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–Me: It’s a long story. But he’s better than Jeffrey.

–Ailee: Isn’t that setting the bar kinda low?

–Me: He’s the best I’ve ever had.

–Ailee: Okay, that’s better. But is this rebound really wise?

–Me: A girl’s gotta put herself out there if she wants to find the love of her life and get married and start a family and all that. Princes on white horses don’t just come to you.

–Ailee: Okay, fair point. Anyway, tough call, but wouldn’t it be better to let them meet at the office rather than have her engineer a forced meeting in a more private setting?

–Me: You think so?

–Ailee: Based on what you said, she doesn’t seem like a person who’ll just roll over. And that way, you can have more control. Not only that, you’ll be there, too, in case she tries anything. You gotta guard your man.

Except I won’t even have to guard him for long. We’re done in a year. Less than a year. I wrinkle my nose, trying to pretend the notion doesn’t sting.Don’t think about that.Just enjoy the moment.

My phone buzzes with an alert.You haven’t recorded your period for the month.Don’t forget to update for more accurate predictions!

I tap the notification. The fertility and monthly cycle tracking app opens, showing I’m four days late. Although I’m not super regular, four days late is unusual. I tap my desk. Rhys and I engaged in safe sex, always with a condom.

Stress?

No. I’m not more stressed than normal. I was pissed that I ran into Trevor and Jeffrey, but that shouldn’t be enough to mess with my hormones. So what gives?

I go still as the memory of that first time with Rhys pops into my head. He didn’t have a condom, so we did it bare.But he pulled out. His swimmers shouldn't have been able to make their way to my vagina and up the cervix, could they?

I Google the probability of getting pregnant from the pull-out method. If used perfectly, four percent…but in real life,twenty percent. I’d like to believe Rhys timed it meticulously, but we were both so lost in need. He could’ve been late by a second, and some of it made it in.

Twenty percent. The number slowly sinks into my head. One in five. I jump to my feet and look around the office. If everyone on the floor practices it, at least nine women would be informing Kaitlyn of their upcoming maternity leave.

My heart pounding, I grab my purse and head out. I clench and unclench my shaking hands. No way. I can’t be this unlucky, can I?

The CVS two blocks away looms like a court of judgment.Don’t be so melodramatic.It’s probably nothing.

I pay for a pregnancy test at a self-checkout line, then slip into the bathroom to pee on it, then pace as I wait for the result. The square of truth stays unchanged.

Maybe my body’s just messed up because of traveling through so many time zones. I’ve never done that before—didn’t have the money, then, once I had the money, I didn’t have the time.

Two pink lines emerge. What does that mean?

The box says:Two lines mean you’re pregnant.

I go back in my stall, lower the toilet seat and slowly sit down on it.What?

The insert claims the test is ninety-seven to ninety-nine percent accurate, although false positives are possible if it’s too early.Lying insert writers. An OTC test can’t be this good. I Google. It repeats what’s on the insert, then adds,Generally accurate if administered after missing your period.

That’s me. I put my head in one hand and sit for a very long moment. Then I get up, brace myself against the sink and stare at my reflection. “Now what?”

The eyes that look back are full of confusion and shock. This isn’t how my life was supposed to go. The proper order is:firstfind the love of my life,thenget married,thenget pregnant.

The mature part of me says I should tell Rhys…but then what? This isn’t something we bargained on. Maybe we shouldn’t have had sex at all, but plenty of people have it and don’t end up pregnant.

My body starts shaking. I tighten my grip on the sink. The problem isn’t that I want to hide it from Rhys. It’s that I can’t stand the idea of his doing the right thing out ofobligation. Staying with me because of the baby won’t be fair to either of us—or the baby. Dad married Mom because she got pregnant, and he resented her for having a girl. Not that I think Rhys would resent me if I gave him a girl—

Mom didn’t believe Dad would be that kind of asshole when she married him,either.

But do I want to be a single mom? Is that something I’m ready for? The baby couldn’t have come at a worse time. I’m too young, and haven’t even saved enough money. Not to mention the father will return to being just my boss in a year.