Chapter 1

 

 

There were certain moments in your life that you dreaded. Losing your loved ones, spending Christmas alone, being stood up on a date, and watching a pregnancy test as the timer counted down.

The latter was the nightmare I was currently experiencing. I had four and a half minutes left as I waited for the little stick to show one or two blue lines. One meant no baby, two meant I was going to be a mama.

I really didn’t want to be a mother. I was only twenty-five, I didn’t know how to look after myself let alone an infant. I was probably the most irresponsible person on the planet. I mean, clearly, considering I was sitting in my bedroom alone on a Sunday morning watching a pregnancy test develop. I obviously wasn’t the responsible type.

I hoped I was just being paranoid. I didn’t know what it felt like to be pregnant, the whole thing could just be in my mind. Right? If it wasn’t for my damn period being two weeks late, I might have been able to fool myself into believing everything was alright. That’s how I got through the previous week – denial. By the second week, it is panic stations.

I would have to keep the baby if there were two lines on the test. I couldn’t get rid of it like it was a mistake. It was an accident, yes, but it wasn’t the little tyke’s fault the universe chose me to be its parent.

There was always adoption, I guessed. But I had never been a quitter. Irresponsible, reckless, idiotic, but not a quitter. I couldn’t bear the thought of my offspring being out in the world without me.

Oh God, I was already getting attached to it. I couldn’t be pregnant, I didn’t want to be. It wasn’t in my life plan. I used to be so sensible. If it wasn’t for the damn car accident that almost took my life, I would still have been on track with my plans. It had thrown my life into disarray and told me to live to the fullest. I had been carefree and footloose ever since.

Yeah, well, good one Caroline, pregnancy tests happened when you swayed from the life plan. I guessed it was probably too late to get back on track. Unless there was only one line in four minutes time.

I hated surprises, I always had for as long as I could remember. Bad things happened when you least expected them. Surprises were nothing more than horrible things in disguise.

My own mom was going to freak if I had to tell her she was going to be a grandmother. We had a shaky relationship to begin with, that kind of news might break our family bond all together.

Not that she would be much help anyway. I guessed I could do the exact opposite of how she raised me, that might work when raising my child. I wouldn’t take it to bars when it was a toddler, I wouldn’t turn up at parent-teacher day drunk, and I definitely wouldn’t sleep with its boyfriend on its sixteenth birthday.

I definitely needed that test to be negative. Periods were late all the time, right? I was sure I wasn’t the only woman to freak and then find out it was a false alarm. It was just the universe’s way of telling me to be more careful. Right? God, I hoped so.

My life plan said to have a child at twenty-eight and a half. I would have been married for two years to a wonderful, doting husband. My career would actually exist, and money wouldn’t be a problem. When my husband and I waited for the pregnancy test together, we would be eagerly hoping for a positive. Then we would jump for joy and celebrate.

I wasn’t supposed to be sitting in my tiny bedroom by myself and dreading seeing two lines. I was supposed to be living the fairy tale ending. This was more like the nightmare someone had in a movie before they woke up screaming.

But a baby, surely that couldn’t be a nightmare? They had cute little chubby cheeks, big bug-like eyes, and they smelt like talcum powder.

And they cried, and teethed, and pooped. Babies were expensive. I wouldn’t be able to keep working full-time, but then how was I going to pay the bills? I didn’t have any family besides my mother and there was no way I was leaving an innocent child with her. I wouldn’t hate my offspring enough for that.

The last five seconds started counting down on the timer, each second giving a bleep of its own. It was truth time. My life was about to completely change, or it would be an incredible relief.

Four Seconds.

What was I even supposed to do if there were two lines? Did I have to go to the doctor or something? Did I have to change what I eat? I’d heard somewhere a pregnant woman shouldn’t eat fish. Why the hell not?

Three seconds.

I wasn’t pregnant, there was no way I was carrying a child. I was always so careful with contraception. Surely that kind of sensibility should pay off? The box said birth control, surely they wouldn’t lie?

Two seconds.

Stretch marks and saggy boobs, not to mention swollen ankles and heartburn. That’s what a baby did to your body, not that inexplicable glow you always heard about. I was smarter than the propaganda to get females to have babies.

One second.

My period was going to come. It would probably arrive tomorrow and I would laugh about this. Or maybe I would cry about it, that was a likely response with all the period hormones and everything. It was fine, the test was totally going to be negative. I was worrying for nothing.

Ding.

Time was up. I reached for the little stick that would decide my fate. I closed my eyes as I held it, terrified of opening them again. One line, no baby. Two lines, mamahood.

I couldn’t procrastinate any further, I had to do it. I opened my eyes and took a peek. I had to blink a few times to make sure I was seeing right.

There, on the white stick, were two lines. I was pregnant and nothing would ever be the same again. That decided, now I only had one huge problem – who the hell was the father?