Normally, women go to a medical laboratory for pregnancy tests hoping the results will be positive. Sometimes their partners go with them, holding their hands and offering words of encouragement while they wait for their names to be called. Or at least, that seemed to be the case for the lovey-dovey couple sitting on the couch across from me in the small waiting room.
That wasn't the case for me.
My stomach was tied in knots, my hands wouldn't stop shaking, and every fifteen seconds I found myself glancing toward the window where Easton was standing, just to make sure he was still there. One of my biggest fears was looking up and realizing he'd left.
We'd been there for almost an hour. During that time, the other couples hadn't stopped staring at us or whispering to one another. I could
