Cruel Trust

Eighteen

"Oh my God."

I jumped up and ran to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before projectile vomiting. I retched for a full minute before I collapsed onto the floor.

Jesus, what in the world?

I was lying on the floor with my cheek pressed to the tile, staring at the wall, when a horrifying thought entered my mind. When was my last period? It's November 12th, I can't even remember when...I hopped up and reached into the cabinet, rifling through junk until I found a box with one pregnancy test in it. Unwrapping it, I sat on the toilet and peed, laying the stick on the side of the tub. I set a timer on my phone and paced in front of the sink for three whole minutes. When the alarm went off, I held my breath and lifted the stick.

Two pink lines had appeared.

I stood there staring at the test for at least five minutes. Pregnant? This was a disaster. I was on birth control and took it religiously! How could this happen? But I had to admit, Andrew and I hadn't used a condom since high school. We knew each other's complete history and had both been tested to make sure we were healthy. I guess I always knew in the back of my mind that it was poss—

Oh my God. Liam. Did he use a condom? I don't remember...but I don't think he did. Panic bubbled up in my gut and I thought I was going to puke again.

Liam, the potential father of my baby?

I held my palms to my belly. No. We only did it once; Andrew and I had slept together countless times since then. What are the odds it would be Liam's? Not zero, which was enough cause for alarm.

I started to call Andrew but stopped myself. I couldn't tell him this over the phone. I needed to figure things out first.

Instead, I called Julia.

"Julia, it's Charlotte. Meet me at Walgreens on Highway 100 please."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes—no—I don't know, just please meet me."

"Of course, of course, I'll be there in ten minutes."

I raced down the stairs and out the door, not even bothering to change out of my pajamas. When I reached the Walgreens, Julia was waiting outside the door, and she ran to my car when she saw me pull in.

"Charlotte, what is going on? You have me worried sick."

I grabbed her hand and dragged her inside, straight to the feminine products aisle. We stopped in front of the pregnancy tests. She looked at the shelf, at me, back to the shelf, and back to me.

"Charlotte...are you saying what I think you're saying?"

I gulped and nodded. "I projectile vomited this morning, so I took a test...It said positive. But—but isn't possible to get a false positive?" I was grasping at straws.

"Umm—yeah, but I think it's kinda ra—yes. Yes, it is possible to get a false positive," she covered, grabbing four different brands from the shelf. "Come on, let's go."

When we got back to my house, I drank almost a gallon of water and peed four times on four different pregnancy tests.

Every one of them was positive.

I threw myself on the bed facedown. "What in the hell am I going to do?" I groaned, my words muffled by the pillow. Julia sat next to me, rubbing my back.

"It's going to be okay, honey. We'll figure this out." She paused, took a breath, and started again. "I don't want to ask this question, but..."

I turned over and looked at her. "You're going to ask me who the father is. And my answer is going to be 'I don't know.'"

"Liam didn't use a condom?" She wasn't judging me, but she was as horrified by the notion of me carrying Liam's child as I was.

"I don't think so. It all happened so fast, and I wasn't thinking straight enough to ask him. We slept together the day before I went to the hospital...and then Andrew and I got together not long after. It could literally be either one of them."

"But look, you only did it with Liam once, right? And you said you and Andrew have slept together multiple times since the beginning of October. So, it's much more likely to be Andrew's," she concluded.

"Right, but there's still that chance...and I can't tell Andrew this right now. I can't." My curls brushed my shoulders as I moved my head side to side.

"Calm down, Char. You don't have to tell him right now," she soothed, wrapping her arms around me. I leaned against her, trying but failing to even my breathing.

The next week went by uneventfully, except for my throwing up every morning. When Andrew was around, I was able to explain it away as remnants of serotonin syndrome. I knew I needed to get to my doctor, but I couldn't seem to get up the courage to make an appointment. If I went to my gynecologist, it was real.

Thanksgiving was approaching, and I have to say that even with all of the secret anxiety I was harboring about being pregnant, Andrew was delivering on his promise. He had planned for he, Julia, and I to have a meal at my house on Thanksgiving, offered to buy all the food, and make sure I didn't feel alone at all that day.

I almost told him about the pregnancy so many times: when we were lying in bed, driving to dinner, in the middle of Target. But I just hadn't been able to do it. God, I hated myself for sleeping with Liam. Why didn't I at least insist he wear a condom? It was exhausting, keeping this secret from Andrew. I knew I had to tell him soon. I just needed to find the right time.