Zoey's POV I stood in front of the bathroom door like it was a portal to another life. In my hand, a pregnancy test still in the box, looking offensively innocent—like it had no idea the kind of emotional chaos it was capable of causing. Matthew had come back fifteen minutes earlier, out of breath and triumphant, like he'd slayed a dragon. In reality, he'd just argued down a pharmacist who tried to sell him prenatal vitamins "just in case." "Alright," he said, crossing his arms. "Are you going to take it now, or are we going to keep staring at it like it's a piece of art?" I swallowed hard. Once I took that test, I wouldn't be able to pretend anymore. It wouldn't be just a dramatic spiral, a bad day, a mix of stress and a weird husband and an overly sensitive heart. I looked at the bathroom door again. Then at the test. Then at Matthew. "I…" I started—and stopped, annoyed at my own hesitation. Matthew raised an eyebrow. "Zoey, for the love of God. You've done th
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