Much later that night, when I went home, Laura was sitting on the couch biting her nails — something she did whenever she was stressed.
“What now?” she asked.
“Tell me what to do. Tell me how to make it right.”
She moved the book that was next to her and patted the couch.
“I think only time will decide that,” I said. “But I need you to tell me the truth — is the baby mine?”
Laura closed her eyes and took a deep breath, barely able to contain her anxiety.
I could feel it, bubbling off her skin and surrounding the room.
“I’m not sure,” she whispered.
In the next few weeks, Laura decided to go for therapy — she said that she needed to understand why she acted out.
“I didn’t think that I would be the person to do this,” she said while making us cups of tea.
“But you did,” I said.
Laura nodded.
“I’m going to stick around until the baby is born,” I said. “And once we do a DNA test, we can decide on our marriage.”
I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, but I do know that I’m not prepared for the reality of that test.
What would you do?
