Chapter 2: "My Life is Over"
Lying quite still in the center of my queen sized bed with the fan blowing directly above me; I certainly did not feel like a queen. The little white piece of plastic was still clenched tightly in my hand. Two pink lines clearly denoted, and they wouldn't change no matter how hard I slammed the test on the side of the countertop. I watched the fan blowing, rustling the leaves of the plants that lay forgotten on the floor, ceramic pots shattered and dark soil sprinkled across the floor, a pale stain on the wall where the plant had been thrown.
I took another deep, quivering breath, swallowing hard against the acid-burning sensation all the way down my throat and the foul taste left in my mouth. My stomach ached from retching. It had been almost eight weeks since Emmett had left. And though it hurt me beyond my mental capacity to think about it and certainly to even think about him… I had to be honest with myself.
It didn't matter how many tests I took, not how many times I thrust it into the counter, threw it across the room, smashed it in the doorframe. No matter how many flowerpots I broke… I had to stop lying to myself. I was twenty-two years old. I was young, I suppose reasonably attractive, I had a college degree and worked part time as a waitress. I had barely been able to set my life together yet. But as far as the American public was concerned, I was a loser. A failure. And I was going to have a baby out of wedlock. My life was over. Or, what was left of it anyway…