“Are you talking about you and Dad?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
Her forehead creases. “Had I known you would have ended up right in the middle of all of this anyway, I don’t think I would have made the same choices. I would have insisted we take a different path.”
“You have no idea how much I wish you had,” I whisper, thinking of all the lost time with Dad—with the manor. With my gifts. Maybe having learned about them and the Moirai earlier would have been what we needed to overcome them.
What if now it’s too late?
“Mom, I can’t bring a baby in the middle of all of this,” I say, suddenly overwhelmed by the emotions clawing at my insides. “What in the hell am I going to do? We have to stop the Moirai—”
“Listen to me,” she says, gripping me by my shoulders. “We will find a way out of this. All of us, together.”
I nod frantically, hoping the truth in her words somehow finds a way into my soul, because right now, I’m feeling utterly helpless and alone. Raising my hand to my mouth, I sputter, “Oh, my god. Wade. How am I going to tell Wade?”
“Just relax. Sit with this a bit. Take that test, if you think it will make it easier. Then, wrap it up as a present and give it to him for Christmas,” Mom says, her expression thoughtful.
I glare at her from under my eyebrows. “That’s the cheesiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“And yet, I bet you don’t have a better plan.” She grins back.
I run my hand down my face.
“You’ll be fine, sweetheart. Whatever you choose—however you decide to tell him—it will be perfect.” She reaches past me, picking up the bag and facing my body toward the house.
We walk back, listening to the sound of our feet crunching in the snow. The closer we get, I’m a bundle of nerves as I try to figure out the best way to tell Wade. Do I do what Mom suggested, as corny as it is? Or do I find some other way to tell him?
What will he say? What will he think?
God, we never talked about this—any of it. Kids, marriage. It’s almost as if neither one of us could foresee a future where all of that existed.
I shudder at the thought, pulling my coat in tighter.
When we reach the house, I’m practically ready to head back in the other direction. Mom must sense my apprehension, too. As we walk inside, her gaze floats around the room to find Wade. When they land on him sitting on the couch, she hands me the bag and says, “Hey sweetie, can you bring the shampoo and toothbrush to the bathroom for me? Then, let’s get started on Christmas dinner. Wade, did you want to help, too?”
She walks away from me, allowing me the excuse to run to the bathroom while she occupies Wade with our next Christmas task.
I rush down to the bathroom, my nerves once again on high alert. For whatever reason, I’m more terrified to know if Mom is right than anything else. Give me the Moirai—let me face fate and death. Just please, don’t let me be pregnant. I can’t be…
Closing the door behind me, I make sure to flick the lock. I pull the toothbrush and shampoo out, placing them in plain sight in case Wade comes in later. I also carefully remove the pregnancy test and set it on the counter as gingerly as possible. Then, I stare at it as if it might catch fire any second.
My heart throbs, making my hands sweat. I wipe them on my jeans and reach for the box. Without allowing time to talk myself out of it, I rip the box open and pull out the test. The small plastic stick is one of the most intimidating tools I’ve ever seen—and that’s saying something. I have a mysterious, magic box in my possession, after all.
My hand shakes and I flip the box over, bending in to read the instructions. Because there’s no way I’m screwing this up.
I follow the instructions to the letter, then sit down on the edge of the bathtub to wait. I hold my breath, watching the second hand tick forward from the small clock on the countertop. When the time is up, I stare forward, unable to bring myself to look over the results just yet.
“Autumn—are you okay?” Wade calls out from the hallway, making me jump.
I stand up, clutching at my heart. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Were you sick again?” he asks, his voice close—clearly on the other side of the door.
“No, not at all. Just needed the bathroom,” I sputter, picking up the box and instructions so I can toss them into the bin. “I’ll be out in a second.”
“Okay, your mom is starting on the turkey. She goes all out for this Christmas stuff, huh?” He chuckles.
“Yeah,” I mutter, trying to calm my breathing down as I stare at the back of the door.
When I hear his footsteps echo away, I lean against the counter, staring one last time in the mirror before casting my gaze to the test.
Now or never.
I glance down. There are two pink lines clear across the little window.
Tears swell in my eyes and a sob escapes my lips.
Pregnant.
Oh, my god, I’m pregnant.
I inhale deeply, staring at the test. There’s no turning back. We have more than just ourselves to protect now.
Without thinking, I reach forward, shoving the test into my front pocket. Suddenly, the idea of wrapping it up and giving it to him for Christmas doesn’t seem so ludicrous after all.
I’ll find a way to sneak away
