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Something feels off when I wake up. It’s almost like I’m getting hit with the flu or something, like I didn’t sleep nearly long enough even though I got a solid eight hours of rest.

Cooper is still asleep beside me, and I shake him awake. “You need to be at the golf course in twenty minutes,” I say.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, and I laugh at his first word of the day. There’s just something cute about a Cooper who doesn’t want to get out of bed.

Of course everything about Cooper is cute. And sexy. And perfect.

I love everything about him, and I just wish today was the day we were going to come clean instead of another day where we’re hiding. We should be holding hands as we skip down the aisle, the best man and the maid of honor—and instead, we’re tucking away our feelings in mixed company for yet another day.

I make him some oatmeal while he gets ready, and then he leaves for the golf course after the kind of hug that makes me feel all warm inside.

I opt for eating breakfast once I get home, and it’s as I’m making my way toward the stairs to grab my overnight bag that I feel like maybe I stood up too fast again.

Little black dots edge in on my vision, and the next thing I know, I’m lying on the floor at the foot of the steps.

Did I pass out…again?

If it’s a blood pressure thing, and my dad just had double bypass surgery a few months ago…the thought makes my blood run cold, so I decide to head over to urgent care just to get checked out to be sure I’m okay.

I don’t even need to tell anybody I went. I’ve been feeling a little off the last few days, so this is just preventative. Peace of mind to get checked to make sure I don’t have a bug, to make sure everything’s okay with my heart. I wouldn’t want to spread around the flu at my father’s wedding the day before the men leave for spring training. It’s just a precaution.

I tell myself that over and over as I drive toward the urgent care—after I grabbed a protein bar from Cooper’s stash. I repeat the mantra in my mind as I check in at the desk, as I fill out paperwork, as I ignore incoming text messages from my father and Joanie about today.

I only wait about a half hour before I’m called back. The medical technician takes my vitals, and she doesn’t say anything, which only serves to drive me crazy.

“Is, uh…is everything okay?” I ask.

“Everything’s looking normal,” she says. “Tell me about your symptoms.”

“I passed out about an hour ago, and it’s the second time in the last couple months that’s happened. I’ve also felt a little off the last few days.”

“Off?” she asks.

I wrinkle my nose as I try to put words to how I’ve been feeling. “Kind of like something’s coming on. I haven’t been sick or anything, I’ve just felt…tired. Maybe a little nauseated, like I’m never hungry but when food is in front of me, I can’t stop eating. I’ve been busy and stressed between work and school, and my dad is getting married tonight, and I just wanted to make sure whatever it is isn’t contagious.”

“Have you had to go to the bathroom a lot?” she asks.

I nod. “I’ve been drinking an abnormal amount of water lately, so I figured that’s why.”

“Any tenderness in your breasts?”

I nod. “Like so sore lately. Usually they get sore around the time my period comes.”

“Regular periods?”

“I started birth control, so I haven’t been having periods at all. I figured that’s why my boobs have been sore, too.”

She clears her throat. “Any chance you might be pregnant?”

“I’m on the pill.” Didn’t I just say that? I shake my head. “So no.”

“Let’s run a test just to make sure.”

I shrug. “Okay. Go for it.”

“The pill isn’t one hundred percent effective,” she says as she pulls some items out of a drawer.

“Right. My doctor told me that. But ninety-nine percent is still pretty good.”

She nods. “It is, but it only reaches that rate when it’s taken correctly.”

My brows knit together defensively as my perfectionism takes over. “I take it correctly. Same time every day.”

She hands me a cup and writes my name on it. “We’ll need a sample in this cup. There’s a bathroom down the hall to the right. There’s a little cabinet on the wall you can leave it in.”

“A sample?” I ask.

“Urine.”

“Right.” My cheeks fill with color, and then I hop off the table and head down the hall to grab my sample .

There’s no way I’m pregnant.

If I was, wouldn’t I know?

When I return to the room, the medical technician is gone. I sit on the table and wait.

It feels like the longest damn wait of my life before I finally hear a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I yell, and a man who looks to be in his late twenties and who might pique my interest if I wasn’t in love with Cooper walks in.

“Well, I’m glad you’re sitting, because I’m here to tell you that you’re pregnant,” he says. He sits on the stool across from the table where I sit, and I’m glad I’m sitting too because what?

“What?” I voice the thought in my head.

“You’re pregnant,” he confirms.

“But…but…but how?” I sputter.

“How?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at me in confusion. “When a man and a woman—"

“But I’m on the pill!” I scream at him.

“The pill is not one hundred percent—”

I hold up a hand. “Effective. Right. Noted,” I practically spit out at him. “How far along am I?”

He glances down at the tablet he holds. “The test you took only tells us yes or no. You’ll need to schedule an ultrasound with your obstetrician to determine the answer to that.”

“But how could this have happened?” I ask. “I’m on the pill. I take it at the same time every day.”

“Stop taking it since you’re pregnant,” he says.

“Is it dangerous that I’ve been taking it?”

He shakes his head. “Many women still take it in the early weeks when they don’t know they’re pregnant. And many women also don’t even know when they’ve taken it incorrectly. Vomiting or diarrhea could render it ineffective. Have you been ill?”

I shake my head, though I have felt a little nauseous lately—I attributed it to the pill, but obviously it wasn’t that.

“Have you missed any at all?” he asks. “Or have you been sick recently?”

“Sick?” I repeat. “Like with a cold?”

He nods. “Some different cold medications can affect you, and many times when women are sick, they miss a pill or take it at a different time of the day.”

“Cold med…” I trail off as it hits me.

It’s been nearly two months since I was sick right before Christmas, and the doctor recommended an over-the-counter cold medicine to alleviate my symptoms.

Oh my God.

It doesn’t really matter how . Maybe I missed a pill and didn’t realize it back in December.

It hits me, and I nearly pass out again.

I’m pregnant—maybe as far along as two entire months…and the daddy is my daddy’s best friend.