It couldn't be that, could it? I couldn't possibly be pregnant.

We were careful; we always used protection and I even got on the pill two weeks ago as an extra precaution.

No, I wasn't pregnant. I had the flu.

When John came back with groceries an hour later, I was in one of my obsessively-clean-the-kitchen-until-you-can-eat-off-the-floors kind of moods. He looked at me for a moment as I scrubbed away with my yellow gloves, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he dropped the bags on the island counter.

"Did Maisy come by with an antidote or somethin'?" he asked with a playful smile.

I heard him speak, but the words he said didn't quite register. Silently, I started unloading the groceries.

"Hey, woa, babe, what's wrong?" he said suddenly, crossing the short space between us in two easy strides and taking my face in his hands, his thumbs wiping at stray tears I didn't know were falling down my cheeks. Shit, shit, shit...

I sniffed, wiping at my tears, taking a step back from his embrace to look at his face. How was I supposed to tell him? How was he going to react? I could very well be making a big deal out of nothing.

"You're scarin' me, Carly," he pressed.

"It might not be anythin'," I began slowly, running my fingers through my hair. I had to tell him, even if it did turn out to be nothing. "I'm late," I said, fresh tears falling down my face again. I blinked and cleared the lump in my throat.

"I'm late," Carly said, tears running down her face.

I didn't react, I didn't speak. My face remained a mask of confusion, not quite sure what she meant. I glanced at the neon numbers on the microwave, letting me know it was almost four o'clock in the afternoon. Dumbly, my initial thought was to ask her what she was late for.

"My period, I'm late," she said again when I didn't say anything.

Still I didn't speak; actually, I was pretty sure I wasn't breathing either. The confusion on my face turned into shock and fear.

"John, please just... please say somethin'," she sobbed, reaching for my hand.

"How late are you?" I choked out.

"Almost a week... five days," she answered softly, bowing her head in shame, tears still falling steadily down her face. "Please don't be mad at me, I didn't mean for... It could be nothin' at all... or..." she trailed off.

"Or we could be havin' a baby," I finished for her.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Sweetheart, I'm not mad at you, don't you for one second think that I'm mad at you," I told her urgently, reaching for her, tipping her chin back so that she was forced to look at me. Tears were streaming down my face too. "If this is happenin'... then okay, it's happenin'. We'll figure it out," I told her.

She let out a sob and I took her in my arms, kissing the top of her head.

"This is too fast... I mean, we just– it's too soon... we're not ready... We never talked about this sort of thing... about the future... about... a lot of things," she said against my chest, clinging onto me.

She was right, this was happening way too fast. I never imagined myself as a father and the thought was absolutely terrifying. I didn't know the first thing about parenthood! It's not like I ever had anyone in my life to learn off of. If she was pregnant... if we were going to have a baby... then my whole world was about to change, and I wasn't sure I could handle that. I wasn't father material. I wasn't built for that.

"You didn't take any kind of pregnancy test yet or anythin'?" I asked her, my voice breaking halfway through my sentence. I wiped my damp cheeks, clearing my throat.

"No, I just thought about it today... right after Maisy left... John, what are we supposed to do now?" she asked, not quite meeting my gaze, her cheeks flushed red from crying.

"We buy a pregnancy test and take it from there," I told her.

That night I fell into an uneasy sleep, wrapped in his strong embrace and grateful for it. He was there, unwavering despite his own fears. For a fraction of an instant it crossed my mind that he might decide to leave me... but I knew now, by the way he was taking this all in, that John wouldn't be going anywhere. He was my rock, I needed him more than anything right now.

The next morning we had breakfast in silence, neither one of us willing to make small talk. I didn't know what to say to him; I wanted to be strong for him, to be his source of comfort the way he was being mine, but I couldn't find the damn words to say!

We drove to town and entered the pharmacy hand in hand. I was glad he was here.

To be honest, I didn't know what I was looking for. I didn't even know where they kept the pregnancy tests and I really wasn't about to ask anyone, too embarrassed to do so.

John helped me look, and eventually we stumbled on the right aisle.

"How many brands do women need anyway? Can't be that complicated to pee on a damn stick," John expressed, a low chuckle leaving his lips.

"Yeah," I smiled nervously.

"Just get the cheapest one I guess? Maybe two of 'em, so we can double check," he suggested, running his fingers through his hair.

I kept noticing he always used the words 'we' or 'us' whenever he talked about this whole thing, and that reassured me more than I could ever tell him in words.

"Okay," I murmured, taking two boxes with shaky hands.

We were making our way towards the checkout counters when we first started hearing the whispers. We heard them sometimes when we walked around town together: people that didn't know us, discussing our relationship and how it was so 'inappropriate' or 'irresponsible'. Sometimes the whispers weren't so bad, but other times, like today, they made my blood boil and my skin crawl.

"Do you see what she's holdin'?" a complete stranger was whispering to a slightly older woman, possibly a sister. They were standing in the aisle next to ours. Did they think we couldn't hear them?

"Did you hear the stories about her and that man?" the other woman asked, actually nodding in John's general direction. "I heard from Cheryl that he used to work for the father when she was just a little girl... can you imagine that? He was around her when she was just a little girl, livin' on the same property..."

"To think the Atwoods were such great people," the first woman sighed.

"I've heard he still lives on the property with her, just the two of them... Doesn't she have any kind of self-respect? Throwin' her life away like that... and now she's knocked up! Of course, Steven and Debra would be so disappointed if they were still here..." the first woman went on.

"It's a shame; it really is..." the other woman sighed. "Imagine what kind of life that child will be livin'..." she added.

I looked frantically up at John.

"Just ignore 'em, it ain't worth it," John whispered, although I could feel his arm tense up around me, his jaw growing hard as he started to lead me away from the busy line.

"No! Just... no," I glared at him.

"Carly–" he grumbled warningly.

I ignored him.

"Okay, seriously, what is your fuckin' problem?" I rounded on the women, crossing my arms over my chest. "Yes, my boyfriend is older than I am... who cares!? Yes, we're havin' sex... a couple times a night sometimes... and it's great! Oh, and since you really want to know... yes, this is in fact a pregnant test, and yes, I'm going to be pissin' on it to find out whether or not John knocked me up!" I yelled, brandishing the rectangular box in front of them, making sure they – and everyone else in line, including the cashiers – got a good look, in case they still weren't absolutely sure.

"Babe," John warned again, but this time there was something in his voice that was almost humor. I wasn't hearing him.

"Just give it a break, goddammit! It's none of your business!" I yelled, angry tears threatening to fall. John took my arm and this time I didn't resist, following him towards the self-checkout.

The women were looking quite thoroughly scandalized.

"Are you feelin' better now?" John asked me, and I was stunned to glance up at him and find that he was smiling. I hadn't seen him smile since yesterday.

"No! I don't feel better!" I glared at him, confusion clear as day on my face. "Why the hell are you smilin' like that? John, they basically just accused you of– what? Stop laughin' at me! John, this isn't funny!" I added, but by then I was giggling too, wiping away the tears that were falling down my cheeks.

Why was I laughing?

With the pad of his thumb, John wiped away the rest of my tears.

I was feeling like such an idiot, completely and utterly embarrassed! Oh God, how in the world was I ever going to show my face in town again? I couldn't believe I'd just said all of that to those women.

"Darlin', I don't think we need any of these tests," John told me with an amused smile, putting a hand over my belly.

I followed his gaze downward to my flat stomach, stunned at what he was saying.

"I'm just a medic, so don't quote me on this, but uh... I think what you're experiencin' right now... I think they call 'em hormones," he chuckled.

"Oh my God," I said, looking up at him with terror in my gaze. "John..." I didn't have to finish my sentence; he knew what I was thinking and he was probably thinking it too, despite the smile. Shit.

"Yeah, I know," he nodded, his words followed by a nervous outtake of breath.