Chapter 110 Negative I hate the feeling of being stuck in this bubble of confusion and worry. I know it's too early. I know I'm probably overthinking the dull ache in my abdomen and the pain in my back and the fact that my period hasn't arrived yet and it's approximately forty five days to my thirtieth birthday. Jesus Christ, I'm getting old. Saying it makes it even scarier. I'm not naive. And neither am I a kid. I know what the symptoms of pregnancy are. I've secretly done my research. And it's possible that I'm expecting. Am I prepared? No. Am I scared? Yes. Do I want it? Fuck yes. But I also bear in mind that it might be negative and I might actually be coming down with something more life threatening than an unplanned pregnancy. Goodness gracious! My nerves are going to kill me. The clinic was everything Roman’s world wasn’t. Sterile, and quiet. Just muted walls, the faint hum of fluorescent lights, the smell of antiseptic and lemon.I signed in at the reception desk with shaking fingers and sat down, crossing and uncrossing my legs as if that could bleed off the nervous energy spiraling through me. There were other women waiting too. One visibly pregnant, cradling her belly with the kind of absentminded tenderness that made my throat tighten. Another scrolled through her phone, calm, detached, as if this visit was routine. For me, it actually felt like judgment day. “Savannah?” My head snapped up. A nurse smiled at me, clipboard in hand. My legs moved on autopilot. The blood pressure cuff squeezed around my arm, the thermometer beeped, questions were asked and answered. Then I was led to a small, softly lit exam room. The paper sheet crinkled beneath me as I sat, my hands twisted together in my lap. “Your doctor will be in shortly.” And then I was alone. Alone with my thoughts, which were worse than silence. I pictured Roman’s face if I told him. If the test was positive. His eyes going cold, his jaw tightening, the word now coming down like a hammer. But then, in the secret place of my heart, another image bloomed. Him holding a baby. Our baby. His dark eyes softened, his hand steady, protective. I blinked hard, chasing it away. That was fantasy. This was reality. The door opened with a soft click. My doctor stepped inside, kind eyes behind her glasses, her voice warm. “Savannah, good to see you again. What brings you in today?” “Hi, Doctor Morgan.” I hesitated. My tongue felt thick. “I think I might be pregnant.” The words sounded foreign, reckless, irresponsible in the air. I was almost embarrassed to say them. She nodded gently, not the least bit surprised. “Alright. Let’s run a test and see where we are.” The cup in my hand felt absurdly small as I carried it to the bathroom. My hands shook as I set it down. Minutes felt like hours as I returned to the exam room and sat back on the crinkling paper, my heart pounding in my ears. When the doctor came back, her expression was professional and composed. She sat down on the little stool, her voice still soft. “The test is negative, Savannah.” The words sliced through me. I stared at her, the syllables rearranging themselves in my mind, trying to land. Negative. Not pregnant. For a moment, relief flooded me. Roman wouldn’t find out. I wouldn’t have to face his rejection, his anger, his inevitable no. But underneath that relief was something worse. A hollowness, sharp and aching, that left me breathless. I wanted it. God, I wanted it more than I could admit. My doctor’s eyes softened as she studied me. “Savannah, I’d like to discuss something else, if you’re open to it.” I nodded numbly, barely aware of my own body. What else could be worse than this? She folded her hands. Her tone was gentle but firm, the kind of voice that made you sit up straighter without realizing it. “You’ve been on contraceptives for a long time, yes?” “Yes.” My voice cracked. “Years.”“I’m concerned about the effects it’s had on your reproductive health. We’ve seen changes in your scans, your hormones, and with your history, it could make conceiving more difficult if you continue. I need to be honest with you, Savannah. If having children is something you want, I strongly advise you to stop the pills and let your body heal first.” Her words landed like stones in my stomach. Difficult to conceive. Strongly advise. Stop the pills. I swallowed, my throat tight. “So… if I don’t stop…” Her eyes didn’t waver. “You may have a very hard time getting pregnant in the future. It could almost become impossible.” I couldn’t breathe. She touched my hand lightly, grounding me. “I know this isn’t easy to hear. You’re still very young, and your body has remarkable resilience. But you need to give it a chance. Think about what you want for your future.” Her voice faded into the background as my thoughts screamed louder. Think about what you want. I wanted Roman. I wanted him more than anything. But Roman didn’t want children. He said it last time with the same certainty he said everything else, like it was law. If I told him, would he leave? Would he see me as defective, broken, less than? Or worse—would he stay but resent me forever? The doctor gave me a prescription for vitamins, a pamphlet on fertility recovery, and a list of recommendations. I took them with numb fingers, shoving them into my bag as if hiding them could make them disappear. When I stepped back out into the waiting room, the world looked different. The pregnant woman was gone. The chairs seemed too bright, the laughter of a receptionist too sharp. Outside, the sunlight hit my face like an accusation. I fumbled for my phone, thumb hovering over Roman’s name. I could call him. I could tell him everything right now. But the memory of his voice stopped me. “Cute picture. Just not for me. I like my life as it is, Sav.” I closed the app, shoved the phone back into my purse. Not yet. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, a gesture so small no one on the street would notice. But I felt it. I felt the absence, the warning, the secret blooming inside me. And I knew it was only a matter of time before the truth clawed its way out.