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7:21 PM. JULY 29th, 2018
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TWO lines. Oh God. Two lines. I practically crushed the box that contained the pregnancy test hoping that the instructions for this brand were opposite. This time, one line meant positive, two meant negative. Come on Clearblue, don't let me down. "Shit," I muttered under my breath. "Fuck!"
Not thinking, I punched the mirror, pain shooting down my arm as shards of glass pierced my skin. "Damn it!"
My fist stung all over, crimson blood seeping into the cracks of the shattered glass. My broken reflection stared back at me, mocking and taunting in a way I didn't much want to see. Grabbing a worn towel, I wrapped it around my knuckles as best as possible to make sure that the blood wouldn't drip on to the floor. Breathing deeply, I waited a few minutes, the shock fading slowly from my brain. I didn't know why I was so surprised about this. I... we both knew. But we were too damn scared to say anything.
Carefully unwrapping the towel, I stared at the cuts that were scattered across my fingers. More scars to add to the already long list. I wasn't even worried about the very broken mirror in front of me. That was the least concerning thing to me at the moment. This whole apartment building could've been burning to hell, and I couldn't care less. Jesus Christ, I'm... I'm gonna have a baby. That was a sentence I never thought I'd say in my life.
"Jess? Babe, I'm home! I got chicken wings!"
Oh shit. He's gonna freak out. No, no. It's Luke. He's gonna say some shit like-
"Sweet Christmas!" I guess I'd been caught. He stared at the blood-stained glass, then at my hand, then back at me. The suspense killed me more than my injured hand. Come on, Luke, I thought. God damnit, just say something!
"Hell yeah, baby!" He leaned to hug me. "We're gonna have a baby."
Within his firm, yet comforting grasp, I choked out a single word. "Yeah."
My face twisted into an emotion I couldn't explain as a tear rolled down my face, its saltiness dancing across my lips. For once in my life, in that very moment, even with my bloodied fist, everything was going to be alright, and I think he knew that too, which was why he wasn't yelling at me for breaking yet another thing in our crappy apartment. Our lives were changing for the better, and it was about damn time.
