When Stars Fall [EBOOK and PAPERBACK PUBLISHED]

36. Ellie - 2007

Ten Years Ago

The plastic stick mocks me. The two lines appeared so quickly I haven't even gotten off the toilet. My ass is sore, but I keep hoping if I sit here long enough, I'll be able to pee on another stick. This one is broken, a dud. I cannot be pregnant.

Pregnant.

My body flashes hot and cold in waves. This must be what drowning feels like. Why did I take this stupid test?

I'm not sick.

I'm fine.

I'm late. But I've been late before.

I've never been pregnant before.

My phone buzzes on the bathroom counter. From the toilet, Wyatt's face is clear on the screen. He's in Shanghai filming. Every morning he calls when he thinks I'm awake. His hours are crazy, so it's easier for him to guess where I'll be and what I'll be doing than for me to try to get him. Fewer fights this way. The call goes to voicemail. I have about thirty minutes to make a plan before he phones again. One miss is fine, if it goes beyond that, he worries.

I take the next stick out of the package, and with a shaking hand, try one more time for the result I want. Without looking, I wrap toilet paper around it and line it up to the previous one. I'm not going to look until the full time passes. Rolling my shoulders, I stand up. It's going to be negative. It has to be. The first one was a false positive. Wyatt and I are careful most of the time.

An hour later, I haven't answered Wyatt's calls, and I'm still sitting facing the two positive tests. The few times Wyatt and I have talked about kids, his mantra has been the same. His lifestyle doesn't include kids. My mind flicks to Isaac, staring into my eyes, telling me this is no life for a kid. There's a knock on the bedroom door, and I jump. I left it ajar.

Footsteps echo in the bedroom and up to the door of the ensuite.

"Ellie?" Kyle's knuckles wrap sharply on the bathroom door. "You okay in there?"

"Fine." My voice trembles.

There's a noticeable hesitation. "Wyatt's called me a few times. Can you call him back?"

I swallow. "I don't know if I can."

There's another long pause, and I picture Kyle's confusion. We've always maintained a polite distance. He knows Wyatt well. Getting too friendly with me would not go well.

"Can I come in?" he asks.

"No, no." I shove the tests back in the box. These should be binned outside the house or down the street, somewhere no one will find them. "I'll call him, okay? I'll call him."

"Are you alright? If something's happened that I can take care of for you, you know I'll do that." His voice is clear and confident through the thick door. He's never met a problem he couldn't fix.

"No." He means stalkers, rabid fans, rude people, casting couches, someone in the street. Anything. Anything but a baby. "No, I'm just not sure I can go to Shanghai. I'm a bit sick. Homesick."

Kyle chuckles. "Call him. Tell him, and he'll be fine with you going home. He's out of his mind with worry that something happened to you."

"Okay." I try to keep my voice level. "I'll call him now. Sorry, Kyle. I know what he's like."

His footsteps retreat, and the door of my bedroom clicks closed.

With shaking hands, I pick up my phone and hit redial for Wyatt.

"Ellie?" Wyatt's voice is tinged with panic. In the background, the bar is loud. He doesn't like being this far away from me for such long stretches. I should have answered the phone.