“Go!” she yells.
“What?” I ask, grinning at her.
“They’re chasing me!”
I look into the rearview mirror and sure enough, two guys are running down the block.
I laugh and peel out, leaving them in my dust.
“I can’t believe they actually chased you.”
“I know, right?” She laughs, breathless and pink from exertion. She looks so fucking beautiful, and I suddenly realize with a pang that I may be looking at the mother of my child. “They were trying to get me to stay, but you were right. They didn’t touch me.”
I grin at her. “I’m impressed.”
“Me too. I didn’t know I could run so fast.”
I laugh and drive us back to my apartment where the tests are waiting. We talk about her escape as we go, though I can tell we’re both just trying to avoid the real subject. When I’m parked, we head upstairs. She drops her stuff on the kitchen island and bites her lip.
I can tell she’s afraid. I wrap my arms around her and pull her tight against me. It feels so fucking good to be touching her after this long, torturous month. I kiss her hard on the mouth, enjoying her, tasting her, not thinking about the real reason she’s here.
We enjoy the kiss for as long as it lasts, and finally she breaks away.
“I’m nervous,” she admits.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I’m here for you.”
“Do you…?” She trails off and looks at me expectantly.
“In the bathroom,” I say. “There are a few tests in there. I did some research, I think I got you the best tests.”
She nods, taking a deep breath. “Is it too early?” she asks.
“No,” I say. “I think they say a week is the most accurate, but six days should be fine.” I take her hands and squeeze. “Do you want me to come with you?”
She nods a little. “Yeah. It’s embarrassing but… I don’t want to be alone.”
I smile and kiss her softly. “I think I can handle you peeing a little bit.” I grab a small juice glass from the counter. “Here.”
She looks at it, confused. “For what?”
“Pee in there,” I say, laughing. “Then you dip the stick.”
“Oh,” she says, nodding. “Of course. Makes more sense than trying to pee on the stick.”
I kiss her one more time and then she goes into the bathroom alone. She pees into the glass, and when she’s done, she calls me inside.
We stare at the little glass of her urine. She opens the first box, dips in the stick, and then we wait.
It’s an agonizing wait. Neither of us speaks. She stares at the stick and I wish I could read her mind in this moment. I wish she could read mine as well, because that way she’d know that I’d never leave her no matter what.
When the test finishes and it confirms that she’s pregnant, I surprise myself by laughing.
She looks at me, a little wide-eyed. “Why are you laughing?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I think I’m happy.”
She looks surprised. “You’re happy?”
I nod, grinning. “You’re pregnant! I never thought I’d be a father but… god, I’m going to be a dad. And you’re going to be the mom.”
She bites her lower lip. “You’re not mad? Or afraid?”
“Of course I’m afraid,” I say. “But mad? Not even a little bit.” I grab her hips and pull her against me. “You’re my girl, Sadie. I told you I’d take care of you.”
She smiles slightly and looks up at me. “Promise?”
“I promise.” I kiss her softly on the lips. “Now, let’s dip a few more sticks, just to be sure.”
She grins. “Okay. Sounds like fun.”
We spend the next hour taking the tests, mostly having fun with it. We kiss and laugh and talk, and each test comes up positive.
She’s definitely pregnant. By the end of it, we’re sitting out on the couch together, her legs in my lap, her arms around my neck. I kiss her softly on the lips.
“What do we do now?” she asks after a short somber silence.
I shrug. “What do you want to do?”
She pauses and looks at me. “Should I… you know,” she says.
I sigh. “I’ll support whatever you want to do, Sadie girl,” I say carefully.
“I know. But do you think I should? I mean, have an abortion.”
I smile softly. “I know what you meant. And I don’t know. Do you want to have an abortion?”
“No,” she says immediately, and then pauses. “No, I guess not.”
I smile broadly at her. “Good. I didn’t want you to, either. I just didn’t want to influence you too much. It’s your choice.”