Chapter Seventeen
Tess rolled up her yoga mat slowly, frowning. The class hadn’t helped; she still felt a little crampy. Deep in her heart, she knew she wasn’t pregnant, that her period was coming. Dammit.
“Hey, Tess. You okay?”
She looked up, blinking. It was Carrie, the yoga instructor. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You just don’t seem like yourself today. You’re always smiling . . . today, not so much.” Carrie’s pale blue eyes peered harder. “You sure you’re all right?”
Tess nodded and edged closer. “Just getting my period. So I’m a little off. That’s all.”
“Ahh. Say no more. I hate those days.” Carrie gave her arm a little squeeze. “Feel better. See you next time.”
“You bet.” Tess took her things and left the room. Ten minutes later, she was sitting in her SUV. Snow had started to lightly fall; the flakes floated in the air, drifting like tiny bits of icy magic. She stared at the beauty outside her windshield . . . and a harder cramp hit, making her suck in her breath. Her eyes filled with tears. She sniffed them back willfully and started the engine, wanting to get home before the snow got heavier.
When she got home, she took a quick shower, then got into her favorite fleece pajamas, the red ones with the baby penguins. She pulled back the curtains so she could watch the snow fall outside the wide windows, then turned on the gas fireplace. It was one o’clock, when she usually ate lunch, but she wasn’t hungry. She got into her bed, curled up under the blankets, and let herself have a little pity party.
Very few women got pregnant with the first attempt. She and Logan had only had sex three times last week, then she’d let it go, knowing it was too late in her cycle. The odds had been slim and she knew it. In her head, she knew all of that. But her heart . . . the disappointment welled inside her, merciless. Tears slipped free and rolled down her cheeks. She swiped them away and burrowed deeper beneath the covers.
Her cell phone buzzed with a text. Logan. How goes it, Long Island Lady? I texted this morning and you didn’t answer . . . ?
She sighed. He’d texted a few minutes before she’d gone into her yoga class, so she hadn’t been able to respond then. But she hadn’t responded after it, and she could have. What should she say? Hi, I’m here, in a fetal position, crampy as hell and feeling sorry for myself? No. He was her friend, not her boyfriend. She couldn’t lean on him like that, even though he’d told her she could. Yes, they texted or talked daily, and had spent time together over the last few weeks. But it felt like whining for her to tell him the truth. So she didn’t answer the text. She pushed the phone away, closed her eyes, and decided on a nap instead. Exhaustion overcame her fast and hard, and she gladly let it drag her under.
* * *
Bubbles was licking her face. As Tess opened her eyes, she was foggy and disoriented. The light outside had changed; the sky was a darker gray and the snow was still falling. She reached for her phone to check the time and her eyes widened. She’d been asleep for almost two hours. She had texts and emails waiting, the many icons across the top letting her know people were looking for her. And she could feel it . . . She’d gotten her period. With a sigh, she got out of bed and went to the bathroom. After that, she took Bubbles out for a quick potty break and filled her bowls with fresh water and food. She made herself a quick cup of chai spice tea, grabbed a bag of white cheddar popcorn, and went back to bed.
When she was settled under the covers again, she checked her voice mails first. There were two messages: one from Logan, one from Dane.
“Hey, Tess.” Logan’s deep, sexy voice in her ear sent a shiver over her skin. “Not like you to not answer texts. Hope you’re okay? Let me know. Call me, text me, something. I’ll come and check on you by dinner if I don’t hear from you. Bye.”
She couldn’t help but smile. He was sweet to be concerned. And yes, she hadn’t answered for just a few hours, but she couldn’t accuse him of being overbearing. He was right, she always answered right away. If it were the other way around, she might be concerned too. She’d text him back after listening to the second voice mail.