Page 21 of Anti-Hero (Kensingtons: The Next Generation #2)

P aper crinkles as my heels bang against the bottom of the exam table.

Crinkle. Bang. Crinkle. Bang. Crinkle. Bang. A symphony of stress.

I’ve been sitting here, alone, ever since the nurse left, waiting for Dr. Bailey to come back in and confirm what two tests—not to mention a temperamental stomach, sore boobs, and no period—already told me.

I got through the invasive questions and the internal exam. And the peeing in a cup. The hard part of this visit is over with, right?

Not according to the nerves tumbling around in my stomach like clothes during a spin cycle. I’ve been stuck in a permanent state of anxiety since last weekend, walking around with this invisible weight. Cursing my shitty luck.

New York was supposed to be a fresh start after Isaac’s cheating.

Job-searching the first time was miserable enough.

Doing so again, this time having to explain the blip on my résumé at Kensington Consolidated?

And possibly considering each company’s maternity leave policy?

Feels like a really high mountain I have no desire to climb.

The door finally opens, revealing Dr. Bailey. She gives me an apologetic smile. “Hello again. Sorry for the wait.”

I push a, “No problem,” past stiff lips as she takes a seat in the swivel chair next to the exam table. My palms are so damp that they’re sticking to the paper I’m sitting on.

Dr. Bailey extracts a sheet of paper from the folder she’s holding. “The bloodwork and urine test both confirm that you’re pregnant.”

The news I was expecting, but it still feels like the air was knocked out of my lungs. I nod, blinking rapidly. I haven’t said I’m pregnant aloud to anyone except myself, but hearing Dr. Bailey say it feels very real.

This is real.

This is happening.

The last shred of hope has shriveled up. We’re no longer discussing a hypothetical.

Dr. Bailey’s expression is sympathetic. “I take it, this pregnancy was unplanned?”

My laugh is thin and watery. “Yes. Very unplanned.”

“Based on the date of your last period, you’re six weeks along. ”

Six weeks. Based on the date of my last period.

I didn’t even know that was how due dates were calculated. I figured you just added nine months to the day you had sex. That’s how unprepared I am for motherhood.

“Okay,” I whisper because I think Dr. Bailey is expecting some acknowledgment.

“That puts your due date at May 18.”

“Okay,” I repeat.

Dr. Bailey pats my knee. “I know this is all very overwhelming, Collins. If it’s any consolation, I’ve had patients who were actively trying to conceive sit here, shocked.”

That does make me feel a little better. But the primary emotion is still panic.

“Would you like to discuss different options?”

I shake my head. “No. I know—I know what my options are. I just … I need to think. Decide if I’m going to … stay pregnant.”

That phrasing sounds better than any mention of the B-word. I’m already pregnant. Staying pregnant sounds manageable. Way less terrifying than saying the words I’m having a baby out loud. But one is on repeat in my head. Baby , baby , baby , baby , baby . Such a small, short, scary word.

“All right. Here’s some literature, in case you want to take a look at it later.” She pulls out a pile of prepared pamphlets, setting them on the exam table.

“Thank you.”

“And we’ll go ahead and schedule your first ultrasound. Those appointments fill up fast, but we can always cancel if need be.”

I nod .

“Is the father in the picture?”

“I-I don’t know,” I admit.

I almost told Kit. He was staring at me this morning, confident and concerned , when I told him about this appointment, and I almost blurted it out. In that moment, it felt like telling him would be a relief. I wouldn’t be alone in this any longer.

But I couldn’t get the words out.

I wasn’t positive I was pregnant yet, and I wasn’t sure what I’d do if I was.

It’s not as if Kit is a guy I can easily never see again.

Setting aside the work situation, he’s Lili’s brother.

Unless I end my friendship with her and leave New York, there will always be a chance our paths will cross.

What if I tell him, decide not to keep it, but he wants me to?

What if I tell him, decide to keep it, and he thinks I shouldn’t?

This is a big—maybe the biggest —decision you can make with someone. And that someone is usually a spouse or some sort of significant other.

I like Kit. I’m starting to respect him. But telling him this will be a lot more vulnerable than him seeing me naked. A risk, and I’m someone who prefers to play it safe.

And setting aside the emotional aspect, he’s a Kensington.

After living with Lili for a year and working at Kensington Consolidated for several weeks, I have a strong sense of what that means.

They’re widely considered to be the most important, prestigious family in the country.

Unfortunate circumstances—like an accidental pregnancy—don’t happen to people like that. If they do, they’re dealt with.

Dr. Bailey is waiting patiently. I’m sure she has other patients to visit, but she’s not projecting any sense of urgency. There’s no judgment on her face.

I didn’t want to discuss my options because I’d already decided.

I think it’s why I’ve been panicking so much—because the hard part isn’t over. The hard part is the next eight months to eighteen years.

I swallow hard. “How soon can you do a paternity test?”