hand instinctively went to my stomach, pressing lightly as if I could feel something, anything, that would make this real. But all I felt was emptiness, a hollow ache that spread through me like a storm. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not now. Not like this.

The tears I had been holding back finally broke free, sliding down my cheeks. I hadn't planned for this. I wasn't ready for this. How could I possibly be a mother when my own life was in shambles? When I couldn't even figure out how to fix things with Spencer? When I didn't know if I would ever feel whole again?

I sat there for what felt like hours, my mind running in circles, trying to make sense of what was happening. I didn't even know where to start. I needed to see a doctor. I needed to figure out what came next. But most of all, I needed to figure out how to survive this, how to carry this secret inside me for as long as I could.

I wiped the tears from my face, trying to pull myself together. There was no use falling apart now. I stood up, shaky on my feet, and threw the test into the trash. The sight of it made me nauseous all over again. I couldn't deal with it right now. Not yet.