Читать книгу Until You Loved Me - Бренда Новак - Страница 13

5

The next seven weeks were every bit as difficult as Ellie had feared. Initially, Don had been penitent enough to smile or try to speak to her as a friend might when they passed in the halls or had to interact at work, but he quickly grew resentful that she wasn’t doing more to help his family adapt to his new lifestyle. Apparently they were still having a problem with his sexual orientation or they didn’t like Leo or something. But Ellie wasn’t trying to subvert him. She didn’t feel it was her place to get involved. She had her own problems, was struggling to get over the rejection and adjust to a very different future than the one she’d planned.

Sadly, Don and Leo didn’t see it that way. They shot her pouty, sullen looks whenever they were in the same meeting together, and they were in a lot of meetings since the entire staff gathered often to go over recent progress, set current priorities and discuss the merits of outside projects. Others in the room could feel the tension between them and would shift nervously—or worse, begin to whisper. Ellie always felt as though they were talking about her, because they probably were. Poor Dr. Fisher. Can you imagine what it would be like to find your fiancé in bed with another man?

To make matters worse, with her parents away, she had nothing to do in the evenings. She was used to spending most of her leisure time with Don, Don’s family or his cat (if he was “golfing” with Leo), and now all those people, as well as his pet, were out of her life. Although Amy invited her to go clubbing almost every weekend, so far she’d refused. She’d enjoyed that night at Envy—probably too much—but she wasn’t looking for a repeat. She wasn’t really the kind of person who did things like that, and she didn’t want to leave herself vulnerable to what could go wrong if something similar were to happen again. She knew she was unlikely to enjoy another fairy-tale ending like the last one.

Instead, she tried to ignore the emptiness of her personal life by chasing her dream of finding a safe and reliable method to protect transplanted insulin-producing islet cells, so no one else would have to suffer the way her aunt had. As it stood now, without harsh immunosuppressant drugs, the immune system saw the cells as foreign and destroyed them. Finding a way around that was important if transplantation was ever to become a routine solution for diabetics.

So she told herself she didn’t mind spending longer and longer hours at the lab. Not only did the challenge keep her focused, it gave her a purpose.

But on a Saturday evening at the end of October, she hit a wall. Too exhausted to continue, she forced herself to knock off at six. She was planning to treat herself to a grilled cheese sandwich and some chocolate-chip cookies while watching the first season of Outlander. Diane DeVry, who headed up the fund-raising entity that supported the BDC, had brought in the first two seasons to share with her. And if Outlander didn’t “sweep her away” as Diane promised it would, she had several medical journals she’d been meaning to read.

Content with her plans, she almost didn’t answer the phone when Amy called as she was driving home. She was afraid her friend would once again try to press her into going to a club, and she wasn’t interested.

She let it ring four times before she knocked over her purse trying to catch the call. She figured she’d be a fool to alienate Amy. Amy was the only friend she had left—other than her colleagues at the BDC, almost all of whom had families they went home to at night, worked the same crazy hours she did or sided with Don.

She turned into the driveway of her rental house as she answered.

“What are you doing tonight?” Amy asked.

Ellie thought it was terribly nice of her friend to continue to reach out. She probably would’ve given up by now were she in Amy’s shoes. But Amy was far more persistent than she was. Thank goodness. Even if she didn’t see Amy often, hearing from her brought Ellie some comfort. “You wouldn’t approve,” she said.

“You’re still at work.”

She pressed the button that activated her garage door. “It isn’t quite as bad as that. Just got home.”

“Wonderful. At least you can’t tell me you’re too busy saving the world to go out tonight.”

“I don’t want to go to a club, Amy.”

“I was going to suggest a movie.”

“You’d miss dressing up for Halloween to go to a movie?”

“I’ll celebrate Halloween tomorrow night. Since it’s on a Sunday, this is kind of a weird year, anyway.”

“Then how about an Outlander marathon at my place?”

“You have Outlander?”

“Someone at work lent it to me, promised I’d like it.”

“I’ve seen a few episodes and I’ve been meaning to watch the rest. It’s impossible not to fall in love with the actor who plays James Fraser.”

“That should be safe, then. I can’t get hurt by a fictional character, right? Why don’t you come over?”

A slight pause indicated that Amy was still trying to decide. “Do you have any food?”

“I’ll soon have homemade chocolate-chip cookies.”

“I’m in.”

Ellie laughed. If Amy joined her tonight, she wouldn’t be able to bail out and study, but she figured that was okay. She needed to at least try to stop her world from shrinking down to work and only work. “Great. What time will you get here?”

“Give me an hour.”

“See you then.”

Ellie turned off the engine, lowered the garage door and released her seat belt. Before she could go in, she needed to gather up everything that’d spilled onto the passenger seat when she knocked over her purse.

She picked up the pretty business card case her parents had given her when she landed her job at the BDC, as well as her keys to the lab, some lip gloss, a condom she had left over from the night she’d gone to Envy—she wasn’t sure why she was keeping that—and a couple of tampons.

After a quick search between the seat and the console to check that she’d gotten everything, she was about to step out of the car when the purpose for those tampons registered. She hadn’t used any feminine hygiene products in a while. Wasn’t she due for a period?

She remained in her car as she counted back the days. Her last period was...before Don had broken up with her! Could that be true?

No! Or...maybe.

Her heart began to thump. Yes, it was true. She was late. And not by a mere few days. Her period had just ended when she caught Don in her bed with Leo. Perhaps she would’ve noticed that it had been a long time had she not been so caught up in trying to adjust to the radical changes in her life...

But...what did late mean? It wasn’t so unusual, was it? Lots of things could cause a delay. Stress was one of them. Stress could wreak havoc on a body.

Except...it had never wreaked any havoc on hers. Not to the point that she’d skipped a period. She’d always been regular—so regular that she never paid much attention to her cycle. That part of her life was something she dealt with automatically. It wasn’t as though she ever got cramps or a headache or anything else that made menstruating more than a minor annoyance.

But seven weeks! That was a significant delay, which hinted at a problem beyond stress.

“Oh, God.” She broke into a cold sweat as the possibility of a pregnancy loomed in her mind.

She brought up the calendar on her smartphone. She’d learned about Don’s affair with Leo on September 7. The hair appointment she’d had that same day confirmed that she couldn’t have confused the date. She was staring at the notation for the appointment right now. Afterward, instead of heading straight back to the lab, she’d swung by her place to put a roast and some vegetables in the slow cooker. She’d thought it would be a nice surprise for Don if she had a hot meal ready when they got off work. But she’d come home to see Leo’s car in her driveway. If it had been Don’s car, she probably would’ve entered the condo calling out his name. Finding him here would’ve been unusual, since he was supposed to be at work, but not as unusual as seeing Leo’s vehicle. So, wondering what was going on, she’d entered without making any noise. A sickening unease in the pit of her stomach suggested she was about to find something she wouldn’t like, and that had proven true. Only moments after entering, she’d heard moaning—coming from her bedroom.

She cringed at the memory of how she’d slipped down the hall. Although she didn’t want to recall what she’d seen when she opened the door, it was that shocking incident that made it impossible to forget or confuse the date.

But...was she sure she hadn’t had a period since?

Positive. She’d gone off the Pill two months earlier because she’d started to suffer from nausea and headaches and her doctor had recommended stopping it, at least for a while. She and Don had been using condoms since then. But they hadn’t been together in that way for at least two weeks before she found him with Leo—well before her last period. She and Don had both been too intent on separate projects at work.

The only man she’d slept with after that was...Hudson.

Although her phone was going off again, she couldn’t bring herself to even reach into her purse. She sat there, frozen in terror, scarcely breathing as she stared blankly at the bare wood studs of the garage walls. Surely, after everything she’d been through, she wasn’t carrying a child. That wouldn’t be fair. She’d slept with only three men in her life, and she was nearly thirty! And she’d had just that one one-night stand. Even then she’d used birth control. Hudson had worn one of the condoms Leslie had given her every time.

She was shaking as she withdrew her phone so she could access the internet. “How reliable are condoms?” she typed into Google and nibbled on her bottom lip while waiting for the links to appear. One website said that “male condoms” were “82–98 percent” effective. Another rated their effectiveness at 85 percent.

“Eighty-five,” she mumbled, feeling shell-shocked. Eighty-five meant there was still a significant chance of pregnancy. Why didn’t more people talk about the failures? Why did everyone act as though a condom was sufficient?

Her phone rang while she held it, startling her since she was already so jumpy. Amy. The call she’d missed had also come from Amy. No doubt her friend couldn’t understand why she wasn’t picking up; they’d just talked.

Closing her eyes, Ellie leaned against the headrest as she answered. “Hello?” she said, but the word came out so softly, so breathy, she wasn’t sure Amy could hear her.

Amy paused before responding. “Hello?” she said, far more stridently than before. “Ellie? Is that you?”

“Yes, I’m here,” Ellie replied, but she was holding her stomach with one hand.

“I was going to ask if you’d like me to pick up some takeout on my way over. But...you sound strange. Is something wrong?”

Ellie considered lying. She wanted to lie—to herself, too. But what good would it do to hide from the truth? She was too practical for that. If she was pregnant, a swollen belly would soon make it apparent to everyone. “Yes.”

“Did you say yes?” she squawked.

“I—I’m afraid I’m about to throw up.”

“Why? What’s wrong? Do you think you might have the flu?”

“No. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it? You’re scaring me!”

“Could you bring a pregnancy test when you come?”

“A what?”

Ellie couldn’t repeat the request. She was beginning to hyperventilate, needed to focus on slowing her breathing. That’s it. Calm down. In and out. Everything will be okay...somehow.

Fortunately, Amy caught on, even though Ellie couldn’t clarify at the moment. “Holy shit! Did you say what I think you said?”

“Yeah, I did. Can you get one?”

“Of course. I’m on my way over right now.”