Chapter 5 Five Weeks Later The hospital cafeteria is full today. Every table is packed with doctors, staff, and family members waiting for news about loved ones. I watch them with the same quiet detachment I always feel. Sometimes I wonder how hard it must be to be a family member or friend, unsure what the next five minutes could bring. Mia and I claim our usual table by the windows. Sometimes it's the only glimpse of the outside world we get all day. I sit across from Mia, picking at my turkey wrap, when my stomach suddenly lurches. It's violent, a wave of nausea crashing into me so hard that I almost gag right there at the table. I slap a hand over my mouth, eyes going wide. Mia barely has time to react before I bolt, weaving between unsuspecting coworkers on my race to the restroom. Her chair scrapes across the floor as she follows. "Nicole? What the hell?" I don't stop-I can't. I won't make it unless I move fast. The staff restroom is mercifully empty when I crash inside, shoving the stall door open and dropping to my knees just in time. I don't even get a second to brace myself before my stomach twists, tightens, revolts. I gag once, then vomit. The acidic burn of it makes my eyes water, my body trembling as I grip the toilet bowl. I hate this. I hate throwing up. A second later, Mia is at my side. She crouches and gathers my hair into a firm ponytail with one of the ties she always keeps on her wrist. "Shit, Nic." Her voice is concerned but steady. "Okay, okay. Deep breaths." I groan, resting my forehead against the cool porcelain. "Tell me you didn't get food poisoning," she says, rubbing slow circles over my back. I shake my head weakly. "It's not food poisoning," I manage. "You sure? Because if you did, I'm marching back to the cafeteria and kicking someone's ass." Despite myself, I laugh, or at least try to. It comes out as more of a pained whimper. Mia's expression softens. "Okay, talk to me. What the hell is going on?" I exhale shakily. "It's just bad nausea. It's been happening for a couple of days." "A couple of days?" She pulls back to look at me. "Nicole, you're a nurse-you know full well that's not normal." I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, forcing myself to sit back on my heels. The nausea is fading, but I still feel off. "It's probably a stomach bug," I mutter. Mia gives me a look. "But you don't feel sick otherwise?" I shake my head. "If I did, I wouldn't be at work risking the health of our patients," I mutter, almost annoyed. She knows me better than that. She hums, gears clearly turning, then goes utterly still. I frown. "What's wrong?" She meets my gaze, dead serious. "You aren't pregnant, are you?" The word rattles around my head like a curse. My body locks up, short-circuiting. Pregnant? No. There's no way. Right? I swallow hard, my mind racing. "No," I answer immediately, more out of shock than anything. "There's no way." I do the math, counting back the weeks in my head. Then I realize that I don't remember when my last period was. My cycle's always been a little inconsistent, so being late rarely fazes me. Of course, I don't usually have hot, wild sex with a stranger. Mia must see the panic in my face because she gently grips my arm, keeping me anchored. "Hey. Deep breaths." I take one. Then another. But my heart is racing. Pregnant? No. There's no way. I feel dizzy. Mia steadies me, helping me stand. She leads me to the sink, her firm touch the only thing keeping me upright. I grip the edge of the counter, staring at my reflection under the unflattering fluorescents. I look shaken. My skin is pale, my lips parted slightly, my eyes wide with something between fear and disbelief. Mia grabs a paper towel, wets it, and presses it to my forehead. "Are you okay?" she asks softly. I shake my head. She nods, like she expected that answer. "Okay. Listen to me." She tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "We don't know anything yet, so there's no reason to panic." I nod weakly. "So let's just get you a test." I freeze, the mere suggestion making this all feel far too real. "What?" Mia nods, all business, and grabs her purse. "I'm getting you a pregnancy test." My chest tightens. "Mia, I⁠-" She holds up a hand, cutting me off. "Nic, we need answers." I press my fingers to my temple. This is too much. It's impossible. It has to be impossible. I mean, I don't even know Sergei's last name. I don't know where he lives, what he does, if I'll ever even see him again. I've been very good these last few weeks about not spiraling, not staring at the phone and wondering if I should just text him again. I feel lightheaded again. Mia steadies me. "Whatever happens, we'll figure it out. Okay?" I exhale slowly and nod weakly. "Okay." She studies me for another second and nods. Then she's gone, slipping out of the bathroom to find a pregnancy test, leaving me alone with the looming reality. Alone with the fact that in just a few minutes, everything could change. A few minutes later she slips back in, a small brown paper bag clutched in one hand, and checks that the restroom is still empty. She hands me the bag and shoos me into a stall, where I have to actually take the damn test. My hands shake as I pull it from the box and hold it underneath me. I pace while I wait for the results. My sneakers squeak against the linoleum floor with every step, my arms wrapped around my middle like I'm physically holding myself together. Mia sits on the sink edge, elbows braced on her knees, chin resting on her palm. She's not pacing. She's not freaking out. She's just watching the pregnancy test with the patience of a Buddhist monk, waiting for the results to become clear. I swallow hard, blood rushing in my ears, drowning out everything else. I should be thinking about what I'm going to do. I should be preparing myself for either answer. But all I can think about is Sergei. The way he touched me. The way he left. The way I haven't been able to stop thinking about him since. Mia's phone vibrates against the sink. The timer is up. I freeze mid-step. My breath catches in my throat. For a second, neither of us move. Then Mia straightens, inhaling slowly. "You want me to look first?" I nod so fast it makes me dizzy. "Please." Mia reaches for the test. I squeeze my eyes shut. This is it. This is the moment my life changes forever. I hear Mia's breath hitch. She flips the stick around. And I force my eyes open. Two lines. The air punches out of my lungs in a sharp, shattering exhale. "Fuck." The word hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating. Mia doesn't say anything. I stare at the test, my vision tunneling, my entire body going numb. Fuck. How could I be so stupid? Mia clears her throat. "So..." she starts. I blink, dragging my gaze away from the test to look at her. She's watching me carefully. Measuring my reaction. Waiting for me to process what just happened. But I can't. Because I have no idea what to do next. Mia softens. "Nicole..." I take a sharp breath. "I-" And then I laugh. It's not a happy laugh. It's a holy-shit-my-life-is-imploding laugh. Mia tilts her head, concerned. "You okay?" "No." I shake my head. "Not even a little bit." She nods slowly. "Yeah. That tracks." I press my palms against my face. This isn't real. It can't be real. But the test is still sitting on the sink. The two pink lines haven't disappeared and reality is closing in fast. Mia stands and guides me to sit on the toilet lid. She crouches in front of me, placing her hands on my knees. "Hey. Look at me." I do. My eyes burn. I don't know if I'm about to cry or pass out. Maybe both. Mia squeezes my knees gently. "Breathe." I inhale, but it's shaky. She nods. "Good. Again." I do. It doesn't help. "Mia," I cry, swallowing hard. "What do I do?" She doesn't answer right away, which is for the best. I know she doesn't really have the answer to this problem. Even if she did, nothing she could say would feel right. "Well first, you process. You take a second to freak out. You let yourself feel whatever you need to feel." I press my fingers to my temple. "I don't even know what I'm feeling." "That's fine." She shrugs, her voice irritatingly calm. "Let it be messy." Messy? This whole situation is a fucking mess. I texted one wrong number and now I'm pregnant with that stranger's baby. This isn't who I am. "Seriously, take the rest of the day off. You've got to make some big decisions, and you can't make them under duress," she says sympathetically. "I can't take the day off, Mia-I have patients," I protest, hearing the petulance in my own voice. "Besides, I need to work. It will keep me from having a complete meltdown." "Fine. Get back to work and try to compartmentalize for now," she says, unfazed by my foul mood. I press a hand to my chest, feeling the weight of it all sink in. This is really happening to me. This isn't a problem I can outthink or outwork. Somehow, some way I have to make a decision that will impact the rest of my life. Mia watches me closely. "Hey. No matter what happens, I'm here, okay? Whatever you decide, we'll figure it out together." I exhale slowly, allowing myself to believe her. "Our lunch is almost over," she says, glancing at her phone. "Since you refuse to play hooky, we'd better get to it." I nod because she's right. I can't stay in this bathroom hiding from all of my responsibilities. I need to face them all head-on. She loops her arm through mine and we walk out of the bathroom together. In a romance-themed observation show, several participants undergo a series of interactions and conflicts filled with love, misunderstandings, and power struggles. In the end, one couple rises to over...