Free Her Last Wish by Ema Volf Page B

even take it. Despite
my effort, I just couldn’t remember. I pushed myself to my feet. I wanted to
find out, anyways.
    “Hey, careful.” He held
out a protective hand to steady me as I stood on wobbly legs. “You don’t have
to do it right this second. I was just letting you know it’s there.”
    “Yeah, but I have to
know. I might as well get it over with”
    I grabbed the box and
hobbled to the bathroom myself, though I could feel his eyes on me as he
followed close behind. I closed the door behind me and struggled with the box
and the weird contraption inside it.
    After following the
instructions closely, I picked up the test and walked out the door. I passed
right by Professor Mason and placed the test on a piece of paper towel on the
kitchen counter. As I washed my hands, I glanced at the clock to see what time
I started it.
    Then … there was the
dreaded wait. I couldn’t stand it. I had to look away.
    “Let me know what it
says,” I told him.
    There were a few
minutes of absolute silence as the test did its thing. It was deafening.
    “Well,” he said a bit
unsteadily. “I think it’s time you start calling me Connor. At least outside of
class.”
    “Connor? Why?”
    “Because we’re
pregnant.”
     
     
    Chapter Thirteen
     
    Connor
     
    Despite all the
preparations in the world, it’s hard to imagine how such a small test that
barely requires anything to complete and the result that could come from it
could possibly make a person more nervous than any other test in their entire
lifespan. But that’s exactly what happened. I was slapped in the face with that
nervousness when that pregnancy test revealed its little pink plus sign. I had
nearly lost my ability to talk or breathe. I had known that the positive result
would eventually happen, but I doubted that I could have ever prepared myself
for the full official feeling. It surprisingly took a lot of effort to tell her
the results, though I tried my best to make light of the situation. And I
really did want her to stop calling me “Professor.” At that point, it felt
weird for her to do so. She carried my child, after all, even if we didn’t
exactly make it together. That thought felt a little strange, too. I wondered
how much that would add to my complicated feelings for her.
    Charlie seemed to be in
about the same state of shock that I was, but she handled it well. She simply
nodded and went back to the couch without saying anything. She remained there
most of the day. I stayed as late as I could to make sure she would be okay.
Unfortunately, I had to leave her once she grew tired enough to attempt a full
night’s sleep. I didn’t think she’d appreciate me staying the night, though I
absolutely would have stayed if it would make her feel any better about
anything.
    The next day was filled
with more of the same horrible sickness for Charlie. I cleared my schedule
again and drove her to the fertility clinic, hoping they might have something
that could help her. They ran their own test, confirming her pregnancy, and
started another round of blood work. They also gave her a prescription to help
with her extreme nausea, which we picked up immediately after leaving. She wanted
to wait until the end of the day to get it, something about classes being more
important, but I couldn’t watch her suffer for even a minute longer. Especially
since it was my fault, in the first place. If I had never told her about my
failure with the surrogate agencies, she’d have never volunteered and would
never have gotten sick in the first place.
    I figured the medicine
worked well for her, because she didn’t ask me for a ride home until the end of
the day. Seeing as how I’d been her ride to school, I had assumed I’d be taking
her home, anyways. The fact that she even felt she had to ask bothered me,
though. Had she tried to find another ride? And why was I taking it so
personally? Who cared who took her home as long as she got there safely? Apparently,
I