[Dawn]
“This morning,” I whisper, feeling my heartbeat thrum in my ears.
“I was on my way here to tell you. I just—well, these last few weeks have been so tough. And missing you has made me sick to the core, you know? And well, I thought the nausea was just me being overly dramatic.”
My voice cracks slightly, and I pause, feeling the weight of my emotions press against my chest.
The room seems smaller now, quieter, as if everything is holding its breath for what I’ll say next.
“But after it hung around for the second week, and became a bit more intense, I well—”
I stop again, my words faltering. My throat tightens as my nervousness takes over. I keep f*****g saying ‘well.’
My fingers fidget against the hem of my shirt. “So I rushed down to the corner store and bought some tests.
