Chapter one

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With a deep breath, I stepped out of the shower and wiped the mirror off with a towel. Slowly I studied my pale complexion, framed by my long dark hair, looking for even the slightest change. Something that would prove that what I suspected. After a few minutes of inspecting, I stared into my sad brown eyes. Surely something so life changing should be obvious, right? Was it my imagination, or did my freckles seem to stand out more? Maybe I'm just losing my mind. That's probably it, I was looking for anything that would signify a change even if it made absolutely no sense.

Even though my hair was dripping wet, the curls were still obvious. I ran a brush through my hair, wishing that my tangles could look this good when they dried. Unfortunately no amount of product could help with that. My hair was long enough to reach my waist when it was wet, but the curls made it look only about mid back when it dried. I always envied my friends with straight hair, even though my curls brought lots of attention.

My parents were both biracial, each had one parent that was black, and one that was white. I got the pale skin (freckles included) with curly dark hair while my twin, Amorette, got the darker complexion with lighter, straighter hair. We've always been opposites from our looks, to our styles, to our lifestyles. I've always found it ironic that our parents chose our names to match (Vivienne means life, while Amorette means love), yet nothing about us matched or were even similar. There's a lot that I find ironic about our names.

The little pink cardboard box on the bathroom counter seems to be screaming for my attention. I realize I've been standing in front of the mirror, holding the brush for far too long and I'm starting to get cold. I stare at the box with a sense of dread until I start shivering. My stomach in knots, I walk to the adjoining bedroom and get dressed. I put on a white button up blouse, tuck it into a gray pencil skirt, and match it with darker gray heels.I know I look like a librarian, my fiance Travis reminds me all the time. All that's missing is the glasses that I don't need. I like my look though, and it works for my job as a paralegal. Simple and elegant has always been my style.

I twist my still wet hair into a long braid, put on some light make up, and stare at that damned pink box again. I reach out to pick it up like it's going to bite me if I move too fast. Who knows, maybe it will. I can be the first person in history that dies from a pregnancy test box infection. I wish. Or maybe not, depending on what the little digital screen says after I pee on it. I throw the box in my purse promising myself I'll take it sometime today. Yes I know that morning pee is best, but I'm procrastinating.

I bought it three days ago and I keep coming up with excuses not to take it. When I bought it I read the instructions and it said it is best to take it in the morning. So obviously I was going to wait until the next day, I wanted an accurate result. These things are expensive and I didn't want to pay another $15 for a stick I'm literally going to pee on. The next morning I had forgotten until it was too late. So waiting another day wouldn't hurt anything. Maybe make it more accurate. Well this morning I actually remembered, but today is the day that Travis gets back from his business trip. We've talked about having kids before he proposed earlier this year, but we both decided that kids weren't for us. Neither of us ever want to be parents. So it wouldn't be like it was some big happy surprise for him. If I am pregnant, I'll need his support so it only makes sense to wait for him. Right? I keep telling myself it isn't just another stalling tactic. I have legitimate reasons to wait. Or so I keep telling myself.

I get in my car and manage to stay focused enough to make it to the office. Ruth, our secretary and my best friend greets me with a huge smile when I walk through the door. She's the only one that I've told about the possible baby and I had told her last night that I was taking the test this morning. I set my purse and lunch bag down on my desk that's across from hers and try to make myself look busy so I don't have to answer her questions or see the look of disappointment after I tell her that I didn't take the test.

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