Indefinite (Salvation #6)(34)

“You’re pregnant,” Clara says with her hand over the file.

“I’m sorry, but we didn’t even get to that part yet,” I say, looking from her to Gretchen and then back to Clara.

“Yes, but the tests that we ran shows us that you’re pregnant.”

“I can’t be pregnant, Clara, I didn’t even have the IUI yet. That doesn’t make any sense!”

Gretchen covers her mouth. “Oh, but you did have the sex, my friend.”

Oh my God. I had sex. I had sex with Quinn almost three weeks ago. I don’t even remember if we used a condom. No, we did. Right? We had to. I mean, we haven’t used them in years because I was on the pill and . . . and I never told him I came off it.

I came off the fucking pill a few months ago when I wasn’t having sex and started to form this plan.

I came off the pill, and then I had sex with Quinn and didn’t even think . . .

“This can’t be,” I say quickly. “This is a false positive or something crazy with the system. The lab fucked it up!”

Clara squares her shoulders. “We both know the likelihood of that is low. I know you’re emotional and that this is a shock, but you are pregnant. When your urine showed a very, very faint sign, we did the blood test and you are one hundred percent pregnant.”

“Run it again!” I yell as I get to my feet.

This can’t be happening. I know I wanted a baby with the doppelg?nger of Quinn, but I didn’t want this. I mean, it’s a baby, which was the end goal, but not with him. Not when we’re both so emotionally fucked we could write a book about it.

One stupid time, and here I am, knocked up with his baby.

“Ashy . . .” Gretchen’s voice is calming. “I know you’re a bit . . . umm . . . taken aback, honey, but Clara has the test results.” She turns to Clara. “Can you show them to her?”

Yes, I work in facts and results. I need to see them so I can see where the lab screwed up, and when I do, I will go and personally fire the idiot who did it. Then we will be back on track, and I can have number twenty’s baby and be just fine.

She hands over the lab work, and I sink into the chair. It shows blood HCG levels indicating a pregnancy.

I’m pregnant.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” I mutter.

“I know, but it’s okay. You’re pregnant, Ash. That’s what you wanted, and I know it’s not the way you thought it would go, but at least it’s with someone you love.”

No, that’s what makes it worse. Now, I’ll always have a piece of Quinn, so even when he’s gone, which he is now, I’ll never be rid of him.

My heart sinks as despair washes over me. Tears start to fall as I look at my best friend. “Someone who will never love me back.”

“No, that’s not true, and you know it. He’s misguided, for sure, but he loves you.”

“Yeah, he has a funny way of showing it.”

Gretchen giggles. “Yeah, he got you a baby . . . that you didn’t even want with him. Best gift ever.”

I laugh without any humor. “We’ll see just how much of a gift he thinks it is.”

I hope he realizes there are no returns available on this one.





“What do you want to do tonight?” Gretchen asks as we’re snuggled on the couch.

Yesterday, I didn’t want to do a damn thing. I kept thinking about the little baby in my belly and how the hell I was going to tell Quinn about it.

It doesn’t feel like wrapping a “World’s Best Dad” hat is the best idea. I could just blurt it out and see how that goes or I could not tell him and lead him to believe that instead of getting the meds today, I got pregnant.

He would never know.

But I would, and there’s no way I could ever honestly do that.

“Who cares?”

She tosses a pillow at my head. “Knock it off. I haven’t seen you in how long? The least you could do is entertain me a bit.”

I flip her off. “Entertain this.”

“Can we at least call Catherine and tell her? That’ll at least be entertaining.”

“No.”

I’m not telling anyone, least of all her. She’ll tell Jackson, who will tell Mark, who will tell Natalie, who will tell Liam. Then, just like that, Quinn will know. Nope. We’re not even going down the rabbit hole of talking to anyone.

“I don’t want to sit in here and watch you mope. Let’s go see a movie or grab some food? We could always walk around the city and people watch . . .”

I don’t want to do any of that. I want to forget that this is happening and move on with my damn life.

“We should go dancing!” I say.

While we may not be the spring chickens we once were, Gretchen and I are going to attempt to stay awake past ten tonight.

“Dancing? You didn’t want to do anything a minute ago, and now you want to get dressed and go dancing?”

“Yes. That is what I want. I want to hang out with my best friend and not think about babies, exes, or lists. I want to put on too much makeup and not enough clothes and stay out late, before nothing fits me. We can make this part one of your bachelorette party.”

She eyes me suspiciously, but I know she’ll never resist the lure of dancing. Gretchen loves the clubs more than I ever did. Ben doesn’t dance, which she’s totally okay with, but I know she misses it.