When Constellations Form (Light in the Dark Book 4) Page 8

  My period is late, and I feel like an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

  I should’ve started while we were gone and I didn’t. It’s easy to chalk it up to all the stress I’ve had, but my gut says I’m pregnant.

  It’s like I know on some instinctual level that there’s a baby in me.

  Holy fucking shit—there might be a little alien inside me sucking the life out of me.

  Just great.

  “Deep breaths, Thea. You don’t know anything yet.”

  I grip the wheel tightly as I drive, so tight in fact that my knuckles turn white.

  At the intersection out of the neighborhood, traffic seems endless.

  “Get the fuck out of my way,” I shout futilely at the traffic, waving my hand wildly. I can see my destination in the distance. So close, yet so far away.

  “Don’t pass out,” I tell myself. “Do not pass out.”

  I’m finally able to pull out and drive across the street to the drug store.

  I park in the nearest spot to the entrance and then hurry inside.

  My heart is beating faster than it ever has before. My hands feel clammy with sweat, and I’m sure if I felt my forehead it would be too.

  I head past the condoms—little late for those—and to the pregnancy tests.

  “Why are there so many?” I mutter to myself out loud.

  There are strips, and sticks, and ones with curved handles.

  There are some with smiley faces and sad faces, plus signs and minuses signs, and some that flat out say PREGNANT and NOT PREGNANT.

  I feel like screaming.

  “Do you need some help?” I look over and find a woman, probably in her mid-thirties, looking at me with pity in her eyes. She can probably tell I’m close to having a nervous breakdown.

  I nod, my lower lip quivering. “This is … It’s a little overwhelming.”

  She smiles. “I’ve been there. It’ll be fine, sweetie. I’d recommend this one, they’re pretty accurate.” She pulls out one of the ones that digitally says PREGNANT and NOT PREGNANT. “They’re a little more expensive, but they’re worth it.”

  “Thank you,” I tell her, taking the box and grabbing two more just to be on the safe side.

  I take a steadying breath and head to the checkout.

  “Is that all?” the checkout girl asks, and maybe I’m paranoid but I swear she’s sneering and looking at me like I’m dirty for buying pregnancy tests. I know I’m young but I feel like waving my left hand in front of her face and shouting, “I’m married!” but I also know that shouldn’t matter anyway.

  “Yeah, that’s all.” I get my total and pay.

  She hands me my change and I grab my bag, heading out the door.

  The drive home can’t be more than five minutes, but it feels like five hours.

  Jace and Nova are gone when I get there, and Xander hasn’t gotten back.

  I know he can’t be much longer, though, which means I don’t have long to pee on one of these sticks.

  I close the garage door behind me and run into the house and up the stairs.

  I drop the bag on the counter in the bathroom and fumble to get out one of the boxes.

  According to the directions, it’s best to wait and pee first thing in the morning—but I don’t have time for that, so I’m doing it now. Besides, I’ve never been very good at following directions.

  I rip open one of the boxes and get down to business.

  Only I don’t have to pee.

  “Oh, for the love of God. Come on, come on,” I beg.

  I’ve never wanted to pee so bad in my life.

  “Stay calm,” I tell myself. “You’re never going to pee if you’re freaking out.”

  I close my eyes, and take a few deep calming breaths.

  Finally, thankfully, I begin to pee.

  It’s a lot harder to pee on that stick than you’d think, though.

  I manage to do it, though, and finish up.

  I lay the pregnancy test on the counter and wash my hands. According to the directions it can take three to five minutes to get results.

  I pace the length of the bathroom and peek at the test, but nothing shows yet.

  “Ugh,” I groan. “Hurry up.”

  My chest feels tight and I feel like I might throw up.

  “This can’t be happening,” I mutter.

  The alarm on the door chirps and a moment later I hear Xander call out, “Thea! I’m home!”

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I curse.

  “I’ll be down in a minute!” I call out, hoping he doesn’t come up. I can hear him carrying bags in, so hopefully he has enough that he’ll be occupied long enough.

  I glance at the time on my phone.

  Two more minutes.

  I circle the bathroom again, rubbing my hands together. My nerves are through the roof.

  I hear Xander and go back out and come back in. “I got your coffee!” he yells up the stairs.

  “Thanks!” I say back, though I’m feeling anything but thankful at the moment.

  If I’m pregnant, the boy might lose his life.

  Or his dick.

  I haven’t decided yet.

  I look at my phone.

  Time’s up.

  I dash for the pregnancy test on the counter and in my haste to get it I knock it to the floor.

  “Fuck!” I curse, diving after it and falling to the floor.

  My fall causes a loud bang and Xander calls out worriedly, “Thea? Are you okay?”

  I don’t answer him. I slide across the bathroom floor, my knee screaming in pain from the fall, and my fingers reach out for the slender white stick.

  I finally close my fingers around it and pull it to me.

  I flip it around and in the little screen staring straight at me is PREGNANT.

  “Thea?”

  I look up and find Xander standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

  His eyes roam over the scene—the bag on the counter, the boxes, and me on the floor with the pregnancy test in my hand.

  “Thea?” he says again. “What’s … What’s going on? Is that …?”

  I swallow thickly. I can’t hide it from him, I mean, I’m sitting right here with the stupid thing in my hand and I’m freaking the fuck out.

  Tears fill my eyes and I nod, holding the test out to him so he can see.

  He takes it from me, shock filling his eyes. His lips part and he looks from it to me. “What? When? How?”

  My sarcasm rears its ugly head. “Well, the how is pretty obvious.”

  “You’re pregnant?” He looks from the test to me and back again.

  “According to that thing.”

  He drops to his knees in front of me. The shock is still written all over his face.

  “We’re having a baby?” he asks me.

  I nod, tears falling from my eyes.

  He grins at me, and reaches out to place his hand on my flat stomach.

  “Wow,” he murmurs. “We’re going to have a baby, Thea. This is crazy.”

  His smile is huge. I can tell he’s beyond happy. And me? I don’t know what I feel. Not happiness. Instead, I’m consumed by an overwhelming fear. I can’t take care of a baby. I can barely take care of myself.

  I know it’s wrong, but I almost feel angry … No, not angry, but jealous that he’s happy. This should be my moment, one of the best in my life, and I don’t feel happy.

  Does that already make me a horrible mom?

  Have I already managed to fail at this parenting thing before it even starts?

  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not thinking of doing anything drastic, but I’m not ready for a baby. I’m not even twenty-three yet and now I’m going to be a mom?

  I know plenty of people younger than me are having kids, but they’re different from me. I wanted to wait.

  I guess fate had other plans.

  Xander wraps his arms around me and hugs me tight. I’m still stunned and don’t move my arms for a minute, but I eventually hug hi
m back.

  He kisses me, and I’m wooden against him. Normally, I come alive when he touches me or kisses me, but I’m nothing but cold right now.

  He cups my cheek, pressing his forehead to mine. “I know you didn’t want a baby now, but something tells me this is going to be the best thing to happen to us.”

  I press my lips together. I hope he’s right.

  “I’m scared,” I admit.

  Terrified.

  Confused.

  Lost.

  “I know.” He kisses my forehead. “It’ll be fine, though. I promise.”

  I close my eyes and let his words wash over me.

  I don’t feel any better, though. Anxiety builds in my chest as I think about a screaming baby and all that comes with it, and then shame for not being happy. I know someone would do anything for this moment, and I’m not even grateful for it.

  Something is seriously wrong with me.

  Xander

  “Are you seriously going to watch me pee?” Thea asks, her fingers curling around the pregnancy test box.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “Yes, I wasn’t here the first time, so I’m going to be here now.” I stand resolute in the doorway to the bathroom. Nothing is going to get me to move from this spot.

  Thea sighs and opens the box, pulling out the stick and handing me the trash.

  She wanted to take another test this morning, since the box said it was more accurate then, but we both know the answer isn’t changing.

  Thea pees on the stick and then lays it on the counter so she can wash her hands.

  “How long is it supposed to take?” I ask, peering at the stick.

  “It can take five minutes.”

  It barely takes two.

  Thea picks it up and shakes it, like that can erase the answer she doesn’t want to see.

  “Hey,” I scold lightly, grabbing her hand in mine to still it. “It’s going to be okay.” I take her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. I can easily see the fear in her hazel eyes.

  I know she’s scared, I am too, but I know this isn’t a bad thing.

  She breathes out a shaky breath. “What are we going to do?” she asks softly.

  “What we always do,” I reply. “Figure it out.”

  I’m not naïve. I know a baby isn’t an easy thing. I know it means a screaming, pooping, living being, but I believe in us.

  Unlike Thea, I grew up in a loving home, and even though I’m a guy, I always knew I wanted a family one day. A big one. If I’d had my choice we would’ve already had a kid, but I knew better than to broach the subject right now, and I understood.

  Thea’s young, she barely just graduated college, and she wants to live her life a little.

  I respected that.

  But shit happens.

  Shit did happen.

  I let my hands fall, and she forces a smile, always trying to be strong.

  “Come here,” I tell her, opening my arms.

  She dives into them gladly, and I hold her tight, hoping that I can make her feel the smallest bit better.

  I brush my lips against the top of her head. Her hair is soft and tickles my nose.

  “I’ll make an appointment with my doctor,” she says, her voice muffled against my shirt. She steps back, wiping tears from her eyes.

  “Thea,” my voice cracks with worry.

  She holds her hands out in front of her. “I’m okay.” She forces a smile, her lower lip trembling. “I’m okay,” she says again. “Oh, fuck it, I’m not.” She finally gives in and breaks down.

  I wrap my arms around her again, murmuring comforting words under my breath.

  “I shouldn’t be crying,” she says against my shirt, the fabric scrunched between her fists. “At least not this kind of crying.”

  “This wasn’t planned,” I reason.

  “Yeah, but you seem pretty jolly about this whole thing.” She rears her head back to look at me, her face splotchy and red from crying.

  I try not to laugh. “Did you seriously just use the word jolly?”

  “Fine then, how about joyous?”

  “That’s better.” I tap her nose. “And yes, I am happy.”

  She frowns. “But that should be me. I’m the girl and you’re the guy, you should be the one freaking the fuck out and wanting to run.”

  I chuckle. “Sweetheart, when have we ever done anything the normal way?”

  “True.” She sniffles some more and backs away. “I’m gonna go call the doctor now.” She wipes her face with the back of her hands. “Hopefully, I can get in soon.”

  She leaves the bathroom in search of her phone. I throw the box away and follow her out.

  Last night, we didn’t get much else done the rest of the day. I think we were both in shock, but while mine was happy shock, hers was … well, not.

  It’s still early so I head downstairs to make us breakfast.

  I’m sure Thea will tell me she’s not hungry, but she’s eating for two now, so I’ll force-feed her if I have to.

  She sits at one of the barstools in the kitchen already, on the phone.

  I leave her to it and pull out the eggs from the refrigerator.

  I figure I’ll make omelets, so I grab one of the mixing bowls we recently bought and set it on the counter.

  When Thea finally hangs up the phone, I’ve already started cooking the eggs. She sighs heavily, laying her head in her hands.

  “When can they get you in?” I ask, my back to her as I watch the eggs.

  “Friday,” she answers, her voice muffled.

  Three days from now. It feels like forever, but I know it’s probably sooner than normal.

  “What’s that smell?” she cries suddenly. “Oh, God.” I turn in time to see her slap her hand over her nose and run from the room.

  “Thea?” I call after her. I turn the stove off and rush after her, finding her heaving over the toilet in the downstairs powder room. “Aw, man, I’m sorry, baby.” I crouch down beside her and hold her hair back. I rub her back with my other hand, trying to offer her as much comfort as I can.

  She finally finishes and sits back, looking up at me with watery eyes. “I fucking hate morning sickness.”

  “Do you think that’s what you had the day of your graduation?” I ask, remembering back to how she became so suddenly sick.

  She nods and stands, going to the sink to rinse her mouth out. When she finishes she says, “Yeah, I think so. It must’ve been the start.” She bites her lip. “I’m sorry, but can you not make the eggs? I don’t think I can stomach the smell.”

  I raise my hands. “You got it. Consider them gone.”

  “I’ll go up and brush my teeth while you get rid of them. I don’t want to get sick again. I hate throwing up.”

  “Is there something you think you can eat?” I ask pleadingly, knowing she needs to eat something.

  She shrugs. “Toast with butter maybe? I’m not sure I can keep much down—I don’t know if that’s actually morning sickness, or just sickness from all of this.” She waves her hand through the air.

  “Toast,” I repeat. “I can do that.”

  “Thank you.” She gives me a small, sad smile, and pushes by me to go upstairs.

  I get rid of the eggs. As much as I’d like an omelet for myself, I don’t want to risk her getting sick again.

  I put a piece of bread in the toaster for her and make a bowl of cheerios for myself.

  The bread pops up out of the toaster as she comes down the stairs. I put it on a plate and set out the butter so she can put it on.

  She slides onto one of the barstools and I hand her a knife before I sit down beside her.

  She butters her toast and takes a small hesitant bite.

  She chews slowly and swallows.

  “Think you can keep it down?” I ask.

  She nods. “Yeah, I think so.”

  She takes another bite, bigger this time.

  She manages to eat the whole piece of toast. I wish she’d eat m
ore, but I know better than to push my luck.

  I finish my cereal and rinse the bowl out before putting it in the dishwasher.

  “What do you want to do today?” I ask her.

  We have a little more unpacking to do, but there really isn’t that much. We actually need to go shopping to get things, but I’m a bit scared to use that word with Thea. I know if I broach the idea we’ll be gone all day.

  “I want to wallow.”

  I lean across the counter to her. “This isn’t the end of the world, sweetheart.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to carry the baby for nine months. You have a job—a career—that you love, and I’m an incubator.”

  I try not to laugh, but it’s futile, she’s not amused, though.

  “I’m serious.” She glares at me for laughing.

  “It won’t be as bad as you think. We’re going to have a son or daughter, Thea. A little person that’s half me and half you. Think about how amazing that is.”

  “Yeah, a little person that’s going to scream, eat, and poop non-stop for the first year. Then it’ll start walking and talking, and our lives will truly be over.” She blows out a breath and it stirs the hair around her face.

  I reach out and cover her hand in mine. “I know that this baby is going to change our lives, I’m not stupid, but I also think it’s going to better us.”

  “How?” she asks, her lower lip pouting out a bit. I don’t think she even means to do it, and I can’t stop myself from rubbing my thumb over it.

  “I think this baby is going to teach us to be more humble and responsible people.”

  She swallows thickly. “I’m really going to have to work on the swearing.”

  I laugh in agreement. I don’t swear as much as she does, but it’s enough. “We’ll get a swear jar,” I tell her, curling my hand into her hair. “A quarter for every time we curse.”

  “We’ll be able to go on a month long European vacation in no time.”

  I smirk. “With your mouth—make it a whole year.”

  “Hey!” she cries in offense and swipes at me, so I jump away, pulling her hair by accident in the process. “Ow! Oh, it’s on now!”

  She launches off the chair and at me. I turn to run, but she launches at my back like a fucking spider monkey.

  I’m not expecting it and I start to go down. I manage to catch myself before my knees hit the ground, and I stand there with Thea hanging around my neck.