Page 71 of (Not) The One
18
Miranda
ACCIDENT
/aks?'d?nt(?)l/
Adjective
happening by chance, unintentionally, or unexpectedly.Hell to the yes.
Synonyms
Fortuitous. Erm, not.
Occurring by accident. Maybe my picture should be hyperlinked here
Adventitious.What does that even mean?
Fluky.I think I’ll stop there.
I’ve never understoodwhy some people insist on taking their phones to the bathroom. It always seemed so unsanitary. And I still think so. Yet here I sit, contemplating the definition of accidental while trying hard not to hyperventilate.
After—James? Harry?James—left me lying against Olivia’s desk like a limp noodle earlier, I’d blinked, confused.My crumpled clothing, my pounding insides, the look on his face. Urgh. I can’t think of any of it. But quick on the heels of that came a crushing sense of embarrassment, shortly followed by rage.The bastard—the absolute provoking, annoying bastard!I’d silently seethed because I didn’t want to make the kind of noise that would bring Heather running into the room.
As much as I’d wanted to stomp my way down the stairs, have a good scream, kick a couple of things, then maybe burn an effigy of James bloody Harrison, I couldn’t. Not with Heather the inquisitor in the office downstairs, positively vibrating with questions. So I’d done the only thing I could think of, which was creep down the staircase all the way to the ground floor, taking myself off for a brisk walk to burn off all the angry energy.
And it worked. To a certain degree. I’d walked long enough and stompy enough for me to realise that I’d brought this upon myself. If I’d truly wanted him to stay away, I would’ve said so. And he would have because he’s the honourable type.
Even when he’s behaving dishonourably, strangely.
If I’d really meant what I said, I wouldn’t have whimpered from need as he caressed my breast, and I certainly wouldn’t have verbally sparred with him, building the heat between us until it became combustible. He says he’s interested in me, not just in fucking me. That he wants to get to know me—that he wants me to get to know him.
But will he still feel the same when I tell him about this, I wonder as I sit on the lid of the toilet, staring down at the blue and white pee stick in my hand. I even went for the expensive brand, figuring I’d only need to do this once to prove that I’d eaten dodgy canapes and not gotten myself in the family way. Not that I’m the only one responsible. In fact, at this moment in time, I’m blaming him because I didn’t put those condoms on.
So, expensive pee stick. No confusing lines for me. It seems pretty definitive as I stare down and read the accusation printed on the screen.
Pregnant.
Because after James had left me stompy and angry, I’d passed the pharmacy and decided to get a pregnancy test. And now I wish I’d just gone for that bloody sandwich instead.
Carbs are easy to process.
Being pregnant by someone you barely know is not so simple.
19
Miranda
‘I can’t believe it.Harry is hot neighbour dude?’ Heather pauses, a dainty teacup paused mid-air. ‘I feel a bit icky now that I know I’ve been perving over him.’
‘What? Why?’
Thankfully, by the time I’d returned to the office, Jorge was there, too. Crisis averted and interrogation postponed until the evening when I’d suggested and alternative to happy hour cocktails by way of an early dinner. My treat, of course, at a nearby gastro pub.
This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have anesthetised. Her, I mean. My days of drinking might well be behind me for a while. Actually, the way I feel about alcohol in all forms right now is kind of like how the Wicked Witch of the West must’ve felt like looking at that bucket of water.
But I digress, as we wash down our food—pie and mash for her, chicken soup for me—with beverages of the very dull kind.
