Laura
I stared at the pregnancy test like I could intimidate a second line into appearing.
Nothing.
One line.
I picked it up and tilted it toward the bathroom light.
Still one.
“Maybe it needs another minute.”
From the bedroom, Stephen sighed.
“It has been twelve minutes.”
I looked toward the open door. “Nobody asked you.”
“You’ve checked the instructions four times.”
“Maybe I missed something.”
“You didn’t.”
I looked back at the test.
Negative.
Again.
“Damn it.”
Stephen appeared in the doorway wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, his hair still messy from sleep.
“Come back to bed.”
“No.”
“Laura.”
“No.”
“You’re arguing with a piece of plastic.”
“It’s being an asshole.”
His mouth twitched.
“Don’t laugh.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re trying not to.”
“I value my life.”
