The next thing I know, it’s dark and Bailey is telling me that we should go to bed. I allow her to pull me from the couch and up the stairs. She pulls the sheets back and tucks me in.
“You want me to stay?” she whispers when I reach for her hand.
“Please,” I whisper, and she immediately climbs into bed behind me.
“Everything will be okay, Harlow. I promise.”
I want to shout. I want to scream. How can anything be okay? Everyone has left me.
Everyone.
I drift off a few times, but when Bailey stirs a few hours after the sun rises, I’m staring at the wall in a daze.
“Harlow,” she whispers.
“Yeah?”
“How are you doing?”
I roll onto my back so I can stare at the ceiling for a change of scenery. My stomach rolls.
“Fuck,” I bark, jumping from the bed and racing toward my bathroom to throw up.
“Jesus, are you okay?” Bailey asks from the doorway when I’ve finished and slumped back against the wall.
“Yeah.” Pushing my sweat-damp hair from my face, I risk a look up at her.
Her brows are pulled with concern.
“You need to look after yourself,” she chastises. “You should get a shower and I’ll make you some breakfast. Which you will eat,” she adds in a stern voice.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes at her, but even doing that takes more effort than I’ve got right now. What I really want to do is crawl back into bed.
“Thirty minutes max, or I’m coming back to get you,” she warns before leaving me alone on the bathroom floor.
I love her to death, but right now, I wish she’d allow me to wallow in peace. I know she’s just doing what she thinks is best for me, but the thought of showering and attempting to be normal just seems wrong.
“Don’t you feel better now?” Bailey asks when I join her in the kitchen wearing a clean hoodie and yoga pants, and still with wet hair.
“No, not really,” I mutter.
I take a seat as she reaches into the cupboard for my mug and places it under the coffee machine.
“You want a strong one?”
“Please.”
I really fucking need a strong one. My eyes are swollen from the crying and burning from the lack of sleep, and my body feels like I’m trudging through mud just simply walking.
Only, when she places the steaming mug in front of me and the scent of the coffee beans hits my nose, I dart for the sink.
“Okay, that’s it. I’m not ignoring it this time.”
“What?” I mutter, reaching for a glass so I can rinse my mouth.
“Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”
My eyebrows almost hit my hairline. “What?”
“Is there any chance—”
“I heard you, I’m not fucking deaf.”
“Sorry,” she mutters. “Well, is there?”
“No, I’m due on… wait, what day is it?”
“Saturday.”
“Um…” I say, stalling for time as I try to get my brain to function, to work this out.
“Harlow?”
“I was due on… Tuesday.” Fuck. I’m never late. Never. “It’s probably just the stress of this week,” I say in an attempt to push the idea aside, but I can tell by the look on Bailey’s face that she’s not going to forget about this.
“Put some shoes on, we’re going to the store.”
“I’m sure it’s fine. Just give it a day or two.”
“So you’ll be a week late? No. Get your shoes.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Unless you just so happen to have a test in your bedroom.”
“Of course I don’t. Before C-Corey,” I stumble over his name, not wanting to allow thoughts of him and how we left things to enter my head, “I hadn’t had sex in forever. There was no way in hell I’d have been pregnant unless the myth about sitting on the same chair as a guy is actually true.”
“You used protection, right?” I can tell from the firm set of her lips that she’s about to give me a lecture if I say no.
“Of course.” I think. I know we went without this past weekend, but I was due on my period and it was as safe as it could be.
But that first night…
There were condoms. I remember watching him rolling them on. Hell, I remember doing it myself. I also remember standing on one as I made my escape. But did we use one every time? I’ve no idea, there was too much Macallan to remember it clearly.
“Really?” She juts her hip out.
Bailey might be reckless with some things, but she’s always safe where sex is concerned, or at least she claims to be. As far as I know, she’s not even had a scare, so she must practice what she preaches.
“I guess we’re about to find out.”
Thankfully, Bailey allows me to stay in her car while she runs into the store to get what we need.
When she emerges, it’s with the test, as promised, but also a huge bar of chocolate, the biggest tub of ice cream she could find, and a bottle of wine—that one is for her, obviously.
It’s not until we pull up back outside the house and my eyes land on my car parked in its spot outside that I remember he was the last one to use it.
“H-Has he been here?”
“I assume so. I didn’t actually see him. I found your keys on the doormat.”
“He borrowed it on Monday and was meant to pick me up again after work,” I say sadly.
“Have you heard from him?”
“I haven’t looked at my cell since Monday morning. It’s probably dead in my purse.”
“So he might have been ringing all this time?”
“I highly doubt it.” My voice is cold and empty. Exactly how I feel right now.
“Come on then. Let’s see what this says.”
“Do we have to?”
“You’d rather not know?”
“I think I might, yeah.”
“You can’t live like that. Knowledge is power.” Bailey climbs out of the car, but I don’t move. Not for a long few seconds, anyway.
With a deep sigh, I
