21. Natalie
CHAPTER 21
NATALIE
M onday morning arrives with a vengeance, all the light and bubbly feelings from last night stripped away and replaced by earth-tilting nausea. My eyes snap open, and within seconds I'm rushing to the bathroom, just barely reaching the toilet in time to avoid disaster.
This can't just be stress; it’s a more severe reaction than I’ve ever experienced from situational anxiety. Sitting on the bathroom floor, I go over all the possibilities in my mind—all the fast food I've been eating at the site, a potential virus—but nothing quite seems to fit.
One thing is for sure, though: I definitely won't be making it into work today.
I try to stand, but the world is still spinning. Instead, I crawl, slowly and wobbly, over to my phone on the nightstand. The effort is exhausting, and I slump against the side of my bed as I dial Jack.
“Nat?” Jack answers, his voice still thick with sleep. “It's barely six o'clock. Are you okay?”
“I'm not sure,” I manage to respond, trying to ignore the bitter taste in my mouth.
Jack is suddenly very awake. "You sound like shit. What's wrong?"
I hesitate, then share the morning’s events. "I don’t know, I'm sick. Threw up. Thought maybe... It doesn’t feel like food poisoning."
“That sucks, I'm so sorry, Nat,” he sympathizes. “Do you need me to come over?”
“I don't think so. Just wanted to tell you I won't be at work this morning.” I rest my head on my knees, feeling dizzy.
“Okay…Well, can I bring you anything? I can run by the pharmacy before work,” Jack offers.
“That might be good,” I answer weakly. My mind works slowly, clouded by the nausea, fatigue, and dizziness. I imagine walking through the aisles of the pharmacy, trying to think of anything that might help.
Not Tylenol. Maybe some Pepto or some Dramamine? Probably not Midol, it really doesn’t seem like PMS?—
Oh my God.
My body turns to ice as I realize what it is I really need: a pregnancy test.
The possibility had not even occurred to me before, but now that it has, it seems terrifyingly plausible.
Julian and I didn’t use protection.
Fuck.
“Nat? You still there?” Jack's voice jars me from my thoughts, my adrenaline acting as a momentary anti-nausea drug.
"Yeah," I finally reply, my voice small. “It's okay, I have medicine here.”
“Are you sure?” Jack asks. “I really don't mind getting you something.”
“No, I'm okay. I'm actually feeling a little better now,” I lie, anxious to get off the phone so I can run to the pharmacy myself. There's no way in hell I could ask Jack.
“Alright, well… Just take it easy today, okay? I'll call you when I get off work. I can bring you some dinner later,” Jack suggests, his tone gentle.
“That sounds good. Thanks, Jack," I say, genuinely grateful for his concern, but needing him to stop talking as soon as possible.
After we hang up, I sit there for a moment longer, gathering my courage. Then, with a deep breath, I stand and head out to the pharmacy. The drive is a blur, my mind racing with the implications of what a positive test could mean. Things were just beginning to settle between Julian and me. God knows what will happen now.
I purchase the test, my hands trembling slightly as I take it to the self-check-out. I consider going to the bathroom here, taking the test right now and getting it over with, but ultimately decide I'd rather be safe at home in case I completely fall apart.
Back at home, I follow the instructions on the box mechanically, my heart pounding in my chest. The wait is agonizing, each second stretching out interminably as I watch the timer on my phone. Millions of scenarios flash in my head, and I struggle not to let any take root until I know what I'm dealing with.
Finally, the timer goes off. I take a deep breath, steel myself, and look at the result.
The digital display on the pregnancy test is stark, unequivocal. Positive. I stare at it, my mind refusing to accept the reality in front of me.
It's positive. I'm pregnant.
Shock courses through me like ice water, chilling and surreal. How could this be happening now? My thoughts race, tumbling over one another in a chaotic whirl. This changes everything. Everything.
It's Julian's—that I know for sure. In a way, that part is a relief. I've already seen first-hand how wonderful he is with Aria, so there's no doubt in my mind that he would be anything less than a perfect father to this child.
Oh, God. A child. A baby.
Julian and I have only just rekindled something. Something I thought might have promise. But this is taking things way too fast. It's not something we're ready for. Not to mention my career, the total lifestyle shift…
I'm not ready.
And what will Julian think? He's already dealing with so much. Julian, with his own bundle of complexities and his protective instincts, might feel suffocated, overwhelmed—it might be the very thing to set him over the edge on which he’s been so precariously balancing.
I sit back against the cool tile of the bathroom wall, the test still in my hand, feeling a profound sense of isolation. Burdening Julian with this news right now feels wrong. He’s under enough pressure. This could break him, break us.
I decide, here in the quiet solitude of my bathroom, not to tell him yet. Not until I can figure out how to handle this, how to even begin processing it myself. It’s not just about what he’ll think or feel. It’s about what I need, too. What this child—my child—will need.
I resolve to keep this secret just a little longer, at least until the immediate chaos at the Langford is resolved, until we can find a moment of peace to navigate this new reality together. But for now, I'll carry this knowledge alone, a silent sentinel guarding a future uncertain but inevitably changed.