Rylee blinked back tears. Focus, she told herself. Now was not the time to trip down memory lane. Either she was pregnant—which couldn’t be true!—or something else was wrong with her. She needed to talk to someone about this.

  Kathryn? Um, no. Kathryn would turn this into an epic ‘I told you so!’ moment with a side rant of ‘This all Sam’s fault!’

  Addison, maybe? Emma? What about Brianna? No, definitely not Brianna!

  Rylee shook her head. Her mom, maybe? Oh, God, no!

  She tried to stifle her sobs as she slid down to the floor, curling herself around the pillow again. Just the thought of seeing that soft, disappointed smile made the idea of the possibility of being pregnant worse.

  The problem was, Mom would insist on telling Dad, who would go into full-blown crisis management mode. That meant circling the wagon with extended family members because of the potential impact on the family’s reputation.

  A feeling of lonely despair settled over her as if her entire world had turned its collective back on her. She’d become a pariah within the community, just like Kathryn. No, they wouldn’t kick her to the curb. Instead, they’d watch her every step, claiming to be there to support her while they quietly enjoyed her pain. Hate the sin. Love the sinner.

  Rylee pounded a fist against the carpet and sat up. No. That was not going to happen, she told herself as she wiped at her face. She was not pregnant and she wasn’t willing to live her life in fear of what other people thought of her. That was not the Williams way.

  She got up and slowly walked to her bathroom. She turned on the light but refused to flinch from the sudden flood of light. She moved to the vanity and picked up the waste can to put it back where it belonged. Then, she washed her face with cold water, grabbed the nearby towel to pat herself dry, and then glared at herself in the mirror.

  “Fuck Kathryn,” she told herself. “Fuck them all. I am not pregnant!”

  She took a deep breath, then looked back into her bedroom. Time to pull out her journal and start brainstorming ideas for how she was going to spend that gap year, dammit!

  Rylee slowly walked the aisle in front of the stalls, adding some oats and corn to each horse’s feeding station. The midmorning sun beat down on the old barn. It reminded her of happier summers. Of playing tag with Chloe and McKenzie. Chasing after the horses as they played in the outdoor arena. Of long, meandering rides with Dusty, dreaming about her future.

  She stopped at Dusty’s stall, eyeing the chaotic mess of matted, soiled straw and clumps of manure, along with that pungent odor of ammonia mixing with the earthy scent of hay. Definitely needed some cleaning. Where the hell was the groom? Her horse shouldn’t have to lie down in that filth!

  She started to walk towards the tack room when she heard the familiar creak of the barn door opening. But, instead of Andy sauntering down the aisle with his shovel and wheelbarrow, Kathryn stepped in, her sunburned face etched with concern and a maybe a tinge of guilt.

  “Kathryn,” Rylee said, her voice soft with reproach. It had been more than five days and her nerves were still raw. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to apologize, Rylee,” Kathryn told her as she slowly walked down the aisle. “I didn't mean to pressure you. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  Rylee stared at her for a moment, torn. Kathryn was probably the one person in her life who truly understood what it was like to be under a constant microscope of societal judgment. The problem was that Kathryn was just as judgmental as the people she complained about.

  In the end, though, Kathryn was still her friend. “It’s okay, Kathryn,” she replied, hearing the sadness in her own voice. “I know you were just trying to help. It’s just . . . it’s hard for me to believe that there’s even a possibility that I could get pregnant.”

  Kathryn nodded, her expression empathetic. “I understand,” she told Rylee. “You have a serious medical condition that should make it difficult for you to get pregnant.”

  She stood next to Rylee and reached out to stroke Dusty’s neck. “I did a bit of research. It can be difficult, but not impossible, for women with PCOS to get pregnant.”

  Rylee took a step back in surprise and glared at Kathryn. “Really? So, you know more about this than my doctor?” she growled indignantly.

  Kathryn glanced at her before looking back at Dusty. “No,” she told her softly. “Definitely not.” She paused, then looked at Rylee. “It’s just that sometimes, our bodies can surprise us, that’s all.”

  Rylee slowly nodded, not trusting her voice. The silence between them built.

  “Maybe it’s time to see a doctor,” Kathryn blurted out. “You might not be pregnant but you still need to find out what’s going on.”

  Rylee looked away. She stared at Andy as he slowly walked across the pavilion, carrying a saddle as he approached the inner entrance. “Maybe,” she finally allowed. “At this point, I don’t want to worry anyone.” Especially myself, she thought.

  “Okay,” Kathryn allowed. “But it might be worth talking to Sam about this. Just in case. You know?”

  Rylee felt her face flush and she found herself crossing her arms defensively. She shot an icy glare at Andy just as he was about to enter the barn. One look was enough and he made an abrupt U-turn to head back into the pavilion.

  She turned to glare at Kathryn. “I don't want to talk about Sam anymore,” she snarled. “It’s over. Done with. It’s obvious that he wants nothing to do with me and the feeling is mutual!”

  A silence settled between them, heavy with unspoken emotions. Kathryn’s eyes softened, her voice gentle. “Rylee, you don't have to face this alone.”

  “First you tell me to just let him go, that he’s not worth it,” Rylee whispered as she tried to reign in a sudden spike of rage. “Now you’re telling me that I need to talk to him. Will you make up your fucking mind?!” On some level, she knew that Kathryn meant well, but just the idea of reaching out to Sam after he completely ignored her made her skin crawl.

  Kathryn stood there for a moment, her mouth gaping in shock. “Rylee, I’m sorry—”

  “You’ve already said that,” Rylee sharply reminded her. “Talking to Sam won’t fix anything. It’s over. Done.”

  Kathryn sighed, brushing a stray curl behind her left ear, her gaze a mixture of sympathy and concern. “I know. You deserve someone who loves and supports you.” She held up her hands in surrender. “Just let me know what I can do to help.”

  Rylee took a deep breath. She wanted to believe in Kathryn, to trust in the strength of their friendship. But Kathryn kept pulling her in too many different directions. This nonsense had to stop. There was no pregnancy. No reason to talk to Sam. And, no reason to continue the conversation.

  But she didn’t have to be a bitch about it, either. She took a deep breath to calm down a bit.

  “I appreciate your concern, Kathryn,” she finally told her. “But for now, I just need some time to myself.”

  Kathryn nodded, a sad, worried look on her face. She seemed to understand that she may have pushed a bit too far this time. “Alright, I’ll leave you be,” she responded. “Just remember that I'm here for you, no matter what.”

  Rylee nodded, then forced herself to walk down the aisle to the pavilion. Time to find Andy and get him to muck out the stalls properly.

  Rylee stared down at her lunch, her stomach roiling in protest. Agapi Mou usually served a decent spicy Thai green curry. She knew that Chef Austin used his own secret blend of Thai herbs and spices, but something was wrong today. It smelled rancid.

  She caught her server’s eye and waved her over. The blond woman hurried over, a look of concern on her face.

  “Is everything alright, ma’am?” she asked, fingering her black apron nervously.

  Rylee gave a slight shake of her head. “Can you have Chef Austin double-check the curry sauce? It doesn’t taste right to me.”

  The woman picked up the plate. “Absolutely, ma’am. I’ll have a fresh plate made up for you immediately.”

  “No need,” Rylee told her before she could disappear. “I’m not hungry anymore. Just bring me my check, please.”

  The woman looked surprised, almost bobbing in a flustered curtsey. “Of course, ma’am. It will take me a few minutes to have this dish deducted from your bill. I’ll be right back.”

  Rylee grimaced, waving her hand in denial. “Don’t bother,” she told her. “Just bring the check and have my car brought around.” The woman nodded, backing away before she swung around to head back to the kitchen at a rapid clip.

  Rylee bent down to pick her purse up from the floor, accidentally brushing up against the table. She gasped as a sharp pain lanced her tender right breast. She found her purse and sat up, deliberately leaning back against her chair to avoid the table a second time.

  This was ridiculous. The spotting that should have triggered her damn period had stopped after a few days. Her favorite foods suddenly taste off. Even worse? It smelled like something died in the barn, and even though Andy had torn the place apart, he couldn’t find anything.As much as she hated to admit it, something was wrong.

  She randomly looked around the dining room as she impatiently waited for her server to return. Most of the diners ignored her but one or two met her gaze with what could only be described as a vague disapproving look. What are you looking at? she thought as she glared back at them. How dare they! Just because she was eating alone this once was no excuse for judging her.

  Rylee pulled out her phone. No messages. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved that her mom was too busy planning the next community event to bother checking on her or disappointed that no one seemed to have noticed that she was gone.

  Just because she’d broken up with Sam didn’t mean that she should lose friends over it. Seriously, it had been over a week since any of her friends had invited her out.

  She took a cautious sip of her unflavored seltzer, then another. It had a bit of a mineral aftertaste but seemed to be the only thing worth drinking today.

  Rylee caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked up as her server came to an abrupt stop next to her table. Her hands were empty.

  “Where’s my bill?” Rylee softly asked. She could feel the rage building in the pit of her stomach, almost as if the acid had started to uncurl like a snake about to strike.

  The woman bit her lip, looking a bit scared. “Um, Chef refused to bill you, ma’am,” she told her. “He apologizes for allowing such a poorly made curry to leave his kitchen. He would have come out himself, but . . .” She trailed off to a whisper.

  Rylee closed her eyes for a moment as she tried to block out the woman’s apology and took a deep breath. Manners, she reminded herself. It was not the server’s fault that Chef Austin had voided the charges.

  “It’s fine,” she finally ground out, teeth clenched. “Are they bringing my car around?”

  The only response the woman gave was a rapid shake of her short blond head as she took a few steps back.

  Rylee pulled a $10 bill out of her wallet and carefully placed it on the table. Then, she put the wallet in her purse and calmly placed her napkin on the table. She took one more sip of the seltzer before she stood and pushed the chair back in.

  She took another deep breath and headed for the front door, uncertain as to what to do next. Maybe taking a drive would help.

  Rylee found herself driving north on Lake Shore Drive. Her car purred as she hugged the curves, not quite exceeding the speed limit. The afternoon sun sparkled off of the lake through her right window.

  It had been such a long time since she’d just gone for a drive by herself. She needed space to think and maybe it was better if people just left her alone for a while.

  The road curved inland as she wove through Whitefish Bay, then continued north. She loved her Lucid Air. It wasn’t just the exclusivity or that it was one of the fastest-charging luxury cars on the market. Having her own car had given her just a bit more freedom than having to rely on grabbing an Uber. No more having to justify where and when she traveled around the city. It was just a tiny step toward independence.

  She rolled down the windows, wishing once again that she had opted for a convertible. It was such a lovely day and it felt so good to have the breeze running through her hair.

  Time to focus. She tightened her grip on the leather steering wheel for a moment then forced herself to relax. Things were so complicated. She didn’t know what to believe anymore. It all seemed to come back to Sam.

  For a brief time, he’d been the only person in her world who had actually listened to her. Accepted her for who she truly was, not who she had to pretend to be. Let her do her own thing. No pressure. He just listened without the need to respond.

  Of course, they’d had sex. Okay, it had been a lot of sex. She grimaced. Not all of it had been great. At first, it kinda felt like Sam had been much more interested in getting to the end and it took some serious coaxing to get him to slow down.

  But eventually, they’d found their groove as a couple and it had been so different from her past relationships. It wasn’t that he was more mature than the guys she knew in high school. No, it was that he saw her as a person. An individual. Not just arm candy or someone who could raise his social status and offer connections.

  Sam had promised to come home regularly once school was back in session but, between her responsibilities for the high school robotics during the competition season and the NCAA college tennis season, things slowly changed. He skipped a few weekend visits and eventually stopped coming home altogether. There were so many excuses.

  Then came the ghosting. He ignored her texts for days at a time, then answered her concerns with vague reassurances that he would be coming home to visit soon. He even brushed off her offer to drive down for the weekend or to fly out to see him during an out-of-state tennis match. And the very last insult was when some girl answered his phone with a laugh and ‘whoops, wrong phone’ comment before handing the phone to Sam. After that, their breakup had been inevitable.

  The road curved a bit east and the lake fell away into the distance. Soon, she’d be past Fox Point and her turn-off to River Hills and home.

  She shook her head. She wasn’t quite ready to go home yet. She checked the car’s battery. Plenty of charge left. So, she followed the curve around until she found the freeway. Port Washington was less than a half-hour away. She could just keep going.

  Rylee sighed. Of course, when Sam had come home for the summer, she’d had no intention of restarting their relationship. But all it had taken was that wry smile and gentle laugh—and it was as if they’d never broken up.

  There were differences, of course. She was a bit more anxious about how much time he spent with other girls, even on the tennis court. She even considered asking him to wear a condom because she had no idea how many women he’d had sex with during his time away. They’d talked that through, though. He’d even offered to get tested for STDs to prove he was clean.

  The breaking point seemed so inconsequential in retrospect. Rylee still had no idea how or when the argument began. It slowly grew over time. She mulled it over, still trying to understand why Sam had changed so much.

  She’d been so damn proud of being accepted to Wellesley College. It didn’t matter that her parents still provided significant funding to Wellesley’s endowment or that her mother was active in the alumni association. What mattered was that she’d done it all on her own.

  Like most high-profile universities, Wellesley had done away with the whole ‘legacy admittance’ policy after the Supreme Court had rolled back affirmative action admissions. Acceptance wasn’t just about strong grades, extracurricular activities, awards, or letters of recommendation. It was also about demonstrating how her personal values and achievements aligned with the Wellesley community.

  That made her acceptance to the college that much sweeter. And what had Sam done? Did he congratulate her on getting into the best damn college in the world? No.

  Did he agree to fly up with her to check out campus amenities over the summer and give her some helpful advice so that she was ready to dive in once her gap year was over? Absolutely not.

  Did he drop increasingly snide and hurtful jokes about how awesome it was to have a family so connected that all she had to do was look at a college admissions officer and she was guaranteed acceptance? Yes, yes he did.

  And, once it was over, did he simply turn his back on her and act as if she didn’t exist?

  Rylee sighed, shaking her head as she fought back tears. She glanced at the side window at the trees as they flew past. Soon, she would be in farm country. And then what? she asked herself, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.

  She could bypass Port Washington and just keep going. At some point, the highway cut west and headed for Green Bay. After that, she’d be as lost as she felt right now.

  Something was very wrong with her, physically. Pregnancy or not. Some kind of virus, an auto-immune disorder, or maybe even some sort of cancer was to blame. The only person in her life that might be able to help her navigate this was Sam. He had always helped her when life was overwhelming, even before they dated.

  She slammed her fist against the leather steering wheel. Why did he have to be such an asshole?

  The Port Washington exit was coming up. There were a few antique shops that she could stop by. Or maybe she should just turn around and head for home. She wasn’t solving anything by just driving around.

  A kitschy coffee shop right after the next exit beckoned and she found herself pulling off the freeway. The parking lot was pretty empty and she found herself sitting in the back of the shop, huddled over a hot mug of cappuccino a short time later.

  She pulled her phone out of her purse and stared at it for a long time. What was she going to do? Make an appointment with her GP? Retake the home pregnancy test? Ignore it all and hope that it went away on its own?

 

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