lips.
My brain and stomach agreed that the taste of the toothpaste was the most disgusting taste in the world.
More than that…
I jumped for the toilet and fell to my knees,
I started to throw up again.
In between heaves, I called for Bev.
She came barreling through the bathroom door and gasped when she saw me holding my hair back, mid-vomit.
“Oh, Maya,” she said. “What is…”
Her voice trailed off.
I finished throwing up and sat back on my heels.
I looked at her.
“Maybe that pizza wasn’t such a good idea,” I said.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I don’t think this has anything to do with the pizza.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
My stomach gurgled. I leaned forward a little but nothing else happened.
Bev stepped to the sink and crouched down to open the cabinet.
She brought out a box of tampons and shook them. “Maya…”
“What?” I asked.
“Do you remember when you first moved in here what happened to us?”
“No.”
“We realized we were… synched up…”
“What are you talking… about…?” I asked as I looked at the box of tampons.
Bev nodded. “Yeah. I’m kind of working my way into another time of the month and you’ve already missed one…”
“No, I didn’t,” I said. “Wait. Let me…”
“Maya, you know how much I track mine,” Bev said. “For personal medical reasons.”
“I know.”
“Maya, this box should be empty,” Bev said. “We should be teasing about who’s buying the next box. Do you not remember our monthly night of chocolate, wine, tampons, and crying together?”
“Shit,” I said.
“Maya…”
“Don’t say it,” I said. I shut my eyes. I touched my stomach. “Just don’t say it, Bev.”
“I have to say it,” she said.
“Bev…”
“Maya, are you pregnant?”
I texted Cole that I was sick again. That I was sorry I couldn’t come to work.
I wanted nothing more than to curl up in my bed and decide what to do first. Panic. Cry. Scream. Or just go to sleep and wake up and know this was some kind of weird joke being played by the universe.
Bev left to go get a pregnancy test.
A fucking pregnancy test!
How? How could…
Cole’s name lit up my screen.
He was calling.
I sighed.
“Morning, Cole,” I said.
“You don’t sound sick.”
“Want me to take a picture of the toilet?”
“Oh, that’s gross.”
“You obviously don’t believe me.”
“I didn’t say that,” he said. “I’m just making sure you’re not quitting.”
“Quitting?”
“Yeah. If you want to quit, just quit. Don’t play the calling off game bullshit. I need to know if I should be hiring someone else.”
“Wow. Here I thought you were checking up on me.”
“It’s not my job to do that, Maya. But it is your job to be here at the office.”
“Of course. Sorry, Cole. Want me to come in? Vomit all over the place? Get everyone else sick?”
“Well, if you throw up again, you should see a doctor,” he said. “Maybe you have food poisoning. Or an ulcer.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Cole.”
“Rest up, love,” he said.
He hung up.
“Rest up, love,” I mimicked.
When Bev returned from the store, she tossed me the bag and gave me privacy.
I opened the pregnancy test as I sat on my bed.
I read the instructions like I was building a rocket ship to Mars.
It was kind of easy to figure out.
Pee.
Wait.
And then…
I went in the bathroom and squatted over the pregnancy test.
There were a lot of things I never thought I would do in the morning when it came to Cole.
But this?
This was never on my radar.
And he was sitting at his big, fancy desk, probably hungover from the night before. Thinking about the drinks he had. The woman he took home.
What was I doing?
I finished and stood up.
The bathroom was small, but I found a way to pace.
When I started to feel dizzy from turning so quick, so often, I faced the shower curtain and closed my eyes.
I pictured the beach.
That did nothing.
I chewed on my fingernails.
They were already chewed down.
I opened my eyes.
I slowly turned.
I skipped my reflection in the mirror and looked down to the sink.
There it was… balanced on the edge of the bathroom sink…
“Fuck,” I whispered.
The pregnancy test was positive.
Chapter Eighteen
Cole
I worked late and caught myself swinging by Maya’s office a few times, as though she was there. My late nights were her late nights. Without her around, I had to dig through emails and files on my own.
We were in the mid-stages of Mr. Pickle finalizing the deal.
Yeah, it was in the hands of the lawyers, but I wanted to make sure it was all perfect. That meant triple checking our figures. It meant looking into any