“Luna?” Mariya gives my shoulders a shake. “Are you still with us?”
I blink and look up at her. “What?”
“You’ve been staring at that box for a while. I was getting a little worried your brain melted.”
“No. No melted brain here. I’m fine. Totally fine.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“So you aren’t freaking out?” she asks.
“About what? This?” I hold up the box and force out a laugh. It comes out high and squeaky. “No. Definitely not.”
I can’t remember when my last period was. Before I met Yakov, for sure. I haven’t had one since being here. I should probably be on my period now, actually.
Shit, shit, shit.
“Before you ask why I have that pregnancy test—” Mariya starts.
I whirl on her, finger already pointed. “Why in the hell do you have pregnancy tests? Holy shit, Mariya! Are you—”
“No!” She waves her arms like she’s trying to ward off a demon. “No. Hard no. Don’t even speak those words.”
I sigh. Thank God for that. “Okay, so what’s with the test?”
“Given everything that happened last night, the plan is officially off, but I may have planned to plant those somewhere and freak my brothers out. Just for fun.”
I gape at her. “Mariya! That would have been the world’s worst prank. So not funny.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be funny. I wanted to freak them out. But I think last night freaked everyone out more than enough. Like I said, the plan is canceled.”
“Keep it that way,” I snap.
Then I look down at the box in my hand again.
“Nope. No more staring.” Mariya snatches the box out of my hand and tears into it. “We’re not going to have an existential freak-out until we know it’s necessary. If there’s a bun in that oven, then you can stare into space and contemplate your future.”
My future.
“Oh my God. I’m twenty-four.”
Mariya frowns. “Did you hit your head last night? Should I ask you what year it is? Tell me who’s president.”
“I’m twenty-four,” I repeat slowly. “I’m not supposed to have kids yet. I’m not even married. I’m not even in a relationship.”
“You’re with Yakov.”
Bless Mariya and the naïve teenager lenses she views the world through, but she doesn’t have a single clue what she’s talking about. I grab the box from her and edge towards the bathroom door. “I’m going to go.”
“What about the test?”
“Later,” I say. “I’ll do it later.”
Or maybe half-past never. Since that’s when I’ll be ready to find out I’m pregnant.
“But don’t you want to know?” she asks.
No. One heaping order of denial, please and thanks.
“Plus, I don’t even have to pee right now.” I smile, hoping it looks more real than it feels.
“There’s juice with my breakfast. You can have that if you—”
I duck out of her bathroom before she can finish. It probably looks like I’m running away, but that’s okay. That’s exactly what I’m doing.
Back in my room, I lock the door and lean my head back against the wood. Another wave of nausea rolls over me. I force out deep breaths until it passes.
Even when it’s gone, it’s not really gone. My body feels weird. I can’t decide if it’s real or all in my head.
This morning has been just as stressful as last night was. This could be more stress-induced nausea. But it’s never happened to me before.
Then again, I’ve never been kidnapped by a Bratva boss and then almost assaulted by a man who stood me up on a date before, either.
I’ve had a lot of firsts recently.
Like being pregnant. That would be a first.
“Oh, God,” I groan.
Mariya may have a simplistic view of life and relationships, but she wasn’t wrong. Spiraling before I even know whether I’m pregnant or not is a waste of time.
I carry the tests into the bathroom and close the door.
It takes several rounds of deep breathing and pacing across Yakov’s palatial master bathroom before I finally unwrap the first test. I do my business, eyes closed the whole time, then lay it facedown on the counter when I’m finished. Then I spend three times as long as usual washing my hands.
It’s probably going to be negative. Almost definitely, right? Mariya put the thought of pregnancy in my head and it freaked me out. But the chances that I’m actually pregnant are slim.
Sure, Yakov took my phone away, which meant I didn’t have the daily alarm reminder to take my birth control. But I’ve remembered to take it on time. Mostly. One missed pill isn’t the end of the world.
The tension in my chest eases away. Even the nausea seems to be better.
“I’m freaking out about nothing,” I say as I reach for the test.
It hasn’t been a full three minutes yet, but I don’t need to wait the full time just to see an empty test window.
Except when I turn over the test, the window isn’t empty. There’s a solid blue line.
I stare, expecting the line to disappear between each blink and the next.
It hasn’t even been the full three minutes yet. The line should be faint, if anything at all. I must be seeing wrong.
“It’s defective.” I tear into the next test with shaking fingers. “It’s broken.”
This time, I pee and look at the window right away.
It’s only been a few seconds, but another blue line is forming. It gets darker the longer I look at it.
Shit, shit, shit.
There’s a knock on the bedroom door. Before I can even process what is happening, I throw both tests in the trash can.
“Luna?” Mariya calls from the hallway.
I open the door and lean against the frame. I think I’m smiling, but I can’t actually feel my face. I’m shaking all over.
I’m pregnant.
“Well?” She chews on her lower lip. “Did you take it?”
“Not yet. I’m actually feeling better.”
Spit collects in my mouth. My stomach is churning. I’m going to throw up.
I’m pregnant.
Kids weren’t on my radar. Haven’t been on my radar. Not even when I was with Benjy. I didn’t always realize how unhealthy our relationship was, but I could never imagine a future with him. Thinking about us five years out was like looking through a camera with the lens cap on. I knew there must be something there, but I sure as hell couldn’t see it.
“You should still take one, Luna. Just in case.”
“I’ll do it later,” I tell her. “Right now, I’m going to try to sleep some more. I’m tired.”
Mariya narrows her eyes like she can see straight through my lie. But then she nods. “Okay. Talk to you later.”
I didn’t plan to lie. But I couldn’t bring myself to say the words out loud—I’m pregnant.
As soon as I tell someone, it will feel way too real.
Besides, I should probably tell Yakov first.
If he’ll even speak to me.
