At least until I discovered the truth about his plans.
I bought two pregnancy tests and hid them in my handbag.
When I got home, Kelly was sitting in the living room, watching television.
He looked up when I entered.
“Where have you been?”
“Out.”
He frowned.
“You could at least tell me where you’re going.”
I almost laughed at the irony.
For months, he had been coming home whenever he pleased, refusing to explain his whereabouts. Yet now he wanted to know where I had been.
“I went to the pharmacy,” I replied.
He barely looked at me.
I went into the bathroom and locked the door.
For several minutes, I stared at the tests.
I wanted to use them honestly. I wanted to discover whether the nausea and missed period meant something wonderful was finally happening.
But fear had already begun to overpower hope.
If the result was negative, I would face another disappointment.
