Page 27 of The Best Friend Problem
“Great. I understand you’ve chosen a donor.”
“Yes, it was a tough decision, but I think I picked the perfect candidate.” She hoped. The probability of her screwing up as a parent at some point in her child’s life was a guarantee, but she hoped she would at least start out on the right foot with a perfect donor selection.
“Wonderful.” Dr. Richardson smiled. “Let me just have a look at your chart and we can see how everything…”
The doctor’s words fell away, her dark brow furrowing as she glanced at Pru’s chart.
“Huh, there appears to be a slight issue.”
Her heart jumped into her throat, clogging the airway, making it impossible to breathe. Dreams started to crash around her, shattering before they’d even had a chance to actualize.
Calm down, she simply said issue not impossibility. You don’t know what’s going on. Chill out and ask.
Sucking in a deep breath, she listened to her inner self and pushed down her fear. Clearing her throat, she tried her best to sound cool and collected as she asked, “Was there a problem with one of my tests?”
Please say no, please say no, please say no.
“No.”
Oh, thank goodness.
“No problem, but it appears from your urine sample and blood work that you don’t need a donor after all.”
What? Of course she needed a donor. How could she not need a—
“You’re pregnant.”
“I’m…what now?”
“Pregnant. Just a few weeks along. When was the start of your last cycle?”
She struggled to think of anything at the moment, let alone the first day of her last period. She was pregnant? Somehow, she had the cognitive ability to open up the cycle app on her phone and relay the important information.
“Okay.” The doctor wrote something down on the chart. “So, conception likely would have happened two weeks ago. Have you had any new sexual partners?”
Two weeks ago? Then that meant…
Oh no.
No, no, no, no, no.
She didn’t know why she was bothering to do the math or was surprised by the realization. There was only one person she’d had sex with in the last year. One person she’d celebrated with, gotten drunk with, thrown caution to the wind with. And, now she realized, in her inebriated state that night, had forgotten to secure some form of birth control with.
There was only one option. Only one answer.
She was sitting in a fertility clinic, pregnant with her best friend’s baby.
Pru sat in her car in the parking lot of her apartment building. She didn’t remember driving here. She didn’t remember leaving the doctor’s office. After Dr. Richardson came in and dropped the baby news on her, she’d gone blank. Going through the motions, listening to explanations and instructions, then somehow, she’d arrived here. At home.
Pregnant, but not in the way she expected. Not in the way she’d planned.
It happened. It’s done. Plans change.
This was a pretty damn big change.
Nothing to do now but move forward. Put one foot in front of the other and make a new plan. First step of the new plan was getting out of the car.
She opened the door, sliding out and shutting it behind her. Step one accomplished. Now onto step two: entering her home and telling her friends.
