I sit on the toilet and wait for the pee to come, but when I think it will, I get bladder shy. Getting up, I walk over to the sink and turn on the water to get the urge to pee, but when I sit down, it goes away. "You better freaking pee." I look at my vagina. "And you better not be with a baby." I start to pee and then rush to put the glass in the stream. "I promise if this is negative, I will not have sex again without using double protection." I put the cup down on the floor and wipe myself. "At least no sex during ovulation," I add to the verbal contract I'm doing with whoever is listening. "Okay." I put the cup on the counter. "This looks like normal pee. Nothing looks pregnant." I laugh as I open all the boxes and start to put the sticks in the cup of urine. "Okay, three minutes." I look around for my phone and then realize I had forgotten it in the car. "Or I count to one hundred and eighty," I say, walking back and forth in my bathroom and counting to one eighty. "Here we go." I grab one and look down at the test. "Oh, fuck."
Chapter 4
Bennett
I press the disconnect button when I hear her voice mail come on. Putting the phone down, I see that it's just after four, so she might be in a meeting. I open the last text she sent me when she asked me if I felt okay. "Here are the files you asked for." Andrew, my assistant, comes in, handing me the manila folder. "Don't forget you have the weekly meeting in fifteen minutes."
"Thank you." I nod at him, opening the folder and scanning it. Fifteen minutes later, I'm walking into the conference room for the partners’ weekly meeting. "Gentlemen," I say, sitting down and grabbing a bottle of water. The meeting goes on for over two hours, and when I get back to my desk, I see that she hasn't called me back. It's not that weird, but usually, she would send a text with the word Busy.
Picking up my phone, I dial her number again, and it rings four times and then goes to voice mail. I smile when I hear her voice. "You've reached Presley Baker. I'm not able to take your call right now. Please leave me a message, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."
"Hey, gorgeous, it's me. Call me back," I say, hanging up the phone and then texting her.
Me: Are you okay?
"I'm going to head out." Andrew sticks his head into my office. "Unless you need anything."
"I think I'll be good,” I tell him. "Big plans this weekend?" When I came to the firm, I started with a female assistant. She was new to the firm, and she got a little bit too good at her job. Plus, she was giving off vibes that she wanted to be more than just my assistant. She would bring lunch in for us, and it just got to the point where I knew that if I didn't cut it now, it would get worse. So we had her transferred to another department, and she quit two weeks later. As soon as that happened, I knew that my next assistant would be a male to make it safe for everyone. When Andrew came in, we just clicked. The one thing that I liked about him was that he left his problems at the door.
"We have a wedding out of town," he says with a smile. "She's waiting for me downstairs."
"You should have told me." I lean back in my chair. "Get out of here."
"Thank you." He nods politely.
"Why don't you take Monday off also?" He looks at me shocked. "You've been working long hours. You deserve it."
"I won't say no." He puts his hands in his pockets. "But only if you're sure."
"I'm sure." I nod at him.
"Have a great weekend," he says right before he turns and walks out of the door.
I pick the phone back up, wondering if she texted me back, and she hasn't. I check my emails one more time before closing everything up and leaving. Grabbing my keys and phone, I walk out, and the thick air greets me right away. The sun is setting as I start the car. I give it a couple of seconds for the air-conditioning to kick in before I leave. I start heading to my house, then turn around, and before I know it, I'm heading to Presley’s work. The parking lot is empty, so I make my way over to her house, calling her once more and still getting her voice mail. What the fuck? I think, and I get this sense of dread that runs through me.
I speed halfway there, and when I see her car in the driveway, I take a deep breath, sighing with relief, knowing she's okay. I walk up the steps and press the doorbell instead of just barging in. I listen to see if I hear her footsteps, and I don't know if it's just me, but it feels like an eternity by the time she opens the door. But in reality, it must have been ten seconds. My head flies up to her face with a smile on it, and then my heart stops when I see her face. "What happened?" I ask her. Her eyes are red from crying, her nose is also red, and the light in her eyes is gone. "Are you sick?"
"I guess you can call it that," she says, turning around and walking inside the house. She is wearing shorts and a tank top, her black hair, which is always perfect, is piled on top of her head.
"What do you mean I can call it that?" I shut the door behind me and walk to the living room with her. I look around and see that all the drapes are closed, and the television is off. "Did someone die?"
"You can call it that," she says, sitting on the couch and folding her legs under her.
I put my hands on my hips, and my blood pressure is going through the roof. The tightness in my chest gets tighter and tighter. "Gorgeous," I say between clenched teeth. I can't remember the last time we disagreed about something. I mean, we bicker, but after like five minutes, I'm over it and just want to kiss her anyway. "You are really…"
"We need to talk," she says, and when she looks at me, I can see the turmoil in her eyes. I can tell that whatever she has to tell me is bad. I can also tell that whatever she has to tell me she doesn't know how to tell me. My heart sinks to my feet.
"Oh my God," I say in a whisper. "You're seeing someone else." My mouth goes dry at the question as the pain in my chest comes on full force. Yes, we aren't technically “dating” because I don't want to put a label on it, or else, I know she's going to freak out, but that is the first thing that came to my mind. I shake my head, trying to clear the image of her and someone else out of my brain. The left side of my arm starts to twitch, and I put my hand to my chest, thinking maybe this is me having a heart attack. "Do you smell burnt toast?" I ask her. Maybe I'm having a stroke.
"Really?" she says, rolling her eyes. "That's the first thing that comes to your mind?"
"I have no idea what to think since you aren't giving me anything." I throw my hands up in the air. "You're sitting there with tears in your eyes. You have no light in your eyes. You haven't made one snarky remark about me showing up here without calling. It's the only thing that came to mind."
"When would I have time to see someone else?" she asks me. "We literally sleep together every night.”
"Not every night," I remind her, thinking of the nights she leaves me because heaven forbid we get used to each other.
"I threw up today,” she tells me. I take a step to her, and she holds up her hand to stop me.