The Risks

March: Chapter 45

The room was empty when I got back. The lights were off, my dishes from breakfast cleaned, and the note moved, so I knew Parker had been here. I dropped my bag by the door and slowly paced to the bed where I sat, just on the edge of the mattress.

This room is too small, you can't raise a baby here, my traitorous thoughts whispered.

That's okay, I reminded myself. Because your baby won't live long enough to even see this room.

I don't know how long I sat there, my mind going a million miles per second, but finally the door opened and I snapped back into reality to see Parker standing there with an array of different emotions playing across his face.

Surprise, fear, anger. Relief.

And then concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked after closing the door. He moved toward me, eating up the distance between us with his long legs, then crouched beside me. His panicked eyes were everywhere, and I knew with all this blood on me, that he was searching for wounds. "Are you okay? Tell me you're okay."

I was shaking, my whole body damp from a cold sweat. My stomach churned like the ocean during a storm, choppy and dangerous. I'd been afraid to tell him things in the past, but this eclipsed all of those things a thousand times over.

I opened my mouth, my lips moving to form the words. Just two words. I had to just get them out and then deal with whatever came afterwards. I swallowed and tried again, and just as I was about to speak, I suddenly clamped my hand over my mouth.

Oh no. Not again.

I pushed past him, making a beeline for the sink. I heaved once, twice, only actually getting a little out; I honestly didn't know how there could be anything left.

Parker was there, holding my hair back with one hand and rubbing my back with the other. As I straightened, he stepped back, and I lowered myself to the floor, resting my back against the cabinets while he filled a glass with water from the sink.

He knelt down beside me, offering me the glass. "Here. Drink this."

I took a few sips -thankful to wash the taste of bile off my tongue- before setting it to the side and resting my head on my knees, my arms circling around me so that my face was hidden. He pushed my hair gently over my shoulder, exposing part of my face, but I didn't dare look at him. I kept my eyes squeezed shut.

"Is everything okay?" His voice was gentle and comforting, but there was an edge to it that I couldn't miss even if I wanted to.

I shook my head.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, a thumb grazing my cheekbone. "Tell me what's going on."

I lifted my head, my arms tightening around my knees, and looked into his eyes. I wanted to just enjoy this for a second long –the look in his eyes. Concern and sympathy and the desire to comfort. After I told him, would they stay the same? Or would they turn cold with anger or even betrayal? I guess I'd just have to find out.

I couldn't make myself say the words, I just couldn't. So instead, I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the pregnancy test. He watched my movements, his eyebrows drawn down in confusion as I placed the plastic stick into his hand. He turned it, eyes moving down to inspect what I'd just given him, and I held my breath as I waited for his response.

He went still and silent, his expression completely blank now. I didn't know if this was better or worse. I watched as his eyebrows eventually pulled back down in confusion and his mouth slowly opened.

"But you're on the pill."

"They were expired," I said, my voice almost a whimper. "I didn't notice until today."