Page 134 of His Darkest Obsession

Not again.

I can't think about it. I don't want to think about it. The possibility is terrifying and overwhelming all at once. My hands are still shaking, and I press them against the hard unfeeling stall divider in a vain attempt to ground myself.

Outside of the stall, the bathroom door opens again, and is followed a second later by the unmistakable sound of a lock turning.

"Indigo Malcolmovna?" Svetlana calls out softly from the other side of the stall.

Amara glances at me before unlocking the stall door. Svetlana steps in with a small Duane Reade bag in her hand. She reaches inside, pulls out a rectangular box, and hands it toward me.

A pregnancy test.

My stomach lurches again.

"I don't want to," I whisper, shaking my head. "I can't..."

"You have to, Miels," Svetlana says firmly, her voice gentle but leaving no room for argument.

I notice Amara looking at Svetlana with confusion in her eyes, questioning how this woman knows my childhood nickname. But she doesn't ask.

There are bigger things to worry about.

With trembling fingers, I take the test from Svetlana. She reaches back into her bag and pulls out two more boxes.

"I bought multiple ones," she explains. "Amara and I will also take one, just to be sure. And then you need to take another one."

I feel the hot sting of tears streaming down my face. This is all too familiar. Memories swirl with the present and everything blur together.

Finally, I nod.

When the stall door closes behind me, I stare down at the plastic stick in my hands. Is this really how I'm supposed to find out? In some cafe bathroom far from home, lost in the awful memories of my past with Valentina's threatening words echoing in my head?

But do I have a choice?

Have I ever had a choice?

Slowly, I sit down and take the test, following the instructions with mechanical movements. When I'm done, I step out of the stall, clutching the plastic stick like it might explode.

Svetlana offers to go next. As we wait, Amara and I look down at the test together.

Then, I see it.

The test falls from my hand and I collapse into Amara, my body wracking with sobs just like two years ago.

Two lines.

I'm pregnant.

A few minutes later, Svetlana emerges from the stall, holding her test stick.

"Negative," she says quietly, showing me the single line.

She takes one look at my tear-streaked face and wraps her arms around me. I cry silently against her shoulder, my body shaking with each sob. I feel like I'm drowning, like I'm back in that office two years ago, helpless and terrified.

"It's okay," Svetlana whispers, stroking my hair. "It's going to be okay."

But it's not. Nothing about this is okay. I want to yell at her that she doesn't know a damn thing about this. But what would even be the point?

It's not going to undo this.