“I’m good about it,” I say. “I always have…” I cringe. Shit. My head hurts as I wrack my brain for answers. When Lo relapsed and when the molestation rumors ignited instead of fizzling out, everything became really confusing and stressful. I must have been distracted and forgot.
The realization knocks me back a couple steps, but Rose holds onto my shoulders still, so I just sway a little like I’ve had too many morning mimosas. This can’t be right. “It’s wrong.” I can’t believe in this outcome.
If I’m pregnant…Lo will be devastated. He has expressed that he doesn’t want children, not when alcoholism is hereditary. And we’re not in a good place to have a baby. I don’t know if we ever will be.
“It has to be wrong,” I say again, this time meeting my fierce sister’s narrowed gaze.
I wait for her to say: it probably is. Or: there’s no way you’re pregnant. But maybe it seems unrealistic. I’m a sex addict. I should’ve had an accident a long time ago, right? “We have anal sex,” I blurt out, even raising my hand like it solves everything.
“So?”
“So we have lots and lots of anal sex, and the sperm can’t go to the right place in that position.” I am shrinking into myself, dodging the word “vagina” and “eggs” in one swoop.
“All it takes is one time vaginally,” she says. “And what are you doing having lots and lots of anal sex? You shouldn’t be having lots and lots of any sex. I thought you two were being more careful.”
We weren’t.
We haven’t been careful since we ditched my therapist’s blacklist. Nooners. Public sex. It has become our new routine. One that has filled us both with a sense of joy and normalcy.
“There’s something that I have to tell you. Please do not scream.” I tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear. “A little before my twenty-first birthday, Lo and I weren’t doing so well. We had a major fight about sex…” I swallow a pebble in my throat. “I felt guilty for keeping him from it, and he was always restraining himself around me.” I pause to gauge her reaction.
Anger has already shaded her face into something kind of demonic, her cheeks concaved and her arms crossed.
Shit. I just keep going. “You see, I didn’t want the guy I’m with to be scared of me. And that’s what it was starting to feel like. So…”
“You’ve been having lots and lots of sex,” she finishes for me, her words crystalizing.
“Yeah, and we ditched my therapist’s suggested rules.”
Her mouth falls. “You did not.”
“They were suggestions,” I emphasize this part.
“Did you tell Dr. Banning? Did you let her in on what you’ve been doing or have you and Loren kept this from everyone?” Well Daisy knows…but I don’t throw my youngest sister under the bus. Her loyalty must be rewarded.
“It’s our sex life,” I say softly. “We thought we had it under control.”
“Now you’re pregnant,” she snaps. “How is that under control?”
Tears start to brim, and I wipe them quickly. “The test could be wrong…”
When she sees my tears, she rolls her eyes but stops attacking with every weapon in her arsenal. “How much is a lot?” she asks, planting her hands on her hips.
“I don’t know…” I blink, trying to recall the amount. “Maybe two times, three, sometimes four.”
“Every day?” The word is laced with acid.
My answer won’t bring kind sentiments and good cheer, so my lips stay closed. I just nod.
“For two years, Lily?” She looks like she’s going to cry. Maybe because I never trusted her with this information.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “It was working…” Until now. I can’t touch my abdomen. Is there really something in there?
“I’m surprised you haven’t been pregnant ten times already.”
“The test could be wrong,” I exclaim, sticking to this one bit of hope. How can I tell Lo? It will send him off a cliff that I’ve been trying to draw him away from for months.
“I’ll schedule an appointment for you so we’ll know for sure,” she says.
I nod, and my gaze drifts to the counter where her test lies. She is fixed to the floor, too scared to confront her own fate. So I do it for her, approaching the pregnancy stick.
Two lines.
Just like mine.
I shake my head, a weight lifting off my chest at a single thought. “These tests have to be broken, Rose. What’s the probability that we both got pregnant at the same time?” It’s all wrong. We’re okay.
“Not impossible, obviously,” she says, her body rigid like a board. “I’ll schedule an appointment for me too.”
I blow out another breath, this time it quakes my chin. “I can’t tell Lo,” I realize. Even if it’s true, I don’t know if I can tell him right away either. It’ll crush him so much. I don’t want to cause him any pain.
“I know,” she says. “I’m not telling Connor.”
My mouth falls. “Why?” He wants children. They’ve been married for a little over a year, and they’ve withstood a lot together, with no signs of parting. They channel power from the universe that only nerd stars can access. I’m sure of it.
The galaxy is on their side.
“He’ll be happy.” She says the word like it’s disgusting. “And I want to process the awfulness of this situation for as long as possible without him gloating and grinning.” She raises her chin like a declaration. “If he’s truly as smart as he claims to be, he’ll figure it out on his own.”
I wonder if she really just wants to pretend like it’s not happening for a while. It’s weird, but Connor will probably like the challenge. Then again, maybe it isn’t so weird. He’s Connor Cobalt.
She appraises my mental state for a second, returning her worries back to me. “We’ll help each other,” she says. “And we won’t tell anyone else until you’re ready to tell Lo.”
“If I’m pregnant,” I say, but the waterworks have already begun again. Rose is usually right. She’s the smart one, so the fact that she’s not even considering an inaccuracy in the test—it makes it more real than I want it to be.
She rips off a piece of toilet paper and hands it to me.
I dry my eyes, realizing that if we’re going to have any chance at hiding this, I can’t leave the bathroom distressed and upset. I sniff.
“I’m here for you,” she says in that icy, Rose Calloway voice. Strangely, it’s become more than comforting. “We won’t let each other down.”
I nod. In the end, I have to do what’s best for Lo. Even if it hurts.
50
2 years : 01 month
September
LOREN HALE
“Where’s Daisy?” Rose asks, strutting into the kitchen with Lily after they spent probably fifteen minutes together in the bathroom. Connor is right. I shouldn’t question these things. It’s Rose. She could’ve been asking Lily about sex, just overly concerned.
Connor dumps bacon into a bowl. Breakfast for dinner, Daisy’s choice for her going away party. “The garage,” he says. “Ryke went to check on her.”