ANNY
“Mrs. Adams, when was your last period?”
The answer arrives before I want it.
“Almost six weeks ago.”
The doctor glances at Oliver, who is still holding my hand. “Is there any possibility you could be pregnant?”
Four weeks ago, Oliver carried me through the cottage hallway.
There have been other nights since then.
“Yes,” I say.
His fingers tighten around mine.
The doctor asks Oliver to wait outside while she completes the examination. He looks at me rather than arguing.
“I’ll be right there,” he says.
When the door closes, the doctor gives me a collection cup and points me toward the bathroom. I return a few minutes later and sit on the examination table while she places a test strip on the counter.
I try not to watch.
Two pink lines appear anyway.
The room becomes a cli
