25. Ivy
TWENTY-FIVE
Ivy
“Okay, I’m over this.” I lean up onto my knees, flushing the toilet and struggling to my feet. “This can stop any time now.”
The waves of nausea have been hitting me like repetitive mac trucks for about a week now. I may have thought it was food poisoning or an upset stomach before, but not now.
I’ve either got the mother to end all stomach bugs, or I’m dealing with something more serious, and that, of course, freaks me out.
I shuffle over to the sink, rinsing out my mouth and splashing my face with water. After all this time, I’ve gotten pretty good at knowing if the nausea is actually going to make me throw up or if I’m just going to be miserable for a few hours.
The weird thing is that it’s worse when I don’t eat. It’s also worse if I overeat or eat the wrong thing, and that “thing” seems to change on a daily basis.
I’m also more rundown than I’ve ever been. It feels impossible to get enough sleep to avoid being groggy in the morning, and naps have become my new afternoon pastime.
As I dry off, I head back to the bed. I have today “off” as it were. Xaden is watching Daisy at his place so I can get a bit of rest, and Sam is even swinging by to bring me a little care kit.
I lay in the quiet for a little while before the doorbell rings, and I know that it’s Sam. It takes me a few minutes to get up and over to the door without barfing, and I’m glad that I messaged Sam about all this so she knows to wait.
When I finally reach the door, I open things up, and the fresh air is both too much and very welcome. It’s gotten that much colder outside as we progress into late fall, and the chilly wind helps shoo away some of the nausea.
“Hey, boo. You look like shit.” Sam offers a smile, leaning in for a hug.
I welcome her in, chuckling, and then lock up behind her. “Yeah, that seems to be the case.”
Sam holds up a canvas tote with a grin. “Well, let Abuela’s homemade chicken soup recipe tend to your needs.”
I smile. I’m not sure if anyone’s soup recipe can make me feel better, but I’m definitely willing to try. And it’s beyond sweet that Sam came all this way with it.
“Thanks. I’ll give it my best shot.”
She puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Look, I’ve been around sick kids my entire life, and there is nothing that Abuela’s soup can’t cure. But, just in case you can’t manage it yet, I also brought Nut Thins and ginger tea.”
“You, my dear Sam, are a saint. I love you.”
We hang out for a little while, and I’m able to get down a bit of the soup before the nausea reels its ugly head again. I don’t wind up in the bathroom, but I’m uncomfortable for the majority of our Supernatural marathon.
“Girl, this thing is going to kill you. How long have you been sick now?” Sam wrinkles her brow at me, and I sigh.
“A week or so. It’s been pretty constant, too. And both Xaden and Daisy are fine. I have no idea what’s going on. I’m starting to worry that I have Crohn’s or something.”
Sam sits up straighter on the couch, appraising me. “Any fever?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Hmm, what else are you feeling?”
I can see the cogs work inside Sam’s head. She’s looking at me like she’s sure she’ll be the one to crack this and save the day.
“Achy. Tired all the time. Nauseated a lot. Bloated. Kind of moody. When I’m not feeling like I’m going to be sick, so freaking hungry.”
She cocks a bit of a smirk, her brows still pinched together. My eyes go wide in a silent “What?” and Sam takes my hand as she scoots closer to me on the couch.
“Umm, I cannot believe I’m the one saying this, but there might be something else you want to consider. And trust me, I know what it looks like. Oldest of four, remember?”
“Know what what looks like?” I shake my head, on edge for an answer from her.
“Have you considered that maybe you’re…pregnant?”
My mouth drops open as my stare flares that much wider. After a moment, I pull backward, my eyes going to the floor.
“What? No, I couldn’t be. I’m using protection.”
Sam was the second person I told about Xaden and me, and she had a field day with it, too. With this, I have to wonder if she’s just messing with me.
“I mean, always?”
I nod, my heart rate ticking up. “Yes. Hell, some of the time, we’re using condoms, and I’m taking the pill, so that’s two forms of protection.”
Sympathy bleeds through Sam’s expression as I gape at her, and then I’m up on my feet, pacing back and forth through my living room.
“No. No way. I can’t be pregnant.”
“Well,” she stands up, meeting me in the middle of my panicked walkabout, “then let’s get a test just to rule it out. You’ll be able to know for sure that you’re not.”
The logic is sound, and as much as I secretly want to just run away from this and pretend like it’s not happening, I know that’s pointless. Reality will find me wherever I go, and I have to be an adult.
Jesus, fuck. Okay.
“Alright. Let’s get one.” I look up from the rug positioned under my coffee table, both new additions. “Will you stay with me?”
Sam’s eyes flare wide, and she wraps me in a hug. “Of course, babe. I’m not going anywhere.”
After a moment, she steps back, holding my arms. “Hey, how about you let me run to the store. You don’t need to be stressed out in public, especially if it’s going to make you sick again.”
I melt into her hold, relief flooding me with its potent dopamine. “Oh my God, yes. That would be so amazing. You’re the best, Sam.”
“Yes, I am.” She smiles. “I’ll be back in a jiffy. Why don’t you go try to lie down?”
I nod, agreeing to give it a try. After I walk Sam to the door, I head back to my bedroom and lie down on the bed.
It lasts about two minutes before I’m up and pacing my room, my thoughts spiraling like a tornado.
Pregnant. Seriously? I’ve been careful. What are the fucking odds?
My heart races, and I have to breathe through another wave of nausea that drifts over me.
“Come on, Ivy. You’re okay.”
But am I?
This situation is so much. I agreed to try things with Xaden because I adore him, adore being with him, and I was just on the precipice of telling him about my father.
Now this?
I don’t want to be melodramatic. I don’t. I’m a rational person who is used to dealing with some terrible stuff, but I can’t help but feel like I’m being punished or something.
I know that Xaden and I didn’t meet in the most orthodox way and that, yes, technically, he is my boss, but we haven’t really been treating it that way since I started spending time with him.
Looking after Daisy is something I do because I love that little girl, and I’m basically living with Xaden now.
God, what is my life? Do…do I want a child?
That’s actually an easy question to answer. I’ve always wanted children. I just didn’t know if I’d ever get that chance because I’m not one to date.
For very good reasons, I might add. You know, those reasons I was going to tell Xaden about.
Everyone I know kind of imagines these things differently, though. It’s the whole married and then trying for a baby thing.
This is not that. This is spontaneous and damn impressive if I really am pregnant. I mean, I know that, theoretically, it does happen.
People get pregnant even when being careful. That’s why the pill is rated at ninety-nine percent accurate.
Nice to know that I continue to have the luck of the one-in-a-million variety. I mean, the odds of having drug-addicted parents—who only finally went to jail when they crossed that final line—aren’t exactly up there, now are they?
I sigh. I’m going to wear a hole through the floor at this rate. But it’s impossible for me to keep still. I wind up walking from my bedroom to the bathroom to the living room and back.
How am I supposed to tell Xaden about all this? Does he even want another kid? His grief is so palpable. I can see that he blames himself for Maeve’s death, and I still don’t know why.
Releasing a shaky breath, I hear a knock at the door and hurry there to let Sam in. She smiles with that sisterly sympathy again, and we rush back to my bedroom so that I can take the test.
It’s an easy enough process. I mean, you pee on a stick. It’s not that complicated. When it’s done, I replace the cap, and I’m supposed to lay it flat.
Nerves get the best of me, so I don’t even walk it to the counter. I just lie it on the floor while the screen starts up with a little animation of a clock filling up.
Leaving the master bathroom, I go sit by Sam on my bed and ask her to set a timer. She wraps her arms around me as we wait for the prescribed two minutes.
“It’s going to be fine, okay? You have choices, Ivy. Whatever you want to do, I’ll be right here with you.”
I just nod. I can’t find any words at the moment.
It’s quiet, and then the timer Sam set on her phone goes off.
It’s time.
“Do you want me to go get it?” Sam asks.
Staring at where the test sits on the floor, I shake my head. “No, I…I’ll go.”
Shuffling over to the bathroom, I sit down on the floor with my back to the bedroom. It still takes another few seconds before I can spin the test around so that I can lean over and read the screen.
When I do, I see one glaring word staring back at me.
Pregnant.