A Missed Opportunity

63

❃𝙺𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚊❃

Sometimes I jump the gun. I don't know why, and I don't know what ultimately triggers the reaction since I don't always immediately do that.

It's not like it's a secret or anything. I try to avoid doing it since it's almost always the wrong option and leads to a mess and a bunch of embarrassment, but sometimes I just can't help it. I'd like to blame it on my instincts, but most of the time it's my emotions that get the best of me. I think that's why it only happens occasionally.

It's a really hard habit to crack, but I'm working on it and I think I'm really making some headway here. Like, for example, instead of jumping the gun and panicking when Noah and Cameron were a full forty-five minutes late from the time Noah told me they'd be back from their weekend errands that Cameron hates, I took a breath and kept my cool. Even after my two calls to Noah went to voicemail.

Turns out they spent too much time at one of the stores they visited which ultimately caused this whole domino effect thing with the rest. They were home five more minutes after that initial forty-five. As for why my calls weren't answered, Noah was driving, and his phone was on silent. Perfectly reasonable. Way more reasonable than some unlikely accident they were in, especially with how observant Noah is when he drives with us in the car.

It really helps to tell myself there's a perfectly reasonable explanation to things. Also, when I remind myself of all of the other embarrassing times where I jumped the gun and made a fool of myself. Like remember when I decided to freak Noah out by telling him my period was late?

Yeah. Embarrassing as hell. I'll never sleep the same again—but! At least I learned from it, right? We learn from our mistakes.

I'm careful to be completely sure this time. I wait weeks. Even though the lateness isn't really normal for me, I wait. At first, the waiting is just me waiting for confirmation to come. But at some point, I realize it's not coming on its own and I need to bite the bullet and go to the store. It's a lot harder than it sounds though. So, I end up waiting a few more weeks after I decide it's time to go to the store.

It's not until Aaliyah squints at me and curiously asks if I'm okay. I promptly let her know that I've gained nearly five pounds since I last saw her, my boobs have been aching forever now, and that I'm pretty sure my son has a girlfriend but won't tell me he has a girlfriend because it's not cool to tell your mom you have a girlfriend.

She stares for a while before she quietly admits she too gained five pounds since we last saw each other. Then awkwardly adds that it's because her mother-in-law recently sent her a recipe for this milk cake that her husband likes but that she's been eating more than him since she's home more than he is.

I end up awkwardly asking for a slice of the cake which she immediately gives me. The air feels a little thick for a bit while we both silently eat our cakes on the couch. That is until she finally asks the question I dread entirely.

"So...you're pregnant?"

I don't know how this could've possibly happened. We've been so careful. What, with the no condoms and the lack of proper and consistent birth control—Really, I don't know how it happened.

I slowly grimace at her. "Is this too much for you?" I ask to avoid answering because I still don't know for sure.

Of course, we both know it. Especially since I offhandedly admitted a while ago that I was a bit late. I don't remember what the conversation was about or why I'd say that, but I do remember I said it.

Aaliyah perks up quick and assures me she doesn't mind. She just wants to be my friend and have normal friend conversations which immediately makes me feel better about wanting the same.

So, by the end of that conversation, it's decided that she'll sit outside the bathroom door while I go in with a couple of leftover tests she has still in the bottom of the drawer in the bathroom. I'm feeling pretty confident about it when we start playing our plan out.

Alex watches us suspiciously when he finds us in their bathroom with Aaliyah digging through every drawer for what she swears she knows is there. "What're you doing?" He questions with narrowed eyes, standing in the doorway with a basket of laundry in his hands.

"Nothing!" We shout at him.

He stares at us for a few seconds longer before he shakes his head and disappears from the doorway, leaving us to do our thing. Aaliyah giggles triumphantly when she finally finds those couple of boxes she was looking for and hands them to me, wishing me luck as she skips out of the bathroom and shuts the door behind her.

I wish I was as excited about this process as she is. The anxiety that's been building up in the pit of my stomach for weeks now flies up to my heart, forcing the blood in my body to flow through my heart faster and faster until I can hear it beating loudly in my ears.

Things have changed since the last time I was mortified and ran to him as soon as I realized my period was a bit late. For one, we're now living together. Also, we're now officially labeled unlike before.

But in some ways, things are the same. It'll still be a lot to explain to Cameron, a lot to talk about between us, and a lot more adjusting. Even the healthiest of relationships can be thrown off by something like this. Although we're both happy in ours, it's still so new. And he's never done this before. It'll be overwhelming for us both.

After I've washed my hands and have opened the door to Aaliyah, I realize there's more waiting to do. She stays in the bathroom with me this time, hoisting herself up onto the bathroom counter to sit by the sink to watch the sticks process. We both linger silently. I think I can feel us sharing my anxiety, which I couldn't be more grateful for. It's nice to share it. Reassuring.

In the silence, all there is to do is think. I lean against the bathroom wall opposite to the counter and Aaliyah, thinking mostly about the cons of this.

And then I remember that feeling Noah and I sat in when we realized it was a false alarm. That darker atmosphere and strange disappointment. My shoulders sink when I catch a hint of that same feeling, and I realize that I don't want to have that feeling again. Or at least not share it with him again. It hurts more when I know he's feeling it too.

"Oh! This one looks ready."

I reluctantly step over to look at the ready one with her. We both cautiously peek at it like it's an unstable bomb ready to explode.

Which, honestly, it kind of is an unstable bomb just waiting to explode.