audibly gasp and drop the test. It clatters in the sink.
“Oh my god. Oh . . . my God,” I repeat to myself. I stand there for I don’t know how long until I hear someone trying to enter the restroom. I panic—grabbing the test, shoving it in my purse, and unlocking the door. I make a mad dash back to my office. I toss the rest of my sandwich in the trash and try to calm my nerves with a few moments of meditation, water, and deep breathing.
I pull out my phone to text Harley but decide against it. I want Grayson to be the first person to know. A smile spreads across my face and the butterflies are back dancing in my stomach. “I—I’m pregnant,” I say to myself before my hands instinctively cover my mouth and a tear trickles down my cheek. It takes everything I have not to go sit in Grayson’s office and wait for him to return, but I know telling him at work could be a disaster. Instead, I take several more calming breaths and get back to work.
The day creeps by with everything going on. No Grayson at work, and now I finally have to prepare to tell him the one thing I’ve been holding back from him—well, actually, two things. I think of a hundred different ways to tell him over dinner, but nothing sounds right. I guess I’ll just wing it.
After work, I go home alone and pace back and forth. I think about calling Harley again, but I know what she’d say. She’d say that I’m overthinking again. That it shouldn’t be this hard. That I should just listen to my heart and say the words I’m feeling. I know she’s right, so I push all thoughts away and go to get ready for dinner.
Grayson comes by and picks me up around 5 p.m. He’s dressed to kill in dark-wash jeans and a navy blue button-up shirt, and his dark hair is styled perfectly. I hope that I look good enough in the black dress I chose, and judging by the look on his face when I open the door, I do.
He smiles. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you,” I say as he’s leaning in for a kiss.
“Are you ready?”
I nod and step out into the hallway with him. I lock the door behind us as he leads me out to the car and drives us across town.
“Where are we going?” I ask, looking around us and trying to figure it out.
“It’s a surprise.”
I smile and shake my head, but sit back to wait.
The restaurant he takes me to is one I’ve never been to before, and when we walk in, I see why. It’s nice. Like, really nice. The kind of place you don’t get into without a reservation. We’re shown to our table and given menus and some water. I pick up my glass and take a sip. Even the water tastes expensive.
I lean in and whisper, “This place looks really pricey.”
His eyebrows go up. “It is.”
“Then why are we here? Why didn’t we just go to the bar or something? I’m good with chicken wings,” I joke.
He laughs. “I know, but I didn’t get to see you all day and I wanted to treat you with something special. Order anything you want.”
After ordering bowls of $27 pasta, we’re left alone again to enjoy our wine. Or at least, Grayson to enjoy his. I finger the stem of the wine glass, I’d kill for a little liquid courage but not with a baby inside me. I feel like right now is the perfect time to tell him. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out.
“I have something to show you,” he says.
“Oh, okay,” I say, snapping my mouth shut.
“But first, I have to ask you something.”
I nod my head, urging him on.
“What’s left on your list?”
“My list?” That throws me off guard.
He nods this time.
“Oh, well . . . about that. I think I’m done with the list.”
His forehead creases with confusion. “You’re done?”
I nod. “Yeah, I mean, the whole point of the list was finding myself, right?”
He nods.
“I did that. I know who I am and what I want. So I threw out the list.”
His purses his lips together in thought.
“So, what did you have to show me?”
He cracks a little smile as he pulls out a small spiral notebook from his pocket. “This.” He holds it up, its blue cover facing me.
“What is it?”
“It’s my list.”
“Your