I rested my head wearily in my hands. I knew now, why I had been so achey lately, why I had been so hungry, so tired. It was only going to get worse from here, I thought, as I resisted the urge to throw that incriminating box from the bathroom counter and into the trash.
I was pregnant.
It was frightening. Will and I had discussed, of course - this was not exactly an accident. But somehow, it had never really hit me, that this was really a thing that might happen at some point. That I might have a baby.
I felt rather silly. Somehow the hypothetical had only ever seemed hypothetical, somehow I had never really believed it would ever be.
And yet, there it was, the apparent truth, in the trash can next to me. That little blue line that meant something I had never really /thought/ about.
I wanted to seize up, and to shut down, and I wanted to laugh at myself for having the urge. The logical part of my brain took over, because for the time being, there was simply no response but the logical one.
Well, that, or start crying, and I was quite well and determined not to do /that/.
Like the urge to angrily throw the remaining two tests in the box away, I suppressed the urge to go looking for Cyrus, the urge to throw myself in his lap and cry, for something I oughtn't be crying about at all.