The Sweetest Revenge - Page 21

I blow out a long breath and manage to steady my voice. “I—I’m late.”

“Is that what you’re freaking out about?” Libby laughs. “Girl, you don’t even have a shift today. The Red Bean’s been working you so hard that you’re getting your days mixed up—” Then, she goes silent abruptly, but I can still hear her breathing on the other end of the phone so I know she’s there. My buddy knows that I’ve been dating Jack Straithmore, so realization is hitting just about now. “Oh shit, Dakota. You’re late late. Not for work, but for your period. Are you sure?”

I nod and it takes a second for me to remember she can’t see me, so I say, “Yes.”

“How late?” she asks soothingly. “Because it’s perfectly normal to be a couple days late from time to time. You know, just last month I was almost a week late. I think it’s all the hormones they put in food these days. It really messes with our bodies.”

“Libby,” I say, cutting her off. I know she’s just trying to say whatever she can think of to make me feel better because that’s what we do. We lift each other up when we’re having a bad day, and it’s why Libby’s my best friend, but this is one time where nothing she says can alter my reality.

“Is it more than a few days?” she asks gently.

“Yes.” I cover my face because I’m embarrassed by how dense I’ve been. “I haven’t had a period in two months,” I confess in an agonized whisper.

My bestie’s silent for a couple minutes, and I know what she’s thinking. I’ve been with Jack Straithmore for a few months now, and we make love almost every time we’re together. How could I have gone two months without a period before it occurred to me to be concerned? When I’m dating a virile alpha male too? I’m so stupid!

“I’m leaving work now,” Libby finally says. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“Libby, no. You don’t have to do that.”

“No, honey, this is what best friends are for. I’ll see you soon.”

The line clicks, and suddenly, I’m alone. My heart’s racing and my forehead’s clammy but at least my bestie will be here soon, and we can figure out what happens now. It won’t be so bad, will it? After all, this baby was made with love, and with a searing certainty, suddenly I know that I want to keep the child.

9

Dakota

* * *

I’m putting my hair up in a bun on top of my head when I hear the front door open. For a minute I’m afraid it’s my mom, but then Libby’s voice sounds.

“Dakota? Where you at, girlfriend?”

When I hear her voice, a piece of calm washes over me. The last thing I need is Denise making this day worse, and I walk onto the second floor landing just as Libby closes the door behind her. My best friend is like me: she’s a curvy girl with curly brown hair, and she too works at the Red Bean. My job is so much better because occasionally, we’ll have shifts together and we’ll giggle and gossip during break times.

“Hey,” I sniffle. “You didn’t have to come, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Of course I had to come,” she says indignantly. “I wanted to! Don’t worry, Harmon’s fine on his own at the café.” But then my best friend lifts her hand up, and I see she’s carrying a plastic bag from the drugstore with rectangular-shaped objects inside. “I got one of every kind, sweetie, and I’ll stay as long as you need. Just let me know when you’re ready for this.”

I don’t need her to tell me what’s inside the bag to know she bought me pregnancy tests. Tears start rolling down my cheeks before I realize I’m crying, and in a rush, Libby runs up the stairs and wrapped her arms around me. She holds me while I dissolve into a mess on her shoulder.

“Sorry,” I sniffle, taking a step back and rubbing my hands over my eyes, trying to wipe away the evidence of my sorrow. “I knew I would need to take a test, but I don’t think the reality hit me until I saw that bag in your hand.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, and there’s no rush. You do this when you’re ready and I’ll be right here.”

I let out a breath and smile shakily. “Well, I guess I should just get it over with then. It isn’t going to change the outcome if I wait.”

Randomly, I reach into the bag and grab a box. It’s pink and white with a picture of a woman holding a baby on it. Ugh.

“Do you want me to come in there with you?” Libby asks kindly, nodding to the bathroom.

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