This can’t be happening.

I covered my mouth with my hand. I wasn’t going to be able to speak without either crying or stuttering, so I kept my mouth shut.

Apparently, he didn’t require an answer. “It’s pretty late and I want to catch a nap before heading out, so maybe just,” he waved toward the bedroom door as he turned away from me, curling on his side, “go get a massage or something at the spa. You can charge it to the room. My treat.”

I couldn’t move.

I was rooted in place, my mind complete chaos. It was like one of those horrible movies or television shows where the woman wakes up and she’s in an alternate reality.

Maybe I’d been drugged?

But no, I hadn’t been drugged. I remembered each detail perfectly. Every look, every touch, every word, every wonderful moment.

My stomach pitched. An intense wave of nausea rocked through me. I was going to be sick. Running for the bathroom, I slammed the door shut behind me. I had just enough time to lift the toilet lid before emptying the contents of my stomach into the bowl.

As I flushed the toilet I heard Bryan’s voice call from the other room, “Jesus fecking Christ, tell me you didn’t vomit all over the floor. Just . . . just get the feck out of here, whatever your name is.”

***

~Three Months Later~

I’m a stupid girl.

A stupid, stupid, stupid—

“Eilish? Hey, let me in. Is it time yet? What does it say?”

I covered my mouth to suffocate the errant sob, squeezing my eyes shut, and hoping when I opened them it would be three months ago, the night of Ronan and Annie’s wedding. The night I’d fucked up so royally that I’d apparently acquired the superpower of changing the color of HCG strips with my pee.

WITH MY PEE!

Which meant I had a new human inside me.

Which explained all my other superpowers, like being a raging bitch all the time, and crying at nothing, and throwing up twice every day.

I’d totally fucked up, and now I was totally fucked.

“What am I going to do?” I whispered to no one, every nerve ending burning with panic.

Wait, that’s not true. I wasn’t alone in the bathroom. There were two of us in here. Granted, one of us was the size of a peanut—or maybe a lemon by now—and was swimming in amniotic fluid.

INSIDE MY UTERUS!

Why all my thoughts were in capital letters, I had no idea. Plus, every thought was followed by dun, dun, DUN!

“I don’t want to rush you, darling. But you’re making me nervous,” my cousin Sean’s voice called from the other side of the door.

Sweet Sean. Nice Sean. Wonderful Sean.

THANK GOD FOR SEAN!

. . . dun dun DUN!

A burst of hysterical laughter escaped my fingers. This wasn’t happening, not to me. My friend Josey was the one who gave her heart too freely, not me. Never me.

Nadia was all business with confidence for miles, Josey was the romantic, and I was the subversive one, the smart-arse. Josey cried on our shoulders, not the other way around.

You won’t cry on their shoulders because you can’t tell them.

I opened my eyes. I looked at the white stick and the two pink lines staring back at me. It hadn’t been a dream. This was real. And this was a complete nightmare.

“I’m p-p-p-pregnant.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, so long I wondered if he’d heard me or if I’d spoken at all.

I was just about to repeat myself when Sean said, “Open the door, my darling girl. Let me in.”

So I did. I let him in. And when he came in, he gathered me in his arms and held me against his big chest. I didn’t cry. My mind was blank.

We stood for a time, I had no idea how long, and then Sean said, “You’re going to have to tell the father.”

I stiffened. I heard the words. I knew—rationally speaking—he was right. But every fiber of my being rejected his assertion.

LIKE HELL.

. . . dun dun DUN!

Since that horrible morning, I hadn’t seen or spoken to Bryan Leech, but I’d followed what he’d been doing—or rather, who he’d been doing. He had a new girlfriend. They’d been dating for two months. She was an actress. She had red hair.

Apparently, he had a thing for redheads.

Bryan had made no attempt to contact me—after all, he hadn’t even known my name—so I decided not to care. This consisted of me emphatically Not. Caring. by going to concerts and clubs with my two best friends, drinking too much, and making out with strangers.

I AM THE WORST MOTHER EVER.

. . . dun dun DUN!

I couldn’t think because there were too many things to think about. I sent a desperate prayer upward, begging God, striking a bargain: if this child was okay, if my drinking and partying over the last few months left this little person untouched, then I would never, ever drink alcohol ever again.

Please oh please oh please . . .

“Did you hear me, Eilish? You’ll have to tell the father.” Sean hugged me tighter.

I nodded distractedly. At this point I was fairly certain Bryan Leech had forgotten I existed. I knew with complete certainty he would have absolutely no interest in my child.

“Nothing has to be decided now.” Sean kissed my forehead, prying the pee stick from my fingers and placing it gingerly in the sink. “Come have a cup of tea. Lucy sent over a new peppermint blend from that shop you like in New York, Tea and Sympathy.”

Lucy was Sean’s girlfriend and one of my favorite people in the world. She lived in New York and Sean lived in Dublin, except when he was traveling with the team. Sean and Bryan were teammates, part of the Irish National Rugby team. They weren’t exactly friends, but they were friendly.