Page 45 of Dissonance

Time moved without me yesterday. The skyline shifted from pinky-blue hues to midnight black, and I watched it happen, distant, detached, like it had nothing to do with me.

After that, the night comes back in pieces. The walk home, my keys fumbling in the lock, the bottle of wine open on the counter, the glass I poured out of habit, lifting it to my lips before the smell hit—strawberries and red currants—and then the nurse’s voice came back so loud it felt like she was standing beside me.

This morning isn’t any clearer. My thoughts are more chaotic than they were yesterday. I stopped at the pharmacy on the way in, standing in the aisle for so long that someone asked if I needed help, staring at the boxes of tests like the brand might somehow change the answer.

It’s not like I needed them, yet here they are, spread out across my desk, sitting on top of a layer of paper towels. Ten of them, in a neat little line, all face down, and I haven’t looked at a single one. As long as I don’t flip them over, there’s still a version of this where it isn’t real.

I press my fingertip to my lips and stare at them. My heel starts to bounce before I pace away to the window and back, the same route since I came out of the bathroom, long past the point where the results would be readable.

It doesn’t matter. I already know.

Mae’s knock on my door is soft, but I still flinch, heart lurching as she pushes inside, her infectious smile in place, a mug in each hand, and files tucked under her arm.

“Good morning,” she sing-songs. “How did the music video shoot go? Did Tyler behave himself, or did—”

She stops, eyes widening when she sees the brace on my wrist.

“Holy shit, what happened?” Rushing forward, she stops short, the coffee cup hovering mid-air as a quiet gasp slips out.

“I, um.” She clears her throat. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but I absolutely am. Are those what I think they are?”

I close my eyes for a second and breathe in. When I open them, she’s looking at each test in the line.

“Have you looked?”

I shake my head. “Don’t need to. The nurse already confirmed it.”

She frowns, lips pressing into a flat line. The coffee cup finally lowers, files set down next to it, careful not to disturb the well-organized row of plastic. “So if you flip them over, they’d all say the same thing?”

I swallow, arms curling around my middle, careful of my wrist. “Yeah. Probably.”

“But you thought store-bought pregnancy tests would somehow be more accurate than a hospital one?”

A half-laugh, half-huff escapes me, the sound flat even to my own ears. “I don’t know what I thought.”

She doesn’t push or try to fill the silence with reassurances I’m not ready to hear. She just stands there, and I’m oddly grateful for it.

“Does Lockie know?”

I nod once. “He was there.”

Mae exhales slowly. My throat tightens unexpectedly, and I look away before she can see it. It’s not like she’s even said anything, but thinking about Lockie, how I haven’t heard from him since he dropped me off outside my office, makes it hard to breathe.

He’s respecting your boundaries.

I turn to the window, focusing on the trees down below, the wind gently rustling their branches. I’ve spent my whole adult life watching other people live theirs at a distance—old college friends getting engaged, having children—lives unfolding in pretty aesthetics on a screen, while I was in another city, another time zone, building something entirely different. It never felt like I was missing out. I was just on a different path, and children weren’t part of that.

My work was what I was growing, and I couldn’t afford the distraction. No divided attention, no complicated optics, no reason for anyone to look at what I was building and wonder if I’d had help getting there. Every relationship I didn’t pursue, every night I chose the office over the alternative, every time I drew a line with Lockie and made myself hold on to it—all of it fed the same argument. Work had to come first. The work was proof. I was enough; I earned my place.

And now… I look down at my flat stomach. I’m going to do this. Underneath all the shock and the fog and the ridiculous number of tests on my desk, it was never a decision. So what if it’s not what I planned? I’m Thea fucking Calloway. I built a successful career from nothing. I can sure as hell do this too.

“You don’t have to be here today,” Mae says, pulling me from my thoughts. “I can move everything. Block off your calendar for as long as you need.”

Turning to face her, I smile. “Thank you. I just… I need to be doing something.”

She nods like she understands, eyes darting to the tests, then to my stomach before they’re back on my face. “You’re not alone in this.”

“She won’t be.”