EMMALINE
I sit on the edge of the bathtub for a long time after the world stops spinning.
The test is still in my hand. I haven’t put it down. I don’t know why — as though staring at it long enough might make the second line fade. As though certainty is something that can be negotiated with.
Two lines.
Careless.
The word lands first. Hard and sharp and entirely deserved.
Careless, Emmaline.
I press the heel of my palm to my forehead and let out a sound that isn’t quite a laugh and isn’t quite a sob — something broken living in the space between the two. Of all the reckless, stupid things I could have done, this sits at the very top of the list. I knew the risk. I knew exactly how volatile and tangled everything between us already was. And still I let myself fall into him like conseq
