And it only got better from there. I didn’t think it was possible, but the last few weeks have been some of the best weeks of my life. I like myself better with him. My lip starts to tremble as I realize, all over again, that it’s done. The end arrived, and it arrived way too soon.
I thought, deluded fool that I was, that I could be ok with our relationship ending when I graduated. Nonsense. I wanted more. I still want more. I just don’t think I’ll get it.
Tommy’s not the only one who missed his shot tonight.
I start to brush my teeth and wash my face. Every movement brings back some painful memory of preparing for bed with Nate. I was uncomfortable with changing into pajamas and going through my nighttime routine at first, but within a few days, I was totally at ease. It felt normal to brush my teeth by his side at the sink, and then curl up in bed so we could both read for a bit before turning the lights off.
I dry the water from my face and start to rifle through my drawers for some moisturizer. I pause when I open the second drawer. It’s the one I keep my tampons in. I stare at the little blue box.
I look up and meet my own puzzled gaze in the mirror. It’s May. The first week of May.
Slowly, I move to the toilet, put the cover down and sit down on it. The day Nate came to fix my water heater was during the first week of April. I can’t remember which day precisely, but it was the very beginning of the month.
We had sex that day, with the condom. Then we had sex two days later, without a condom. That was the only time we didn’t use protection. I’m not on the pill or anything, but we risked it that once because I said I knew my dates.
I shut my eyes and stop breathing as I realize I must have miscalculated. Whatever I thought about the dates of my period that night was wrong. Because I haven’t gotten it all month.
In the heat of the moment, I must have lost track of time. I remember how desperate I was to have Nate inside me. A trivial thing like dates and weeks and menstrual cycles didn’t matter.
I look back at the drawer holding the tampons. My last period was sometime in March. So I should have gotten it by now. I can’t recall exactly when, it’s all so muddled, but it should definitely have happened. I’ve never been this late.
I press my fingers against my eyelids. How is this nightmare of a day and night still not over? I thought the evening was catastrophic before, but this development is truly earth-shaking.
I open my eyes and focus. I can’t jump to conclusions. I need to know for sure.
I stand up and head to my closet. I start to dig through my storage boxes. I know I have it somewhere. It was last year, and Becca was in a panic. She thought she might be pregnant. She hadn’t had unprotected sex, but she always got nervous about that kind of thing. She didn’t want to buy the tests herself though, so I told her I would get them. I wasn’t embarrassed because I wasn’t the one terrified of an unplanned pregnancy.
I purchased the box of the most reliable-looking tests at CVS, and I told Becca to meet me at my place. She did, and she took the test in my bathroom. Of course, she was not pregnant, so I shoved the box with the remaining tests somewhere in my closet, and we went out to dinner to celebrate.
At last, my hand lands on the box. My heart is racing as I pull out a test. I read the instructions about three times.
Then I go to the bathroom and pee. I leave the stick on my bathroom sink and pace around my tiny apartment.
I can’t think. I don’t know what I’ll do if it’s positive. I can’t think beyond the three minutes it takes for the test to have a result.
When the time is up, I poke my head into the bathroom. I pick up the stick, and I’m not even surprised. I think, on some level, I knew. Between the random throwing-up at the party and the realization that I’ve missed my period, I knew. The test just confirms it.
I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Nate’s child.
And everything is in shambles between us.
Tears prick at my eyes. I’m supposed to go to medical school this fall. I’m supposed to become a successful doctor, and then I’m supposed to have kids. It’s all supposed to be planned.
I blew up all those plans the second I begged Nate to enter me without a condom.
I know he would take some of the responsibility for it. He might even say he should take all the responsibility since I was a virgin two days before it happened. And yet I’m the woman. The female is always supposed to remember.
I take a deep breath and move my hand to my stomach. Of course, there’s no swelling. It feels as flat as always. The baby is probably smaller than a peanut. Just a tiny little conglomerate of cells really.
I don’t even know how I feel. The whole past two hours have been so long and emotional, I’ve used up all my processing abilities. I just feel stalled.
I can’t make a decision about this. Not right now. I need to tell Nate first. Only I have absolutely no idea how to tell him this.
Hey, I know you think I’m scum of the earth and all that, and I know you saw me kissing another man just now (although I have to tell you, I wasn’t actually kissing him, and it’s really you I’m in love with), but I have some other news: remember when we did it wihout a condom literally my second
