Free Loneliness Trilogy Bundle Boxset by Alison Cole

says.
    His words shock me. Pregnant? Then I begin totting up my various symptoms. My breasts have been very tender and my favorite slim jeans no longer fit me properly. I look at Marcus, wondering if he could be right.
    “But…we’ve used…”
    “All but that one time, remember? Back in England, we made love without protection. I think it happened then - if you are…you know.” A wide grin spreads across Marcus’ face.
    I collapse onto the bed next to him. Lord! I think he’s right! A grin slowly makes its way to my face, too. “Oh, my God! I think you might be right! Can we stop at an apothecary shop and get one of those pregnancy tests?”
    “A pharmacy, you mean? I think we’d better! If you are, you need to be taking care of yourself, my love,” Marcus says.
    I look at my watch. “Practice isn’t for another hour and a half. Can you Google the closest pharmacy so we can buy a test?”
    Twenty minutes later, we’re standing in the checkout line, a test in hand. Marcus bolts for the testing aisle again and comes back with a second test.
    I crook an eyebrow at him. “Two tests? One is sufficient,” I say.
    “I want to be doubly sure,” he says. “Once we know, you’ll need to get the best prenatal care and, when we return to England, you’re going to start seeing a doctor or midwife,” he says.
    I goggle at him. He’s really looking forward to papa-hood! Back in our room, we read the instructions. Marcus grabbed a different brand from what I had grabbed, so we read both sets of instructions. Following the instructions, I pee on both sticks and we wait for the specified amounts of time. Marcus tells me when each test should show the results and we peer at both. Both have strong pink or blue lines, indicating that I am definitely pregnant! I collapse onto the closed toilet lid. Well, no wonder! I think to my older sister’s symptoms and realize that I should have caught on much earlier. I thought I was so emotional and sick because of Marcus!
    Marcus looks at me with joy brimming from his eyes. Gathering me tenderly into his arms, he says, “I love you, you know. I love our little baby, tiny as he - or she - is.”
    I begin to cry out of joy and fear.
    “Oh, my God! Marcus, what if my depression hurt the baby?”
    Marcus is struck silent.
    “The only way we’ll know is if we find a clinic and have you and our little one checked out,” he tells me.
    “I don’t want to say anything to the guys yet. Let’s see what a doctor says, then we can break the happy news to them,” I decide.
    “Good idea. I’ll Google clinics.”
    We’re in Norfolk, Virginia, and it is bloody hot. We take a taxi to the clinic Marcus identified online. By the time we get there, the cigarette smoke and body odors in the cab, as well as the heat, get to me. As soon as we walk into the clinic, I’m seeking out a bathroom. Spotting the now-familiar women’s toilets, I bolt as Marcus signs us in. Forty-five minutes later, we’re discussing my symptoms and the pregnancy test results with the young, Hispanic doctor. She gives us a friendly smile and orders urine and blood tests for me. When she comes back with my chart, she smiles again.
    “Congratulations, mom and dad! You are definitely pregnant. I’ll need to conduct a pelvic exam so I can estimate your baby’s approximate conception date.”
    I give Dr. Martinez the date of my last menstrual period. I am obsessive about that, so I know it very well. With that and the uncomfortable pelvic exam, she tells me that I am about four months pregnant. My eyes widen. How could I have gone so long without knowing? I tell her about my sadness and difficulty adjusting when Marcus was still in England.
    “Will that hurt my baby?”
    “Not likely. How did you eat? Did you drink alcohol? Use drugs?”
    “I ate. I’ve always loved food. No booze or drugs - although, before we left England, we did visit a pub a few times.”
    “As long as drinking isn’t a daily occurrence and