Wrong Question, Right Answer (The Bourbon Street Boys #3) - Elle Casey Page 0,52
rightness of that hits me full force, like a sledgehammer in the chest. It has to be.
I resign myself to my fate, dropping my head as I walk into the pub and head for the bathroom, preparing myself mentally to face the music. If God is just and God is fair, I will be pregnant, because that would be the worst punishment I could possibly think of for myself.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I cannot believe it. I thought I had resigned myself to this possibility and accepted my fate, but as I stare down at stick number four and see another faint pink plus sign in the window, I realize there’s no way I could adequately prepare myself for something like this. I now know that God may be fair and he may be just, but he also has a wicked sense of humor.
I rest my forehead on the divider between the toilet I’m sitting on and the empty stall next to me. I am completely out of urine now, but it doesn’t matter. Two more tests or four more tests or ten more tests aren’t going to make any difference. I’m pregnant. What’s done is done. According to the calendar, I could be as many as ten days along. There’s no way for me to know for sure without a doctor getting involved. A fleeting thought floats through my mind. It’s not too late to do something about this.
My heart stops beating and then spasms painfully. I may not go to church every week, but that doesn’t mean I’m completely oblivious to the things preached there. And I learned how precious life is when I took Charlie’s from him. I can’t take another life away, I just can’t. Maybe God is giving me a second chance and this is a test. Regardless, I don’t really have a choice. This is how it has to be for me. Unless something crazy happens in the next eight and a half months, I am going to be a mother. I start crying and I can’t stop.
There’s a banging on the outer door that I barely register. I don’t answer. I just drop the used test-sticks into the plastic bag at my feet and slowly stand, buttoning and zipping my pants as the tears continue to fall.
The door squeaks open loudly. “Are you okay in here?” It’s Lucky, goddamn him.
“No, I am not okay.”
The door opens farther. “Was it negative?”
Why on earth would I be so miserable if it were negative? If I didn’t feel so shitty right now, I’d bust out of this bathroom and put him in a headlock just for being so stupid.
His voice is closer now, just outside the door of my stall. “Talk to me, babe. Tell me what’s going on.”
He’s calling me babe again, and it’s killing me. He’s already acting weird. This is going to ruin everything between us. “I can’t right now, Lucky. Go away.” I put my hand on the door where his face might be but let my fingers slide away. I love him and I hate him. The feelings are hitting me with equal force. Have I always loved him? I think about it for a few long seconds and realize that I have. I’ve tried for ten years to love him like a brother, but it’s not going to work anymore. Not that it ever did. Maybe that’s why Charlie was always jealous of him. Maybe deep down, Charlie knew he wasn’t the guy I really wanted.
“Are you going number two?” Lucky asks gently.
My jaw drops open and my hand clenches into a fist at my side. I’m half pissed and half delirious. A laugh escapes my throat before I can stop it. “No! Shut up!” And I thought today could not get any worse. My face is flaming red at the idea of Lucky catching me pooping in the ladies’ bathroom.
I can hear the smile in the bastard’s voice. “Listen, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. If you’re building a log cabin in there, just say the word. I can come back.”
He is so going to die. I race to get myself situated and the bag collected from the spot at my feet. “No, wait. I change my mind. Don’t go anywhere. Stay right there so I can kick your ass.” I turn around and kick the handle on the toilet to make it flush. Then I unlock the door and throw it open. I am so ready to hurt somebody right now.