Author/Uploaded by Chloe Roberts
Copyright 2023 by Chloe Roberts – All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. The story, all names, characters, and incidents p...
Copyright 2023 by Chloe Roberts – All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or dead), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred. All brand names and/or products used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders, and the author and the publisher are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned or implied in this book. Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher. Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Epilogue Chapter 1 Cleo Seven Years Ago "O h, God!" I groan as I lean my head against the bathroom wall. I've been sitting on the bathroom floor beside the toilet for two hours, heaving my guts. At this point, my hair is matted to my head, and my clothes are sticking to my skin; in other words, I look and feel like shit. I hear a knock on my bedroom door, then a minute later, my mom calls out, "Honey, are you feeling any better?" "Yeah, I think it's just the flu or something I ate. I'm going to lie down for a bit," I shout, hoping she can hear me all the way from my en suite bathroom. And thankfully, she does because she says, "Okay then, you sure you don't need anything?" "Yeah, I'm sure." Then right after I said that, I abruptly lean forward and hurl into the toilet bowl. "Are you sure you are okay in there?" My mother asks me again, and I can hear the concern in her voice. "Yes, I am," I lie. But I'm far from being okay. At this point, I'm freaking out. I started feeling out of sorts a week ago. At first, I thought I'd eaten something bad because my stomach was cramping, and I felt weak. But then I started feeling nauseous and vomiting, and it was out of the ordinary because I rarely vomit, even when I'm sick. I hear a ping on my phone, bringing me out of my thoughts. ‘I bought it. I'm on my way.’ It's a text from Harper, my best friend. I called her this morning to update her on how I’m feeling. After I'd detailed every symptom to her, she asked whether I'd had my period recently. "No, not yet," I remember telling her. "When is it due?" "I don't know, maybe this week," I told her dreadfully because I wasn't sure. "I think it won't hurt to take a pregnancy test and rule it out," she said. "Harps, what if…what if I'm pregnant?" I asked in a low voice, a sick feeling creeping up in my gut. "Let's not think about that; we want to rule it out. I'll be by your house with the pregnancy test in an hour or two." "Okay," I whispered. "See you in a few," Harper said before hanging up. Immediately after the call, I started counting the days to my next period. Is it supposed to be on the twenty-fifth, twenty-eighth, or thirtieth? Shit! Why didn’t I fill in my period chart earlier? I really don't know what to expect once I do the test. It will probably read negative. Or it might read positive. No, nope, not thinking that. It won't happen; it just can't. I know Killian and I have been careful when we started messing around. I just know it. But what if… "Cleo?" I hear Harper calling my name, saving me from my spiraling thoughts. "Here," I say weakly. "Your mom wasn't too keen on letting me come up," she says, then stops when she sees me on the floor. "Oh, Cleo. How are you feeling?" "Like shit." "I'm sorry." She sits next to me, pulling me into a hug. "Things are going to be okay." I hope she's right. But also, I needed this—comfort. And I'm happy that she's here for me. And at this moment, I have no doubt that whatever happens, she'll be there for me through it all. Harper has been my best friend since she sat beside me in class, even when the popular kids told her not to. That was in second grade. And since then, we've been inseparable. "Thank you," My throat constricts with emotion. "Of course," she squeezes my hand in the She hands me a cup to pee in. Once it has some of my urine, she rips the pregnancy strip from its packaging before dipping the stick. "It says here we should wait two minutes before the results come in." "This is the most stressed I've ever been." I run my hand over my hair just so I don't bite my fingernails. "Hey." She nudges me, and when I look at her, she adds, "It's going to be okay, yeah?" "Yeah," I say, yet again grateful that she's here with me. "It says that if one line appears on the strip, the