Page 36 of Red King (The Dragon Tributes #7)

36

P aisley

I look longingly at the Reese’s Cups but manage to walk straight past them. Yes! I can do this. I have great willpower.

I look down at my shopping cart. I have everything I need, including a box of tampons and some sanitary pads.

All I need now is the eggplant, and we’ll be all set.

I walk through the meat section. It smells weird and not in a good way. I sincerely hope they’re sanitizing all the fridges properly.

My stomach gives a little lurch, which I ignore.

Then I reach the fish section, and the smell hits me right in the back of my throat. It happens so quickly that all I can do is turn to the side so that the vomit doesn’t go into my cart.

Orange juice, together with the sandwich I had for lunch, spatter all over the tiled floor.

“Oh no,” I mutter as I search for a Kleenex in my purse. As soon as I find them, I dab a wad against my mouth. My stomach rolls with more nausea.

Shit!

One of the staff members sees the mess and gives me a dirty look.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” I tell him. He looks to be around sixteen. I consider offering to clean the mess but my stomach clenches again. For a moment, I think I’m going to be sick a second time.

No. Crap!

I gag but somehow manage to swallow it down. I look at my cart and then at the exit. By now, my cheeks are burning with embarrassment.

I still feel sick, so I walk to the exit as quickly as I can, holding a hand to my stomach and the tissues to my mouth. Screw the groceries.

“Clean up in aisle six. I repeat, clean up in aisle six,” blares over the tinny sound system.

I cringe as I rush for my car.

Before I can get there, I retch again, this time into the bushes by the side of the parking lot. It’s not a pretty sight, but at this point, I don’t care. I get it all out.

I didn’t think I’d consumed this much. Where is it all coming from?

After I’m finished, I sit on the curb and try to catch my breath. I pull out a fresh Kleenex.

My stomach is still roiling, which is insane. My heart is pounding in my chest. I feel sweaty and hot. What the heck is happening to me?

The sound of someone coming toward me snaps me out of my daze, and I look up to see an elderly woman with a shopping cart. She stops in her tracks, looking concerned as she takes me in.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asks gently, her eyes soft with compassion. “Do I need to call management?” She looks over at the store.

I shake my head, trying to form words. “I’m fine,” I manage to sputter out. “I’m pretty sure I have that mean stomach bug that’s making the rounds.”

I spoke to one of my ex-colleagues and the ER has had several cases a day being admitted. Mostly kids but the odd adult, too.

“Oh, yes.” She nods. “My great-grandchildren are all home sick with it. Best you get home, dear.”

I nod and stand on wobbly legs. “I’m actually feeling slightly better.”

“That’s good. Get into bed and drink plenty of fluids.”

“I will. Thank you.” I get in the car and head home. Thankfully, it isn’t a long drive.

After rinsing my mouth and brushing my teeth, I jump into bed. The nausea is back, but it’s manageable this time.

I need rest.

It doesn’t take me long to fall asleep, and I must crash hard because Becs shakes me awake. Looks like I slept for three hours solid. I even have dried up, crusty drool on the side of my mouth, which I wipe away. Gross!

Fortune and Cookie are at the door; they give me a forlorn look.

“Oh, shit,” I mutter, sitting up. “I haven’t taken you guys out.”

“Forget the dogs. They’re fine. Is everything okay with you?” Becs looks concerned.

I shake my head. I tell her what happened at the store. “I’m sorry, but I ran out without buying anything. Now I’ve slept the whole afternoon away. I haven’t made dinner or taken the poor dogs for a walk. I think I’m coming down with something,” I grumble. “It isn’t fair because soon I’m going to be bleeding like a stuck pig as well as having a tummy bug, which is a bit of a double whammy, if you ask me.”

Fortune whines at the door.

Becs is looking at me strangely. “Have you actually started your menstruation?”

I look down at the comforter. “I don’t know. Maybe. I hope not.” I widen my eyes. “I don’t think so.” I’m sure I’d feel it if I was bleeding everywhere. “It’s going to happen soon. My breasts have that feeling.”

“Heavy and sensitive?” She lifts her brows.

“Yep.” I start to get up.

“Stay in bed,” Becs tells me.

“I can’t. I need to go back to the store. Although, I don’t think they’re going to let me in. I’m sure they’ve stuck a picture of me at the entrance next to the sign that says, ‘Admission Reserved.’”

She chokes out a laugh. “I highly doubt it. Stay right where you are. You aren’t well.” She puts her hand on my forehead, feeling for a fever.

I get all teary.

She cocks her head at me. “Why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

“Because I am about to cry. Becs, you’re going to make the best mother.” I sniff, wiping my eyes. “Don’t mind me. I hate having my period. It always makes me emotional.”

“You cry whenever you have your period?” She frowns.

“No…but…it…I…” I shrug. “I’m feeling emotional, that’s all.”

“Here’s the plan: Dave will be home in half an hour. I’m going to send him to the store to get everything we need, including your tampons.”

I gasp. “You can’t send your poor fiancé to buy my tampons. That wouldn’t be right at all.” I shake my head.

“If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll go to the store and get every darned thing on the list. He can take the dogs along so that they get an outing. When he gets back, I will help him cook dinner. If you have a tummy bug, then you need to stay here in bed.”

“No, you—” I shake my head.

“You are not well.” She looks at me strangely. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“Where are you going?” I ask, but she leaves without further explanation.

Cookie looks at me like I killed his best friend. “Don’t make me feel worse. I’m sorry, okay?”

Fortune whines again just as Becs returns. She has something in her hand. I’m pretty sure I know what it is. I’m not sure why she has it.

“Ummmm…what is that?” I ask in an unsure voice.

“It’s a pregnancy test. I had two left out of a box of five I bought. I didn’t trust the doctor, so I took three more tests after I got home, just to be sure.”

“Why do you have it…in your hand? We know you’re pregnant.” I sound completely confused because I am.

“It’s for you.”

I choke out a laugh. “Are you kidding me right now? I’m not doing a pregnancy test.” I sound downright indignant because how dare she? How dare she? “I’m not pregnant. I can’t get pregnant, remember?” I snort in irritation.

“Miracles happen. There are plenty of kids running around out there who were never supposed to be born. Let’s go over your symptoms, shall we? You’re tired, emotional, your sense of smell is off, same as mine, you’re nauseous and bloated with sensitive breasts. Did you use protection when you slept with your CEO?” She narrows her eyes.

My mouth has fallen open. “No, but I didn’t have to because—”

“Holy shit, Paisley.”

“I don’t need to use protection, Becs, because I’m infertile.” I raise my voice because she’s being an idiot. “I was given less than a ten percent chance of falling pregnant with IVF and zero chance without it. Zero,” I repeat.

“It happens.”

My eyes fill with tears again. “Not to me. I’m broken, Becs.”

“I hate it when you say that about yourself.” She gets a stern look. “Just take the damned test. Prove me wrong if you’re so sure.”

“I don’t want to.” I sound like a petulant child, but I don’t care. “Even looking at that thing is triggering to me.” I gesture toward the wrapped stick. “Do you know what it’s like to take negative test after negative test?” My eyes are streaming with tears. I can’t help it. “I can’t take the test. I swore I would never take a pregnancy test ever again. I have a stomach bug. I’ve put on some weight.” I shrug, sniffing. “And to top it all off, I’m about to get my period. That’s all it is.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through so much. I really am. But I still need you to pee on the stick. You’re very sure you’re not pregnant, so we’ll expect a negative result. You won’t get hurt that way.”

“I will.” I look at the test like it’s the devil. “I can’t help myself. I’m already feeling sad, and I haven’t even taken the stupid test yet.”

“I’m sorry, Paisley. You had unprotected sex, and you have pregnancy symptoms. You need to do this, just to be sure.”

“Fine,” I growl and grab the test. I stomp into the bathroom and pee on the stick. Then I wrap it in toilet paper, drop it on the counter, wash my hands, and go back out.

“Done. Are you happy now?” I glare at her.

“Yes, thank you.”

I instantly feel bad for being such a bitch and say, “You’re welcome.”

“So that’s two minutes we have to wait.” She starts to set a timer on her phone.

“Don’t bother.” I hold up a hand. “I know exactly how long two minutes is. At this stage of the game, I’ve taken several hundred tests in my lifetime. And I also don’t even have to look at that thing to know it’s negative.” I use my head to gesture to the bathroom. “It will be.”

“That’s fine, Paisley. Let’s get the negative and move on. Dave can pick up your tampons.”

We stand there. Time ticks by slower than slow. When I know we hit around two minutes, I go inside the bathroom and hand Becs the test. “See! What did I tell you?”

She looks at the test.

“It’s a big fat negative. Can we just drop it now and—?”

“It’s positive,” she says, looking bewildered.

“No, it is not! Have you lost your ever-loving mind, as well as your eyesight?” I take the test from her and look at it.

It says “Pregnant” as clear as day.

I push out a heavy breath and stagger back a step. Then I throw the test; it hits the wall and falls face-down on the mat.

“What was that?”

“The test is wrong. It’s wrong.” I shake my head. “It’s old and expired.”

She frowns. “It isn’t old, and it isn’t wrong, Paisley. You can get a false negative, but you can’t get a false positive. You should know that as a nurse.”

“It’s wrong!” I push out. “It has to be. You said you had two tests. Where’s the other one? Please tell me you have another one.” I clutch her arm.

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. I’ll bring it.” She gives me a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t reassure me at all.

I start pacing while I wait. It isn’t true. It can’t be. I don’t buy it. No. Nope. No way.

“Here you go.” Becs hands me another test, which I rip open. “Are you going to be able to pee again so soon?”

“Just you watch me,” I say, going over to the toilet.

“I’d rather wait outside,” Becs tells me.

We go through the motions a second time, only this time, I pace. The seconds drag by.

I look over at Becs, and she looks at me. “Should we go and check it?” she asks.

I nod. I don’t want to. My legs feel like lead. What if it’s negative this time? It will be. I know it.

I suck in a deep breath and go inside the bathroom. My face is pale. I pick up the test, turn it over, and it’s positive. It’s freaking positive.

“How?” I whisper.

“When a man puts his penis inside a—”

I laugh. “I know how, you moron. How , though? It’s not possible. I can’t get pregnant.”

“Well, you are pregnant, Paisley.”

“No, don’t say that.”

“I can say it because it’s true. You’re knocked up. You have a bun in the oven. You’re with child. Pregnant. Preggo. Expectant.”

“Okay, okay.” I shake my head. My heart is pounding.

“I’m glad you stopped me there because I couldn’t think of any more terms for pregnant. What are you going to do? You probably need to let your CEO know at some point. You’re obviously keeping the baby.”

I nod. “Arctic, his name is Arctic, Becs, and yes, I probably need to let him know. Only…”

“Only what?” She frowns.

He’s dating other women.

He might have settled for one by now.

Maybe he’s engaged already.

Shit!

I’m probably too late.

“What is it?” Becs asks. “Is he married? Did you sleep with a married man? Is that it?”

“No!” I snort. “I would never do that. You’re right. I need to call him.” I pick up my phone. I need to do it before I chicken out.

“Right now?” She lifts her brows.

“Yes.” I nod. “Yes, right now.” I’m shaking.

“Probably a good thing. How do you think he’ll take it?”

“I have no idea.”

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it. I’m out there.” She points at the door to the living room. “Good luck.” She smiles again. Then she thinks better of it and comes over to hug me. “I think it’s great. Okay, I’m going now.”

Then she leaves.

I look at my phone. I stare at it. Then I go and get the other pregnancy test and stare at both of them.

This is real.

I’m really pregnant.

“Here goes nothing,” I mutter as I swipe to call Arctic.

The ringtone sounds. Crap! I’m making a mistake. I shouldn’t be calling him just yet. It’s too soon.

I have to or I might never pluck up the courage again in the future. I start to chicken out all over again.

I’m about to put down when he answers, “Paisley.”

His voice sends shivers up and down my spine.

“Who is that?” It’s Hannah. I recognize her voice instantly. She’s with him. They’re together.

Every bit of hope I was holding on to comes crashing down. I can barely breathe.

“Give me a minute.” He sounds gruff. “Hi! How are you? What’s going on?”

“Oh! No! Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Why did you call?” he asks. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s…um…good—”

“It was an accident,” I lie through my teeth. “I dialed you when I was supposed to have dialed someone else. My friend Arlene. I’m so sorry. I’m such a klutz.”

“Oh!” He sounds disappointed. It’s probably just my imagination. “Are you okay? You sound… Where are you?”

“In Cedar Pines. I’m staying with my best friend Rebecca; we went to school together.” Why did I tell him all that? It’s nerves; I’m babbling. “But I won’t be for long. I think I might have a new job.”

“Oh, that sounds great.”

“Yeah, um, over in Australia. I’m waiting to hear if I have the position.” More lies. At this point, I think I might be pathological. I need actual help. “I’ve kept you long enough. I’m so sorry to have bothered you.”

“Paisley, I—”

I put the phone down.

Crap! Crap! Crap!

That was terrible. Worse than terrible.

I go out into the living room.

Rebecca is sitting at the dining room table, making a list. I take a seat next to her.

“And? What did he say? How did it go?” She looks up, putting the pen down.

“I didn’t tell him.”

“Why not?” She frowns.

“He was with another woman.” I burst into tears.

“Oh, Paisley.” She scoots her chair over and hugs me.

I cry like an idiot for a few long minutes, and then I tell her what happened and how I panicked and put the phone down.

“Here’s a thought: maybe he wasn’t with her like that. It might have been innocent.”

I can’t tell her about the program or how Arctic is expected to settle down. “My friend, Maggie, told me that they were dating.”

“Oh.” Her face falls. “Didn’t take him long to move on.”

“We were casual. It was just sex.”

“Maybe for him.” She gives me a sad look. “I’m so sorry. You are the very last person who deserves to be hurt again.”

“It’s fine.” I wipe my eyes. “I’ll live.”

“You’ll still have to tell him at some point.” She makes a face.

“I know, but in hindsight, it was a bit soon to have called. I need to come to terms with this. Up until not so long ago, I didn’t think it would ever happen for me, and now…” I shrug, pulling in a deep breath.

“You’re pregnant.” She widens her eyes, grinning.

“Yes, I’m pregnant,” I test the words. It still doesn’t feel real. “I’ll go for a blood test and then book a sonogram for next week if they can squeeze me in. Once I see a heartbeat, I’ll tell Arctic.”

“That’s a good plan. Congratu—”

“Don’t say it.” I shake my head. “Don’t say it, Becs, please. And no one can know, not even Dave, please.”

“Why?” She takes my hand.

“I don’t have the best uterus. Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean it’s going to last.” I put a hand on my belly. “I’m terrified,” I whisper. “What if I lose—?”

“Stop that! Stop it right now. You are pregnant. You’re probably already a good seven weeks along.”

“Not far at all. The first trimest—”

“Stop. You’re healthy and strong. You also have a ton of nausea, which is great. My doctor said it’s a sign of high pregnancy hormones. It’s a good thing. You need to try to relax.”

“You’re right.”

“If it helps any, I’m also terrified. It’s normal.” She stands.

“Where are you going?”

“To make us some ginger tea and to get us a cookie or two. I don’t know about you but I’m starting to feel queasy.”

I nod. “Yep, I’m a little queasy. Thank you for being such a great friend.” I start tearing up again.

“Stop that, or I’ll start crying, too. Poor Dave will shit himself if he comes home to two crying women.”

I laugh through the tears. I’m a mess. A total mess.

I’m pregnant. I put a hand on my belly and say a prayer.