The Moment We Began (A Fairhope New Adult Romance) (8 page)

I’m sobbing now, thinking about what he’s
saying.

He’s right. I could have killed someone. I
could have died.

Mom puts her arm around my shoulder and kisses the
top of my head. She rubs my back as I cry. “Go a little easy on
her, Tripp. She’s still really shaken up over this,” she
says. “Come on, Penny, look at me.”

She pulls my hands away from my face, but I don’t
want to look in her eyes. I’ve disappointed my parents plenty
of times before, but after this, I’m afraid they’ll never
see me the same way again.

Maybe no one will.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

I slowly lift my eyes to hers and she gives me a
small smile.

“We’ll talk about all this later,
okay? Your father and I are just glad you’re alright,”
she says. “The doctor said you’re extremely lucky to be
alive. Other than a few scrapes and bruises, he says you’re
going to be just fine. That’s what’s important right
now.”

“Am I going to jail?” I ask, my voice
trembling.

Her eyes flick toward my father, then back at me.
She shakes her head. “We’re going to take care of
everything,” she says. “You just concentrate on getting
some rest and getting better.”

Relief floods through me, but it’s mixed
with guilt. I know they’ll have to call in some favors to make
this disappear, and it isn’t really fair.

“What about Mason’s car?”

“Shhhh,” she says, patting my hand.
“Let us deal with all that.”

The door opens and the doctor walks in. Dr.
Mallory is about my parents’ age, and he’s a friend of
theirs. He’s not usually an ER doctor, and I’m wondering
if my parents asked him to come in tonight. He smiles, clutching a
clipboard tight against his chest.

“I’m glad to see you awake,” he
says. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” I say. “A little bit
sick to my stomach.”

He pushes his glasses up on his nose. “All
very normal reactions,” he says. “But I would like to
talk to you in private for a few minutes, if your family doesn’t
mind.”

“If this is regarding her injuries, I’d
like to hear what you have to say,” my mother tells him.

Dr. Mallory clears his throat and lowers the
clipboard to his side. “I’d really prefer to talk to
Penny privately first,” he says. “She could really use
some more rest, anyway.”

“Of course,” Dad says. He releases his
tight grip on the rails, then pats my leg as he walks toward the
door.

Mom kisses my forehead. “We’ll be
right outside in the waiting room,” she says. “Hopefully
we can take you home soon.”

“It shouldn’t be too much longer,”
the doctor says.

He waits by the door as Preston, Mom, and Dad all
file out. Then, he closes it behind them and even watches through the
tiny window to make sure they’ve gone.

Worry knots in my stomach. What could be so awful
that he wouldn’t want to say it in front of my parents?

Dr. Mallory pulls up a rolling chair, then sits
down by my side. I sit up and he stuffs an extra pillow behind my
back.

“Better?” he asks.

I nod. “Am I dying?”

He smiles and shakes his head. “Far from
it,” he says. “Other than a few scrapes and bruises, your
injuries are really very minor compared to the severity of the crash.
We can have a plastic surgeon take a look at the cut on your jaw if
you’d like, but I don’t think it will scar too badly.”

I rest my hands on my lap, picking at the white
sheets that cover my legs. There’s a pulse monitor clamped on
my index finger and I tap it against the sheet.

“What’s wrong, then?”

“Nothing,” he says. “I just
wanted to let you know that as a precaution, the first responders
took a blood sample and ran a few tests. This is all standard
procedure, especially with young women. They often run a pregnancy
test just to ensure they don’t use any medications or
treatments that might adversely affect an unborn baby.”

I look up at him, my hands clutching the sheet and
my heart stopping in my chest. The room seems to be spinning again,
and I blink several times.

“What are you saying?”

“Penny, I’m saying your test came back
positive,” he says. “You’re pregnant.”

I stare at Dr. Mallory, my body rigid. I couldn’t
have possibly heard him right.

I feel dizzy and press my lips together so tight
it hurts.

“Judging by the look on your face, I am
assuming you didn’t know,” he says. “I had a
suspicion you didn’t since you were drinking this evening.”

My mouth falls open and I raise my hand up to my
collarbone.

The world tilts as I try to make sense of all the
thoughts spinning through my head. I’m going to have a baby.
Mason’s baby. And I’ve been drinking. Tears pour silently
down my cheeks. I can’t seem to stop them from coming.

“Have I…” my breath hitches and
I can’t put a voice to my fears. If I’ve hurt this baby,
I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

“I’d like to have one of my nurses
come in and help me perform an ultrasound to make sure the baby is
okay,” he says. “Do you remember the date of your last
period?”

I close my eyes and shake my head. I have no clue.
“Maybe a month ago?” I say. “Maybe a little over?”

My periods aren’t always regular, so I’m
not sure and my head is now pounding too hard for me to think
straight.

“Do you mind if we roll a cart in here and
take a look? I just want to make sure everything looks okay. And
maybe we can get a better idea of how far along you are.”

I swallow, but my mouth is so dry a lump seems to
stick my throat.

“I don’t want my parents to know,”
I say. “I don’t want anyone to know.”

In such a small town, gossip spreads faster than a
wildfire. Get the wrong nurse in here or the wrong person looking at
my file and everyone in town will know by noon tomorrow.

How am I going to tell Mason?

What the fuck am I going to do?

“I promise we won’t share this
information with your parents without your permission,” he
says. “If we’re discreet, you’re okay with doing
the ultrasound tonight?”

I am dazed, not even sure how to process all this
information. This is the last thing I expected to find out tonight.

“What about the alcohol?” I ask, panic
making my skin feel tingly and cold. “I had way too much to
drink. What if hurt the baby?”

My face crumples and I press my fist to my mouth.

“How often do you drink like this?” he
asks. “Every night? Once a week? Once a month?”

My hands begin to shake. “I had a lot to
drink last weekend,” I say. “But before that, it was
about a month.”

“Your blood alcohol level when you were
admitted was less than .10, and if you were only intoxicated twice
during your pregnancy so far, I would put your risk of complications
such as fetal alcohol syndrome as low,” he says. “However,
if you continue to drink during your pregnancy, that risk will
increase significantly.”

I shake my head, relieved but scared. “I
won’t,” I say.

He pats my shoulder. “I’m going to get
all the equipment we’ll need,” he says. “I’ll
be back in a moment. Is there anyone you want me to call? Someone
you’d like to be here with you when I perform the ultrasound?”

I think of Mason. He must be so pissed at me right
now. I made a fool of myself, trashed his car, and now this. I want
him here, but I don’t think he’d want to be here. I have
no idea how he would even react to this kind of news. If he didn’t
even want to be tied down by a relationship with me, he’s
definitely not going to want to start a family right now.

I bite my lip and run a trembling finger across my
forehead.

I don’t want any of my friends here, either.
They won’t understand. There’s only one person I can
think of that I can totally trust to support me through this.

“Can you get my brother for me?”

Preston is standing at my side when the image pops
up on the monitor.

I have no idea what I’m looking at. The
screen just looks like round black and white blob with a dark black
oval in the middle. Nothing in there looks even remotely like a baby.

The doctor moves the wand around, then settles on
one location and stares up the screen, his forehead wrinkled and
intense.

“What is it? Is everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer at first. He moves the
mouse around and a couple of measurements pop up on the screen. I
squint my eyes, trying to make sense of it. Under the sheet, my toes
tap against the bed. Why isn’t he saying anything?

“Doctor?” Preston asks. “What
exactly are we looking at here? Is the baby alright?”

Dr. Mallory smiles, but doesn’t take his
eyes from the screen. “See this black part in the middle?”
he asks. “That’s your uterus.”

My heart is pounding and I stare in awe at what
he’s showing me.

“And here,” he says, circling the
pointer around a tiny grey blob that is barely sticking out into the
black part. “This is your baby.”

I can’t take my eyes off the tiny little
spot. My heart aches and tightens and I think I’ve never felt
so in love with anything in my whole life. I raise the back of my
hand to my mouth and exhale, almost laughing.

“So he’s okay?”

“He or she,” the doctor says, glancing
toward me with a smile. “We won’t know that answer for a
couple of months, yet, but for right now, the baby seems to be doing
great. See this little flicker of light on the screen?”

I lean forward and see a pulse of light.

“That’s your baby’s heartbeat.
Nice and strong,” he says.

I dissolve into tears for about the tenth time in
two hours, but these tears are different. This is a flood of relief
and joy and a sudden, paralyzing fear. I am pregnant.

Preston hugs me and we both stare at that tiny
flicker, unable to take our eyes off of it.

“Holy shit, Penny,” he says. “You’re
going to be a mommy.”

I sniff and wipe the tears from my face. I can
hardly believe this moment is real.

“From the measurements, I would say you’re
right at around five and a half weeks pregnant,” Dr. Mallory
says. He pulls out a little paper chart, moves a few things around
and then nods. “That puts your due date in early April.”

Five and a half weeks. I try to think backwards to
when this happened. I’ve been on birth control pills for the
past couple of years, but I’ve gotten careless about taking
them. I tried setting alarms on my phone as a reminder, but in the
past few months, I sometimes missed days at a time. I guess I never
thought that much about it, because Mason almost always used condoms,
too.

I thought between the two things, we were being
safe enough.

But somewhere along the way, a forgotten pill and
a moment of passion came together at just the wrong—or
right—time.

Staring at that flickering heartbeat, I know that
my life will never be the same again.

My parents bring me home just after sunrise.

I know they have a lot more they want to say to
me, but for now, everyone is just too tired and too drained.

We separate to our own suites, but instead of
going back to his apartment, Preston comes with me to my room. I’m
so grateful he’s here for me. Without his support, I might have
already lost my mind.

“Can I get you anything?” he asks. “Or
if you want to get some rest, I can sleep on the couch out here for a
while.”

I reach inside my bag and pull out the bottle of
prenatal vitamins the doctor gave me. “Would you mind getting
me a glass of water?”

When he disappears to grab some water from the
kitchen, I search for my cell phone. I dial Mason’s number. I
have no idea what I am going to say to him, but we really need to
talk. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until I know
we’re okay. What am I going to do if he hates me?

The phone rings a couple of times. My heart skips
a beat when someone picks up, but then I realize it’s just
voicemail.

“It’s me,” I say. I hardly
recognize my own voice. There’s a weariness inside the sound
that goes deeper than just being tired. “I don’t even
know how to begin to apologize for last night. I really need to talk
to you. Please, call me.”

I hang up and toss the phone on the table beside
the couch. I sit down and pull my favorite fuzzy blanket over my
legs. I’m not really cold, but having something to wrap myself
inside feels good. Like a cocoon. I wonder if I sit here long enough
if I’ll somehow emerge a better person. Someone who doesn’t
make such stupid decisions over and over.

I pull my knees up tight against my chest and wrap
the blanket tighter.

When Preston comes back with the water, he opens
the bottle of prenatals and brings a couple over to me. I take them,
finishing off the entire glass of water in one gulp.

“Thanks.”

“Anything you need, sis. I mean it.”

I feel the tears starting again. It’s a
feeling that starts deep in my belly. A tightening that spreads
upward. I take a deep breath, but I’m too tense and tired. My
chest is too tight.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he
asks. He sits down against the opposite corner of the couch.

“I think I’m still in shock,” I
say. I run a shaky hand through my hair. It feels so dirty and heavy.
I desperately need a shower, but I don’t want to move from this
spot. “I don’t know whether I’m happy or upset or
just really, really scared.”

“I think that’s probably pretty normal
in this kind of situation,” he says. He looks away, his lips
pressed together and his forehead wrinkled up. “Penny, I don’t
want to say anything that’s going to upset you, but—”

“It’s okay,” I say. I can tell
from the struggle going on on his face that he wants to ask the tough
questions. “I think I already know what you’re going to
ask.”