Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Now, it’s obvious another part of me was trying to send the main, stupid part of me a message.
I crawl over to the sink, open the cabinet, and fish the pregnancy tests out. I stare at the box, barely able to read the words through the tears filling my eyes. I don’t know how I ended up here in my best friend’s bathroom, throwing up, wondering if I might be knocked up, no money to my name, no apartment, barely any stuff, but here I am.
I didn’t think I could get any lower.
But apparently, I was wrong.
It took Johnnie a couple days to spin the story in his favor. I tried to fight back despite walking out of work that first day, but in the end, I got sacked and Johnnie got demoted. After losing that job, I had no choice but to give up my old apartment, since I had no money and no source of income anymore. Fortunately, Kathryn’s letting me sleep on her couch until I get back on my feet. Which means daily, grueling job interviews, none of which have panned out so far.
Week after week of rejection.
Doesn’t help that my last employer has nothing good to say about me.
“Pee on a stick,” I whisper to myself as I rip open the packaging. “Simple, right? Easy. I can do it.” I sit on the toilet, blinking back tears, and get to work.
It doesn’t take long. Two minutes of staring in gut-wrenching anticipation until the little lines appear.
I read the instructions a dozen times, making sure it’s right, and even take the second test to be sure.
Pee. Wait. Lines.
“Kathryn?” I stand in the bathroom door, tears rolling down my face, the tests held up.
She gapes in shock, hurries over, and takes them from me. “Oh, god, Dara,” she says and pulls me into a rough hug.
I cry a lot. I’m not ashamed of it. I’m at my lowest, at my absolute worst, and now I’m finding out that I’m pregnant.
How did I let this happen? How could I have been so stupid?
I can’t even take care of myself, much less a baby, but apparently there’s one growing inside of me at the moment.
“I know what you want to ask,” I say to her as we sit on the couch. I dab at my face with tissues, feeling like a kid. She called into work and took the day off, which makes me love her so much. I really don’t deserve her. “I can tell you, I haven’t been with anyone but Finn.”
“You two used a condom though, right?” Kathryn chews on her nails. She’s small, brown hair, big blue eyes. Every single guy in the world calls her cute, which drives her absolutely insane. She’s a talented pianist, but right now she’s working the front desk at a museum.
I stare at the floor and shake my head. “Slipped my mind.”
“Dara,” she groans. “Okay, okay, I won’t chastise you. I know how bad things have been for you lately, and I guess you weren’t thinking straight that night. Understandable, given the situation.”
“I had just found out about the Lucas stuff. I met Finn like two minutes after seeing my bank account for the first time.” I bury my face in my hands. “How could I have been so stupid?”
“You were emotional,” Kathryn says, hugging me tight. “It’s okay. We can handle this. I mean… do you want to… handle it?”
I shake my head, feeling a cold, black horror in my belly. “You mean, like, take care of it?” I whisper as though saying the word out loud will somehow make things worse.
“I’m just putting the option out there, sweetie.”
I chew on my cheek, considering. I’ve thought about this before—I’m sure every woman has at some point—and I always assumed I’d never, ever get an abortion. I still feel that way, even now, even sitting on this couch with no prospects and a baby on the way.
Who the hell is going to hire me now?
“I can’t,” I whisper, which only makes me cry harder.
Kathryn’s there for me. She makes some coffee, even makes me something to eat. I pick at the waffles and drink a little bit, since I think I’m not supposed to have too much caffeine. I need to find a doctor, start taking vitamins, all that stuff. Thank god I haven’t been drinking lately. I haven’t been able to afford it, and Kathryn doesn’t keep anything in the apartment.
“What about the father?” she asks, cradling her mug in both hands. “The Finn guy. What do you know about him?”
“Not much,” I admit. “We didn’t go into details. He has a weird family. He’s apparently engaged now.”
“Oh, god, that’s right. The arranged marriage.” She wrinkles her nose. “Who the hell does that?”
“I don’t know. He said his family is complicated, but—” I shrug, at a total loss. “All I have is a card.”