If I Break THE COMPLETE SERIES Bundle (31 page)

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Authors: Portia Moore

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: If I Break THE COMPLETE SERIES Bundle
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“I heard you crying last night,” she reveals quietly. “I’ve heard you crying the past three nights, and I’m worried about you.”

I open my mouth to tell her again that she doesn’t have to worry, that I’m okay, but suddenly, my stomach churns. I run to the bathroom as fast as I can. Thankfully, the contents in my stomach don’t spill out until I’m over the toilet. When I lift my head, Angela is standing in the doorway silently with her arms crossed. I look away from her skeptical expression and grab my toothbrush.

“Can you guess what I’m about to ask?” she says, handing me the toothpaste.

“It’s not what you think.” I stuff the paste-filled brush in my mouth, taking as long as I can to brush so I won’t have to face her.

“And you know this for sure?” she asks, sitting on the edge of her tub.

I see she’s not going to let up on this. I smile tightly and rinse my mouth.

“I know my body,” I tell her simply and leave the bathroom. There is no way that I can be…

She follows me to the living room. “When is the last time you had your period?”

“Three weeks ago,” I say off the top of my head, hoping the questions will stop.

“Was it a full one or…”

I stop and turn around to face her. “It doesn’t matter, because I’m not pregnant.” I should have gone to a hotel.

“Willing yourself not to be pregnant doesn’t work.”

“Well, birth control does.”

“It isn’t a hundred percent.”

“Well, it is for me,” I say, anger creeping into my voice.

“You’re telling me that you never missed using it, and whenever you and Cal had sex, he always wore a condom?” She laughs.

I cover my face with my hands. “I don’t want to talk about this, okay?”

“Lauren, you can’t ignore this!”

“I’m not ignoring anything because there’s nothing to ignore. So what? I’ve thrown up once. It could be what I ate. I could have the flu. It doesn’t mean I’m pregnant.”

“No, but since you’ve been here, you’ve done nothing but eat, sleep, and cry. I don’t know what happened when I took you home. I haven’t asked you anything, but you aren’t the person I know. Tell me what’s going on,” she asks sincerely.

“He left me, Angie! Cal left me. That is why I’ve been crying,” I say, my voice rising. I bite my lip, begging my eyes to stop watering. “I sleep so I won’t have to think about him being gone. I miss him, and I want him back. As screwed up as our relationship was, I want him back. I love him.” I cover my face again.

Angela wraps her arm around me. “Lauren, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was embarrassed. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I didn’t want you to feel sorry for me, but I couldn’t stay in that house or go back to my aunt’s. I didn’t want to be alone either. I didn’t want to admit that it’s happening,” I tell her amidst my tears falling.

“I’m so sorry, Lauren. I didn’t know. It’s okay to miss him. There’s nothing wrong with that—you’ve been with him the last three years of your life. I’d be worried if you didn’t. I’m sorry. What did he say to you? He didn’t tell you why or where he was going?”

“It’s not important. He’s gone; that’s all.” I grip my forehead. “Just gone.” I try to compose myself, and I sit on the couch that has been my bed for the past week. “I don’t know, Angie,” I say honestly, wiping my face.

“Don’t know what?” she asks, carefully sitting beside me.

I run my hands through my hair out of frustration. “The last time I had a full period was two months ago. So I really don’t know if-if I’m pregnant. It’s possible. What I do know is that this would be the worst time, the absolute worst.” I whimper, covering my face. “A baby is not what I need right now. I can’t be pregnant.” I fold my arms around my stomach.

“Well, let’s not jump to conclusions. You may not be. After all, stress would cause your period to stop, and you’ve been sleeping because you’re emotionally drained.” She tries to comfort me, but the look on her face is anything but convinced. “The important thing is that you find out, then you can figure out what you’re going to do about it, okay?”

She lifts my head. I smile weakly. She goes to the fridge and hands me an iced tea.

“So I’ll run to the store and get a test. You stay here and chill. Don’t go to sleep. Watch TV, listen to some music, but I’m kicking your ass if you’re passed out when I get back,” she jokes.

I smile. I’m not pregnant. I’m not.

“It says to wait five minutes. It’ll be a plus sign if positive, a minus if negative.” She smiles, trying to cover up her own nervousness.

“I know, you’ve told me that twice,” I tell her nervously.

“Sorry.” She bites her lip anxiously.

“God, why is this taking so long? It seems like it’s been twenty. How much time left?” I ask, pacing the kitchen again.

“Three. Only two more to go,” she says after looking at her watch. “Maybe we should go for a walk. Just sitting here waiting is going to drive you crazy,” she suggests.

“No. I need to know that I’m not as soon as possible,” I tell her, playing with my fingertips.

There’s no way I can be pregnant. Not now. Not now!

“Okay. It’s been five.”

I feel my stomach drop. Suddenly I wish I hadn’t taken this test. I want to run out of the house and not look back. If I don’t know I’m not, it’s better than knowing the other possibility. I can’t deal with this right now.

“Lauren, are you okay? You’re turning pale,” Angela says with a worried expression.

“I’m fine,” I say, trying to convince myself.

“Are you going to go get it?”

I look at the bathroom door; my heart beats faster. “I can’t. You look,” I tell her, sitting down.

“Are you sure?” she asks me again.

I nod.

“Okay.”

I close my eyes and hear her footsteps move farther away. When I hear them coming back, I squeeze my eyes tighter. She taps me lightly on the shoulder. I look up, trying to read her expression.

“Good news,” she says with a soft smile.

I breathe a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you, God.” I feel as if twenty pounds have been lifted off me. “This is just so much off my mind. You don’t know how scared I was. If I was pregnant, I can’t even think about what I would do. I don’t even know what I’m going to do now. Having a baby, that just would make things so much more complicated.”

I hug her. Suddenly I notice she’s not hugging me back. I lean back and see her face is blank.

“Maybe I should have said bad news,” she says, covering her forehead. “I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry!”

“What?” I ask, confused, and she hands the test to me. My stomach drops when I see the deep pink plus sign. “No. NO!” I throw the test on the floor, my tears returning. “I can’t have a baby right now! This can’t be happening!”

“Lauren, calm down,” she pleads.

“Calm down? I can’t be pregnant! I don’t even know where my husband is. This cannot happen! It has to be wrong,” I shout. “I can’t be a mom right now. It’s wrong, right? Most of the time they’re wrong.”

Angela grabs my hands. “Yes, it could be wrong. These things aren’t one hundred percent, but you have to prepare yourself for the possibility that it might not be.”

I just cry harder. “I can’t raise a child alone. I’m not ready for a baby.” I shake my head defiantly.

“Lauren, listen to me, okay? You can do this. You don’t need Cal. If he comes back, I’ll be so happy for you, but if he doesn’t, screw him. You’re a strong, wonderful, kind, beautiful woman. If he doesn’t know that, he doesn’t deserve you. He certainly doesn’t for making you feel like this, and he won’t deserve the wonderful, beautiful baby you might be having. You are not going to do this alone. You’ll have me and Hillary and Raven. We’ll all be here for you.”

I look at her. She seems genuine, but she doesn’t understand. I walk over to the sink and splash water on my face. I stoically walk out of the bathroom and grab my purse, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” she asks worriedly.

“I need some air. I’m going for a walk,” I tell her as I open the door.

She starts to get up. “I’ll go with you.”

“No, I need some time alone.”

“Lauren…”

“I’ll be fine. I’m fine,” I tell her with a dry chuckle as I close the door behind me.

“L
auren, you’re taking forever, babe,” Cal complains, standing in the doorway dressed in a square-collar silver button-up paired with a hand-tailored black suit.

I slip on my black leather pumps and observe myself in the mirror, making sure the clingy silver dress that’s hugging my body hasn’t bunched up.

“You look fine.” He’s now behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist, pressing his body against mine.

I shimmy out of his arms and grab my flat iron, determined to get the one cranky portion of my hair to cooperate.

“If we’re going to be late, let’s make it for a better reason.” His voice is in my ear and his hand has slid beneath my dress.

I whip around and push his hand away playfully. “No, Cal. Not tonight.” I back away.

I have got to learn to get ready faster, because it seems when I don’t and we’re heading toward being late, he decides to use it as an excuse to make us even later. He blocks my path, and I’m trapped between my vanity and his chest. He takes the flat iron and sets it down.

“We’re already late,” he says and, in one swift swoop, lifts me onto the vanity.

“But—”

My sentence is stopped by his lips covering mine. Only 
we
would be late for our own engagement party. I start to give in when I hear our house phone ring. The only person who calls the house phone is the building concierge.

I pull away from his kiss. “It’s just going to keep ringing.”

He groans and turns to grab the phone, answering it as he walks back to me. “Yeah?” His lips find my neck again. A second later, he stops and gives his full attention to the phone call. “What’s her name?”

I’m watching him, but he turns, so I don’t see his reaction when the person on the other end answers.

“I’ll be right there,” he says and hangs up.

“What happened?” I ask, maneuvering off the vanity and adjusting my dress.

“I think it’s a solicitor or something,” he says, adjusting his jacket coolly.

“A solicitor?” I follow him out of our bedroom and downstairs. “At five o’clock on a Saturday?” My tone is joking, but my expression should reveal the seriousness of the question.

He stops in his tracks and looks at me. “I’m going to see who it is. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll go with you,” I inform him.

“No, finish getting ready. This won’t take me five minutes,” he says, casually resting his hands in his jacket pockets.

I stare at him, searching his expression for a hint of nervousness or twinge of guilt. He sighs in exasperation.

I fold my arms across my chest. “Well, you get this strange call that there’s some woman downstairs to meet you and you say it’s a 
solicitor.

Cal never rushes to do anything, then he gets a call about a woman being downstairs to meet him and I’m just supposed to say, “Okay, honey”? He seems amused by my reaction. A smile spreads across his face, and he pulls me to him.

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