But...was she sure she hadn’t had a period since?
Positive. She’d gone off the Pill two months earlier because she’d started to suffer from nausea and headaches and her doctor had recommended stopping it, at least for a while. She and Don had been using condoms since then. But they hadn’t been together in that way for at least two weeks before she found him with Leo—well before her last period. She and Don had both been too intent on separate projects at work.
The only man she’d slept with after that was...Hudson.
Although her phone was going off again, she couldn’t bring herself to even reach into her purse. She sat there, frozen in terror, scarcely breathing as she stared blankly at the bare wood studs of the garage walls. Surely, after everything she’d been through, she wasn’t carrying a child. That wouldn’t be fair. She’d slept with only three men in her life, and she was nearly thirty! And she’d had just that one one-night stand. Even then she’d used birth control. Hudson had worn one of the condoms Leslie had given her every time.
She was shaking as she withdrew her phone so she could access the internet. “How reliable are condoms?” she typed into Google and nibbled on her bottom lip while waiting for the links to appear. One website said that “male condoms” were “82–98 percent” effective. Another rated their effectiveness at 85 percent.
“Eighty-five,” she mumbled, feeling shell-shocked. Eighty-five meant there was still a significant chance of pregnancy. Why didn’t more people talk about the failures? Why did everyone act as though a condom was sufficient?
Her phone rang while she held it, startling her since she was already so jumpy. Amy. The call she’d missed had also come from Amy. No doubt her friend couldn’t understand why she wasn’t picking up; they’d just talked.
Closing her eyes, Ellie leaned against the headrest as she answered. “Hello?” she said, but the word came out so softly, so breathy, she wasn’t sure Amy could hear her.
Amy paused before responding. “Hello?” she said, far more stridently than before. “Ellie? Is that you?”
“Yes, I’m here,” Ellie replied, but she was holding her stomach with one hand.
“I was going to ask if you’d like me to pick up some takeout on my way over. But...you sound strange. Is something wrong?”
Ellie considered lying. She wanted to lie—to herself, too. But what good would it do to hide from the truth? She was too practical for that. If she was pregnant, a swollen belly would soon make it apparent to everyone. “Yes.”
“Did you say yes?” she squawked.
“I—I’m afraid I’m about to throw up.”
“Why? What’s wrong? Do you think you might have the flu?”
“No. It’s not that.”
“Then what is it? You’re scaring me!”
“Could you bring a pregnancy test when you come?”
“A what?”
Ellie couldn’t repeat the request. She was beginning to hyperventilate, needed to focus on slowing her breathing. That’s it. Calm down. In and out. Everything will be okay...somehow.
Fortunately, Amy caught on, even though Ellie couldn’t clarify at the moment. “Holy shit! Did you say what I think you said?”
“Yeah, I did. Can you get one?”
“Of course. I’m on my way over right now.”
Hudson was as busy as always during football season. He had two flights a week, some longer than others depending on their schedule, regular team practices, meetings with the coaches and managers, periodic medical checkups and physical therapy to keep his body patched up so he could make it through the season. And then there was interview after interview with the sports media, photography sessions for his various endorsements—even a commercial for a new sports drink—and numerous appearances for charity. He also spent hours watching game film so he could be prepared for whatever opponent he’d face next. That didn’t leave him with a lot of free time, but he returned to Silver Springs as often as his schedule permitted, even if he could steal away only for a night and a day.
Fortunately, the doctors had adjusted Aaron’s treatment. The new chemicals weren’t as hard on his system, so he seemed okay for the time being. The more stable Aaron became, the better Hudson felt, and that seemed to be reflected in his game. Since Miami, the Devils hadn’t lost. Hudson couldn’t take all the credit. Some of his teammates had really stepped up—his front line in particular. They hadn’t allowed more than a handful of sacks in the past six weeks. But he was having a good personal season, too, and felt they might have another shot at the Super Bowl.
“So this is the new abode?”
Hudson had just let Bruiser in through the front door of his home in Silver Springs. Like Hudson and the rest of the team, for the most part Bruiser lived in LA, and he had a wife and two-year-old kid. But his wife had taken their little girl to visit her mother in New York and was gone for a few days, so Bruiser had accompanied Hudson from LA. Bruiser had expressed an interest in getting involved in the type of mentoring Hudson was doing at New Horizons, so first thing Monday morning, Hudson was taking him over to the school. They’d be addressing the student body and encouraging the boys to put in the work necessary to fulfill their dreams. He and Bruiser were even planning to show up at football practice later in the day and help the coaches by running a few drills.
“Not bad, huh?” Hudson said as he tossed his keys on the granite counter.
Bruiser frowned as he took in the wooden floors, the high ceilings, the wainscoting and the ceiling fan in the expansive living room of the ranch house. Hudson hadn’t bought the most expensive property in the area, but homes in the Ojai Valley weren’t cheap, especially when they sat on chunks of land the size of this one. He needed the space to protect his privacy. He’d spent nearly $9.5 million for this fifteen-acre, 10,663 square-foot, four-bedroom, five-bath home with its accompanying view of the surrounding Topatopa Mountains.
“You could afford a lot better,” Bruiser teased.
Hudson winked. “I love it here. You will, too. That’s why I’ve asked the real estate agent who sold me this to show you some properties while you’re in town.”
Bruiser put down his duffel bag. “You went to the trouble, did you?”
Hudson slapped his broad back. “I did, brother. We’re meeting her tomorrow.”
Bruiser fingered the Fu Manchu mustache he’d grown this season; he’d said he wouldn’t shave it off until they won the Super Bowl. “Not sure my wife’s gonna be willing to move out here. I told you that.”
“We’ll see,” he responded as if he wasn’t worried in the least.
His friend’s eyebrows rose. “You think you can convince her?”
“I do. Jacqueline’s a real softy. Once she meets some of the boys and realizes what a difference you could make in their lives, she’ll be all for spending the off-season here, at least for the next couple of years, until you have another baby or Brianne starts school.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged, relenting as easily as ever. Hudson had never met a nicer guy—not that he’d ever want to take Bruiser on when Bruiser was mad. Hudson had seen his friend pushed to that point only once, when a player from the opposing team nearly broke Hudson’s leg with a late hit. Bruiser went after the dude, and it was all the refs could do to pull him off. From that day forward, everyone in the NFL knew that no one messed with Hudson if Bruiser was around to guard him. Hudson was Bruiser’s quarterback, the man he defended, and he took that seriously. That was part of the reason they were doing so