Chapter 76

I pause for a second, my brain refusing to process what I’m seeing. Two lines. Bold as hell, too. Not even faint, not even giving me room for doubt. I’m pregnant. Oh, my god. The stick feels heavier than it should, like it’s made of lead instead of plastic. I sink down onto the closed toilet seat, legs too weak to keep holding me up. My hand instinctively moves to my stomach, pressing against the fabric of my dress. I don’t know what I’m hoping to find, maybe a baby kick or something ridiculous like that. Pregnant. How? The question turns through my mind, absurd and almost laughable. I mean, I know how, biologically speaking, but after all these years, after every single failure, I’d accepted—no, resigned myself to the idea—that it wasn’t going to happen for me. “Seven years,” I whisper to no one, the words tasting bitter. Seven years of treatments, tears, hormone shots, and endless invasive tests that always ended the same: Sorry, Mrs. O’Brien. It’s not you. We can’t explain it. Oh, b