Page 79

Her eyes narrow, and there is sadness in them. Or worry. It’s hard to tell—and clearly, I am not as good at reading her as I thought. I thought she wanted more, too.

Should I tell her how I feel?

No.

You can’t.

She’s not feeling well. There is a lot going on.

Don’t add this awkward pressure. It will make things more tense between the two of you if she knows you want more from her and she doesn’t want the same thing.

I stand up, smiling, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “I better get dressed,” I chuckle dryly. “When you’re feeling better, you can go over the Miron info with me and tell me what puzzle pieces you’ve fitted together. We can work on a plan,” I say, thinking it’s what she wants.

She nods and smiles too, tense, uncomfortable. “Okay.”

I should leave her in peace.

I grab a pair of pants and slip them on, then hurry from the room.

As much as I want to sit next to her and pull her into my arms, let her sleep on my chest while I watch her beautiful face, I’ve clearly overstepped her bounds. I need to pull back and be respectful of what she wants.

Chapter 22 - Lara

It’s been two days, and I’m not feeling any better. I’m still under the weather, but it’s not something I can pinpoint. It comes and goes, and sometimes it’s nausea, and sometimes it’s dizziness.

Nestor, even though he was reluctant, had to go into the office today. I reassured him I was feeling better, but I’m not.

I’ve been on the internet for the past fifteen minutes searching for my symptoms. And one option keeps popping up even though it’s probably the last thing I need to find out right now.

I might be pregnant.

After another website leads me to a link for buying a pregnancy test, I huff loudly and put my phone down.

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I come to the conclusion that since the seed of an idea has been planted, I am not going to stop worrying about it until I take a pregnancy test. At least it will ease my concern.

I can pop in at the pharmacy and even ask the pharmacist what else it might be.

With my mind made up, I climb out of bed and get dressed—might as well do it now.

It’s a twenty-minute drive, which I actually enjoy. I roll the windows down and listen to the sounds of the city, people moving about, on their way to work, grabbing coffee, smiling, scowling, laughing, and talking.

I’ve been cooped up in bed trying to get ‘better,’ but I might not be sick.

I get lucky and find a parking spot right outside the pharmacy.

It’s not too busy inside, and once I’ve found two different types of pregnancy tests, I head to the counter to talk to the lady standing behind it.

She spots what I’m buying and smiles.

“Will that be all for you today?”

“I’ve been feeling a bit weird lately. I looked online and this was the suggested reason, so I’m getting these, but what else could it be?”

She asks me my symptoms and gives me a knowing grin. “That is the best place to start. And I don’t want to suggest anything else until you’ve done that test, because you don’t want to take the wrong meds while being pregnant.”

When she says ‘pregnant’, I glance nervously behind me.

She notices, and her face softens. “Sweetheart, whatever the outcome is, it’ll be okay. There is a staff bathroom in the back if you want to do the test now, quickly. It’s not for the public, but I’ll unlock it for you. Then, if it’s notthat,I can see what else I can give you? Also, you don’t need to do two tests. This one is very realizable.”