9. Amelia
Amelia
I got the call this morning. My cousin Zoey had her baby. I already had a gift ready and waiting for this day.
I open my calendar app on my phone, wanting to add the baby’s birthday so I’ll never forget or miss getting the little princess a gift to celebrate the day she entered this world. It’s something I do every time my cousins have a new baby.
I have a horrible memory when it comes to birthdays—or at least, I used to before I started utilizing my phone’s calendar. It’s been an absolute life-changer when you have a family as large as mine.
I scroll down to today’s date, ready to add the new baby’s birthday, when my gaze snags on seven days earlier.
Period.
I blink as my heart sinks and my stomach rolls. When is the last time I had it? I’ve been so busy with the bakery, I hadn’t even noticed I’ve missed at least two.
I swallow as my heart beats so fast, I’m sure I can see it moving my shirt.
Breathe, Amelia.
I’m sure there’s another reason why I’m late. I’ve never been the type who’s always on time with anything, including my period.
Don’t panic yet.
Stress has regularly caused me to miss periods, and lately, I’ve been under more pressure than I have been in years. Of course, I’d miss a period or two. It is normal for me.
A text notification pops on my screen, pulling my racing thoughts in another direction.
Tate: I’m headed to the hospital soon to see the baby. Want to come with me?
Me: I’ll meet you there in thirty.
Tate: Perfect!
Thirty minutes will give me enough time to stop at a drugstore, grab a pregnancy test, and get to the hospital. Better safe than sorry. Or at least that’s something my father always says. But I doubt he ever thought it would pertain to his daughter getting knocked up by a stranger.
I fall face first into my couch cushion and give myself a moment to scream into a pillow. There is no way I am pregnant. The universe doesn’t work like that. It wouldn’t do me that dirty, would it? Who am I kidding. My luck is complete shit at times.
After a full sixty seconds of horrified screams, thankfully muffled by the pillow stuffing, I pull myself up, check my makeup, and leave my apartment.
Even at my age, buying a pregnancy test is daunting. I feel like everyone in the store is staring at me, judging me for my life choices. It feels just as weird and uncomfortable as buying a pack of condoms as a woman.
The cashier doesn’t say anything besides the customary greetings, but it still feels like she’s thinking bad things about me. Doesn’t every woman feel this way, or is it only me?
I put the pregnancy test in my purse, needing to wait until I have more time to take it later today. Really, I’m not ready to find out if I am pregnant or if I dodged the proverbial bullet and my body’s only playing tricks on me.
Tate’s waiting outside Mount Sinai, leaning against a column near the entrance. My older cousin always looks so put together. She’s cool under pressure and always has a flawless face of makeup, even when the world is crumbling around everyone else.
“You made it on time,” she says, pushing away from the building to kiss my cheek. “I figured you’d be a few minutes late.”
“I left as soon as your text came in,” I tell her as I wrap my arm around her back, hugging her to go along with the cheek kisses.
I leave out the bit that I’m so damn nervous I might be pregnant that I power walked here from the parking garage blocks away. I have too much energy to burn. When I’m upset, exercise is the only thing that keeps my overactive mind from spiraling out of control.
“I’m so excited to see Zoey’s baby. She had a rough labor. She could use a little cheering up,” she says as we walk through the revolving doors into the lobby.
“I can’t imagine,” I tell her.
Childbirth has always scared the living crap out of me. I never understood how an entire human being could come out of another person. Sure, they’re little, but still. It truly is a miracle that a woman can survive such a thing, but I know sometimes they don’t.
“No childbirth is easy. Our bodies go through a lot, but some are definitely worse than others,” she continues.
I bite my tongue, wanting to tell her to stop talking about it. The calmness I was able to achieve walking over here has now vanished. Every word coming from Tate’s mouth makes my heart race a little faster, and I’m beginning to sweat.
“How’s Wylder?” I ask her, wanting to change the subject.
“He’s good as always,” she replies.
“Wait up,” a rushed voice says from behind us.
We turn at the same time, finding Iris running toward us like her ass is on fire.
“Shit, you two walk too fast,” she wheezes as she tries to catch her breath.
“Babe, you okay?” Tate grabs on to Iris’s arms and holds her steady as she nearly hyperventilates.
“These damn shoes,” Iris says, pulling in air through her nose before exhaling through her mouth. “They weren’t meant for long distances.”
My gaze drops to her feet, which are covered in the most beautiful pair of stiletto-heeled boots. “You need some kicks or at least a pair of flats,” I tell her.
She rolls her eyes. “Brax bought these for me as a gift, and my dumb ass thought today would be a great day to wear them.”
“Those are dinner boots or at least some activity that involves sitting. Walking in the city after finding parking blocks away is not the occasion for those bad boys.”
“I know,” Iris groans. “I’m going to need a foot rub tonight. It’s a good thing Brax has such skillful hands.”
I wince and throw up my hands to stop her. “I don’t want to know.”
Iris chuckles and wraps her arm around me. “Fine. Let’s get moving. We have a baby to see, and there’s a chair in that room that’s calling my name.”
Tate and Iris continue the small talk as we walk. I stay quiet, letting my mind wander to all the possibilities. There are only two. I’m either way too stressed out, or I’m pregnant. That’s about all there is, but which one is more likely?
Besides the night in Vegas, about which the details are still sketchy at best, I haven’t slept with anyone in over a year.
Sure, it only takes once, but Reed and I aren’t even sure we had sex that night.
We woke up naked, but we were both so drunk, I’m not sure we could’ve completed any task, including sex.
“Hello,” Tate says as we walk into the room. “We’re here.” I nearly ram straight into Tate’s back when she comes to a screeching halt not even two feet into the hospital room. “Why are you crying?”
“They’re getting married,” Zoey cries, but the words are garbled as she wipes at her cheeks.
“You are?” Iris gasps.
“Yep. In two months in the Bahamas,” Lizzy replies.
Tate moves, finally allowing all of us into the room. “Oh, I love it there,” she tells Lizzy. “I’ll mark my calendar.”
The word calendar damn near sends me into a tailspin. I’m immediately brought back to the sinking feeling from this morning when I realized I was months late.
“Sorry, sis. This one is just for us,” Mason tells her.
Tate’s shoulders slump. “It’s okay. It’s not a good time anyway with the kids. It’s harder and harder to get away lately.”
I take a seat opposite everyone, picking at my fingernail polish because I have nervous energy to burn. My eyes lock on the baby in Zoey’s arms.
Will this be me in a few months? Would the universe be that cruel?
“What’s the face for?” Mason asks, and when no one answers, I glance his way, realizing he’s talking to me.
“What?” I ask him.
“You look like someone broke your favorite toy,” he replies.
“They kind of did,” I whisper.
“What the hell does that mean?” Zoey asks, her eyebrows furrowed as she stares at me.
I cover my face with my hands, feeling my eyes filling with unshed tears. “I think I’m pregnant.”
“What?” Mason’s voice is higher-pitched than normal, and his eyes are bugging out of his head.
“Amelia, are you sure?” Iris asks, touching my arm.
“She’s not sure. She said she thinks,” Tate tells her. “Have you taken a test?”
I shake my head.
“Then why do you think you’re pregnant?” Mason asks.
“Men,” Tate mutters. “Obviously, she missed a period, genius.”
“Oh,” Mason mutters. “Doesn’t that happen all the time, though? I mean, I don’t have the parts…”
“It does happen sometimes,” Lizzy tells him, leaning against his side. “And every time it does, our first thought is that we’re pregnant.”
“It’s happened to you?” he asks her.
She nods. “A few times, but no baby.” Lizzy turns her attention toward me. “Maybe you’re the same. You’ve been doing a lot lately.”
“Have you even slept with anyone?”
“What does sleeping have to do with anything?” asks Amira, Zoey’s soon-to-be stepdaughter, who’s way too young to be overhearing this conversation.
“It’s when the seed is planted,” Hunter tells her.
“You go to sleep next to someone, and that’s when the seed is planted?” she asks, wanting clarification.
“Yeah, baby,” he says, stroking her hair.
“Sweet Jesus,” I mutter. If only it were that easy and less complicated than everything I’ve been dealing with.
“When did this happen? You haven’t been with anyone in…” Iris’s voice trails off.
“Vegas,” I mutter.
Tate gasps. “You’re going to have a Vegas baby?”
“Shut up,” I tell her, hating the sound of that.
“Who’s the guy? Do you even know his name?” she goes on, not listening to my request for her to zip her lips.
“I know him,” I tell her, dropping my face back into my hands. “We text sometimes.”
“We need to get you a test as soon as possible,” Tate adds.
“I have one,” I mumble against my palm. “In my purse.”
“Take it. Right now,” Tate orders me.
I peer up, narrowing my eyes on her. “I’m not ready.”
“No one ever is. Doesn’t matter what the circumstances are, everyone is scared in some fashion. You’ll feel better once you know it’s negative.”
She’s right. I’m driving myself crazy with anxiety, thinking the worst-case scenario possible. All I need to do is take the test, see the negative, and move on with my life.
It’s not healthy for me to live in a constant state of stress right now. If that’s what’s causing my period to be late, I’m already over my body’s limit.
“You can use my bathroom,” Zoey offers. “Tate’s right. It’s better to know now.”
I sniffle, pushing back the tears that, once they start to fall, I won’t be able to stop. Get yourself together, Amelia. It’s going to be negative. I do this to myself sometimes. I worry over something, fixate on it, and then my fear doesn’t come true, and it was all for nothing.
“We’ll all be here for you, no matter what, babe,” Tate tells me.
I grab my purse off the floor before climbing to my feet on wobbly legs. “I’ll be back,” I tell them. “Wish me luck.”
I peer down at baby Indigo as I walk toward the bathroom on the other side of the room. She’s truly beautiful. Zoey’s lucky, as are my other cousins who have children, but more importantly, they have partners in their lives to help them.
What will I have?
Nothing.
Not even a memory of the blessed event that created my child.
Not a boyfriend.
An ex-husband who left me with an infant and a hangover, but nothing more.
I seal myself up in the bathroom, locking the door for whatever stupid reason. It’s not like anyone is going to walk in on me, but I want privacy for one of the most life-altering moments of my existence.
I scan the directions before I follow them to the letter. I pee on the stick, and instead of leaving the test in the bathroom, I stay with it. I give myself the five minutes that are needed for a result to completely lose my shit. I cry, covering my mouth with my hand to muffle my sobs.
Am I overreacting? Probably. But this is a huge deal. Bringing a human into this world is a big responsibility and will completely alter my life now and for my entire future. Sure, I have a supportive family, but they won’t be there at my side every minute of every day.
And what if I am? Do I tell Reed? If I do, he’ll feel the need to stay with me, and I don’t want that. Neither of us was in our right mind when we got married. Why should his future be changed as much as mine because we had sex? It wouldn’t be fair to him.
He wanted the marriage over as much as I did. We wanted to put this in the past. I can give him that even if I’m not able to have it for myself.
When the timer on my phone goes off, I wipe my face, blow my nose, and dry my eyes. No matter what the test says, I will be okay. I will survive. I’ve known plenty of single moms in my lifetime, and they are all amazing, strong women. I can do that. This isn’t life-ending, only changing.
I stare at myself in the mirror for a few seconds as me, Amelia. A single entity without much responsibility. But I know if the test is positive, my entire world will change on a dime.
My hand shakes as I reach for the test and flip it over. My eyes widen as they land on the results window and find a +.
World rocked.
I’m no longer me. I’m an us.