The look on Truex face says it all, he looks so confused. "How are you not pregnant?" He asks, shaking his head in amazement. He looks so disappointed I actually feel bad for him. My mouth drops along with my heart.
"These things take time." I say, finally. I look at the test laying on the sink, maybe there's something wrong with me? I watch as he picks it up to study it. "Don't touch it! I just peed on that." I tell him, trying to swat it out of his hands. He leans away looking at the test, with even more scrutiny, if thats possible. He then takes off the end I peed on.
"Why are you taking it apart?" I ask, confused. He literally cannot accept that I'm not pregnant and its making me feel awful about it.
He turns to me, amused. "You pee on this part." He explains, showing me the white tip hidden under the purple cap.
I look at him surprised. "Are you sure?" I question, picking up the box. I nod, looking at the picture I see that he's right. "Oops." I'll need a minute. I don't have to pee yet.
"I can't believe you." He chuckles, and I notice the relief on his face.
"Well, excuse me. I don't know much about pregnancy tests. How many have you taken? Or should I ask how many girls you've knocked up?" He glares at me and I glare back, finding it a little suspicious he knew how these worked.
"It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. This part absorbs the sample, and this window shows the reaction. How did you thinking peeking on plastic was going to work?"
I shrug, feeling stupid. I try to think of a snappy comeback to defend myself, but end up laughing. "I don't know. I thought it was weird, so I peed on the little squares too." I smile, devilishly. Seeing his finger on the little window part.
He throws the test away. "Good thing there's two." He replies, washing up. He dries his hands off and offers me the new test. "Try number two."
I reluctantly take it from him and wait for him to leave. I do the test right this time and place it above the little puddle of pee the other test left on the counter. I take toilet paper and clean up the mess and pour some complementary hand-sanitizer on the spot. I hear the door open and watch as Truex comes in to stand over the pee stick.
"You know what they say about a watched pot?" I whisper, amused. He just grumbles and continues giving the test his undivided attention. I roll my eyes, "Truex, is there a history of mental illness in your family?" I ask, taking in his
serious expression. Even his posture screams, this is a dire life or death situation!
"No." He answers, not moving a muscle.
I shake my head and leave the bathroom. I sit against the headboard of the bed and flip on the television. It not that I don't care if I'm pregnant or not, but I don't want to watch him disappointed again. Strangely, it made me feel inadequate, like I failed at yet another thing. I watch the screen, not really seeing it. I listen for any indication from Truex what the results are. Dear God, I cant believe I'm wishing I'm pregnant. I watch Truex come to the doorway, he stares at me and I tilt my head to the side, trying to decipher the look the look on his face.
I throw up my hands, "Well?"
The smile that splits his face comes slowly and I freeze. "You're not pregnant." He states, walking to the bed. He puts his hands on either side of me and kisses me deeply.
I break the kiss, the breath I'm holding rushes out a. "What? You're not upset?" I ask, remembering the look on his face from earlier. He shrugs, "It will happen when it should. I don't mind the practice." He says, his voice holding
promises, that make me blush.