11. Emily
11
EMILY
A s I make my way to the Lower East Side, I can’t shake the gnawing feeling that something is very, very wrong. The thought of Lucas crosses my mind again, but I push it aside, focusing on the immediate problem—figuring out what’s happening to my body.
The diner Mia suggested is a small, unassuming place we’ve been to countless times before—a relic of a bygone era with cracked vinyl booths and faded photos of the neighborhood lining the walls.
The smell of greasy food and burnt coffee fills the air as I slide into a booth across from Mia, who’s already there, sipping on a soda.
“You look like hell,” Mia says bluntly, her eyes narrowing in concern. “What’s going on?”
I slide into the booth across from her, the familiar squeak of the vinyl reminding me of how many times we’ve sat here, sharing our troubles over greasy fries and cheap coffee. But today, the thought of food turns my stomach, and I push the menu aside without even glancing at it.
Mia eyes me critically, her sharp gaze taking in every detail—the pallor of my skin, the dark circles under my eyes, the way my hands tremble slightly as I reach for the water glass. “You look like hell,” she repeats, her tone more concerned than blunt this time. “What’s going on?”
I sigh, rubbing my temples as if that might somehow clear the fog that’s settled over my mind. “I don’t know, Mia. I’ve been feeling sick for days—nauseous, dizzy. I even threw up during a job interview this morning.”
Mia’s brow furrows, and she sets down her soda, leaning in a little closer. “Sick how? Like, the flu? Or something else?”
“It’s not the flu,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s different. I can’t explain it, but I’ve been feeling off, like my body’s not my own anymore. I thought it was just stress, but now… I don’t know.”
Mia studies me for a moment, then asks the question that’s been lingering in the back of my mind, the one I’ve been too afraid to ask myself. “When was the last time you had your period?”
Her words hit me like a freight train, and I blink, trying to recall the answer. My mind races back through the past few weeks, but it’s all a blur of job rejections, sleepless nights, and this gnawing, ever-present anxiety.
“I… I don’t know,” I admit. “A while ago, I guess. I’ve been so stressed with everything, I didn’t really notice.”
Mia’s expression turns serious, and she leans in even closer, her voice low but insistent. “Emily, could you be pregnant?”
The words hang in the air between us, heavy and terrifying. Pregnant. The possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind, not with everything else that’s been going on.
But as I do the math in my head, a cold sense of dread settles over me. The last time I was with Lucas was six weeks ago. We didn’t use protection. “I assumed it would be okay. It was just one time. What are the odds?”
Mia is already rummaging through her oversized handbag, pulling out a small, rectangular box and sliding it across the table toward me. “Here,” she says, her tone firm. “I had this left over from when I had a scare after a one-night stand. You should take it, just to be sure.”
I stare at the pregnancy test, my heart pounding in my chest. “Mia, I can’t…”
“Yes, you can,” Mia interrupts, her voice leaving no room for argument. “And you should. Better to know now than when it’s popping out. Go to the bathroom and take it. That’s an order.”
My hands are trembling as I pick up the box, the weight of it feeling much heavier than it should. I can’t bring myself to move, to even think about what I’ll do if the test is positive. “But what if it’s positive? What do I do then?”
Mia reaches across the table and squeezes my hand, her eyes softening with sympathy. “One step at a time, okay? Let’s just see what the test says first.”
Her reassurance is enough to get me moving, and I nod, swallowing hard as I slide out of the booth and make my way to the dingy bathroom at the back of the diner. The fluorescent light buzzes overhead as I lock the door behind me, the noise grating on my already frazzled nerves.
I lean against the sink, staring at the box in my hands, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts—Lucas, my job situation, the fact that I’m barely keeping it together as it is.
But there’s no turning back now. With trembling hands, I open the box and follow the instructions, my heart pounding in my chest as I wait for the result.
The seconds drag by like hours, each one stretching out in agonizing slowness. I can hear the faint murmur of voices outside the bathroom door, the clatter of dishes in the diner, the hum of the city beyond these walls.
But all of it feels distant, muted, as if the world has shrunk down to just this moment, just this tiny test in my hand.
Finally, the result appears, and I force myself to look at it, even though I already seem to know what it’s going to say.
Positive.
My breath catches in my throat, and for a moment, I feel like the floor has dropped out from under me. Pregnant. I’m pregnant with Lucas’s child. The realization hits me like a tidal wave, a mix of fear, shock, and something else—something I don’t want to admit to myself.
I’m terrified, completely and utterly terrified. But beneath the fear, there’s a flicker of something else. Hope. The idea of having a child, of not being alone, of maybe, just maybe, finding some sort of happiness in this chaotic world—it’s a terrifying thought, but it’s also strangely comforting.
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I slip the test back into my pocket. My hands are still shaking as I unlock the door and step out of the bathroom, making my way back to the booth where Mia is waiting. One look at my face, and she knows the answer.
“Well?” Mia asks, her voice gentle, but I can hear the tension underneath.
I nod. “I’m pregnant.”
Mia’s eyes widen, and she immediately pulls me into a tight hug, her arms warm and comforting around me. “Oh, Emily… what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, my voice trembling. “But I can’t keep this from him. Lucas deserves to know.”
Mia gives me a concerned look, her hand still resting on my arm. “And what about you? How do you feel about him?”
I hesitate, the words catching in my throat. But there’s no point in denying it anymore, not to myself and certainly not to Mia. “The reason I left his place so early… it wasn’t because I didn’t want to stay. I was bullshitting. It’s because I was afraid.
“I was already starting to feel something for him, and I didn’t want to let it get any stronger. I’m not in a place for a relationship right now, Mia. I’m broke, I’m a mess, and he’s… he’s Lucas Caprione. He’s worth a fortune and he’s gorgeous. He probably sleeps with a different woman every night of the week.”
Mia’s expression softens, and she squeezes my hand again. “You’re not a mess, Emily. You’re just going through a rough time. And as for Lucas… I don’t know him, but I do know that people can surprise you. Maybe he’s not as heartless as you think.”
“I don’t know,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t know what to think anymore. But I do know that I can’t make this decision without telling him first. He deserves to know, and I need to know how he feels about it.”
Mia nods, her eyes full of understanding. “You’re right. He does deserve to know. And no matter what happens, I’ll be here for you. You’re not alone in this.”
As we finish our drinks and get ready to leave the diner, my mind is already racing with thoughts of what I’ll say to Lucas, how I’ll approach him, and what this new reality means for both of us.
I’m scared—more scared than I’ve ever been—but I know there’s no turning back now.