𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 | 𝟏𝟖+

10

I'm rolling a joint for Damien, my fingers moving on autopilot as I try to lose myself in the daily ritual. But as I seal the paper and bring the finished product to my lips, a sudden wave of nausea comes over me.

I've been feeling off for a while now, queasy and tired in a way that I've been chalking up to stress and nerves. But as I sit there, fighting back the urge to vomit, a realization hits me like a freight train. This feeling, this bone-deep exhaustion and constant  nausea...it's exactly how I felt when I was pregnant with Penny.

I try to think back, to remember the last time I had my period. But with everything that's been going on, all the chaos and drama, I realize with a sinking feeling that I can't recall. It's been months, maybe longer.

This can't be happening. Not now. I look over at Damien, sprawled out on the bed and lost in a post-sex slumber.

I can't tell him, not yet. Not until I know for sure. Moving as quietly as I can, I slip out of the room and grab my phone, texting Mr. Clarence to meet me out front.

I need to get to a drugstore, need to see those two little lines for myself before I can even begin to process what this might mean. The ride to the store is a blur, my mind racing with a million worst-case scenarios. What will Damien say? What will he do? We've only been together for six months, and while I know he cares for me, a baby is a whole different level of commitment.

I'm in and out of the store in record time, a paper bag clutched to my chest. I can feel Mr. Clarence's eyes on me in the rearview mirror as he drives me back home, but he doesn't ask any questions. Bless him.

When we pull up to the house, my heart sinks as I see Damien waiting for me in the foyer, his arms crossed.

Of course he knows I snuck out. He always seems to know my every move, like he has some kind of sixth sense when it comes to me.

"Where have you been, Catherine?" he asks, his voice calm. "And what's in the bag?" I open my mouth to lie, to spin some story about feminine products or a snack craving. But before I can get the words out, Damien is grabbing the bag from my hands and looking inside.

I see the exact moment he realizes what he's looking at, his eyes widening and his jaw tensing. He pulls out one of the pregnancy tests, holding it up like he's never seen one before.

"Catherine...do you really think you're...?"

He can't even say the word, his voice trailing off into stunned silence. Anger and embarrassment wash over me at his reaction. I know this is a lot to take in, but does he have to look so horrified at the idea?

"Yeah, I think I might be," I snap, snatching the test back from him. "I'm guessing that's not exactly welcome news."

Damien blinks at me, his expression something I can't quite read. "Cat, I didn't say that. I'm just...surprised, is all."

I don't want to hear it, I don't want to see that look in his eyes. So I shove past him, storming up the stairs and locking myself in the bathroom.

With shaking hands, I tear open the test and follow the instructions, my heart pounding so hard I'm surprised it doesn't crack a rib. The next three minutes feel like forever, each second ticking by so slowly.

Finally, the timer on my phone goes off. I take a deep breath and pick up the test, preparing myself for whatever those little plastic windows might reveal.

Two lines. Clear as day.

I'm pregnant. Damien Caine's baby is growing inside me.

I sink to the cold tile floor, the test falling from my numb fingers as I wrap my arms around my knees and let the tears come.