Page 69 of Badd Ass
It was a white plastic stick with a small oval opening in the middle and a tab on one end covered by a pink lid. To the left of the oval opening was the word “pregnant” with two vertical lines beside it, and then beneath that the words “not pregnant” with a single vertical line.
I stared at the stick, blinking. Processing.
The stick had two pink vertical lines in the opening.
I turned my head to look at Mara. “Um. Am I…am I—is this what I think it is?”
She nodded. “I’m pregnant, Zane.”
Everything inside me twisted, lurched, sank, and leapt all at once. “You’re pregnant.”
She nodded again. “Yes. That’s the eighth test I’ve taken, and I had a blood test at a doctor’s office.”
I swallowed hard. “You’re pregnant. With my—withourchild.”
She eyed me, and then turned her gaze to her feet, pulling away from me. “Yes. I’m—I’m sorry.”
There was so much going on inside me, in my head, in my heart, that I almost missed what she’d said. “Wait. Why are you sorry?”
She lifted one shoulder, a tiny, miserable gesture. “I—you…I mean, how does this work?”
I felt emotions rise up, fierce, sudden, and intense. I lifted her so she was sitting on my lap, cradled in my arms. “Mara. I flew to San Francisco to find you, because I wanted to be with you.”
She sniffled and looked up at me. “You did?”
“Well, yeah, of course.” I smiled down at her. “I want to be with you. I don’t know how this works, Mara, but I want us to try and figure it out. I want—I wantus. I wantyou.”
“You let me leave.”
I let out a harsh breath. “I was an idiot. I…I’m still not sure if I’m…if I’m good enough for you, but I’ll try. I can’t help but need you. I tried living without you, and I can’t do it.”
“Why wouldn’t you be good enough, Zane?” Mara asked.
I couldn’t quite look at her as I admitted to her what I’d barely admitted to myself. “I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be alive. The bullet that killed Marco…should have killed me. He should be alive with his wife and son, but he’s not, and I’m here, and I know logically it doesn’t make any sense, but I just…I feel—goddammit. I feel like I’m…like I’m not good enough for you. Like I don’t deserve to be alive, much less deserve someone like you.”
She took my face in her hands. “I know I can’t erase how you feel just by saying something wise or whatever, Zane. But…I’m glad you’re here. I’m sorry your best friend died, and I know that’s a scar you’ll bear forever, that’s pain you’ll never get over. You don’t have to, and you shouldn’t. He died, and you’re allowed to mourn him and miss him. But you’re not at fault. You don’t deserve to die just because he had a wife and kid to take care of. You’re alive, and I need you, Zane. I’m so, so glad you’re alive, that you’re…that there’s a chance for us. For this to work. I want—Ineedthis to work, Zane.”
I held her gaze. “And all I can say right now is that…I’ll try.”
“But I’m pregnant, Zane. I’m going to have a baby.” She slid off my lap and sat turned toward me, her gaze on mine wary but fierce. “I’m keeping it, Zane. That was never a question. I hope you understand that.”
“Nothing else even entered my mind, Mara.” I took her hands in mine. “We’ll just have to figure this out together.”
“I just moved to Seattle.”
“And I can’t leave Ketchikan.”
“So…how does this work?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, honey. I’m still in shock, but I know we can figure something out.”
“You’re not mad? You’re not…upset with me?”
I frowned. “We created a life together, Mara. That week with you, it…itmeantsomething. Shit—it meanteverything. Every time I was with you, they were the most incredible moments of my entire life. Some people might say what we did was irresponsible and reckless, but I can’t make myself care.” I palmed her cheek, my thumb brushing over her cheekbone. “You’re pregnant. Withmychild. We made that child in the most incredible week of our lives. How could I be mad or upset about that?”
She sniffled. “I was…I was so scared, Zane. I’m still scared. I don’t know how to do this! I don’t know how to…I don’t know how to be a mother. Hell, I don’t even know how to be agirlfriend.” She twisted, buried her face in my bare chest, and her shoulders began to heave. “I thought you’d be mad at me. I thought…I was afraid you’d resent me.”
“Why the hell would I be mad?”