“How am I going to tell him?” I whisper as I stare at the ceiling fan, watching the blades spin in circles.
“You’re not going to tell him.”
I whip my head toward her. “What are you saying?”
“I mean, you’re not going to tell him yet. Not until you confirm with your doctor that you’re pregnant.”
“I just threw up, I missed my period, and the test is positive.”
“I know. I know. But when it comes to something this big, you need to be sure. I say you wait to tell him until you see a doctor.”
The doctor I used for the last nine years is in Chicago. I’m going to need to find a new one here in the city.
“I don’t have one here,” I tell her.
“That’s fine. I’ll give you my doctor’s information. She’s awesome.”
“You really don’t think I should tell him until I see a doctor?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I mean, you do you. But what if you’re just sick and it’s contributed to all these things? And what if it’s a false positive? Those happen.”
I raise my eyebrows at her, wondering if she’s serious right now.
“I’m not saying it’s likely. I’m just saying that it might be easier to tell him if you get an actual due date and everything.”
I think about going to him and having no answers if he starts rattling off questions. Maybe she’s right. The more knowledge I have going into the conversation, the better.
“Okay. I’ll call the doctor today.”
The good thing about having my own company is that I can take the day to myself and don’t have to answer to anyone. I don’t have any meetings.
After I call Jessie’s doctor, who said they can see me next week, I agree to take a shower, then eat some lunch. She calls her boss and tells him she needs to take a personal day.
That’s how you know you have a real friend. I know she has mountains of work to get done, but she’s willing to cast it all aside for today because I need her.
When dinnertime rolls around, after Jesse and I watched two movies while I cried on and off, I get a text from Roman.
Dinner tonight? I’ll cook at my place.
Sadness hits me like a tidal wave running through my body. A text like this would have put a smile on my face yesterday. Now, it’s just a reminder that no matter what happens, things are going to be different between us.
The tears stream down my face, blurring my vision.
“He wants me to come over. What do I say?” I say through thick emotion.
“You don’t have to reply right now.”
“I want to see him. I want to tell him. But what if I do and he freaks out? What if I’m not pregnant and he can’t get over the scare? I just … I can’t right now.”
“That’s okay. You are protecting yourself. That’s allowed.”
I wipe my cheeks. “I feel like I’m lying to him.”
“You’re not lying, Eva.”
It will feel like lying if I see him. There’s no way I can look into those blue eyes and hold this in. I’d crumble into a ball right there at his feet.
“You have an appointment in four days. That’s not long. You can go four days without seeing him.”