Page 58 of Platinum Pressure

Tender breasts and cramps were other common symptoms.

For weeks, my DD cup breasts were sensitive to touch, and my stomach had cramps that resembled what I felt during the first couple of days of my cycle, which led me to the blatantly obvious symptom: a missed period.

The most blaring symptom I’d experienced over the last few months was a missed period. If my app was correct, I hadn’t had a period since about two weeks before the night Porter and I had sex for the first time. The timeline made me laugh when I realized what two weeks after a period signified in my cycle.

“Shit . . . I told that man to nut in me during ovulation week, and he did. Lord, he nutted in me, and I didn’t even bat an eye. You put a baby in my womb, didn’t you?” I buried my face in my hands and let out a scream that made my ears ring.

“Then it’s the fact he nuts in me almost every time we have sex. I am his personal cream puff when I should have been his cinnamon roll.” The comment made me laugh.

Buzz. Buzz.

The timer rang through the bathroom. I walked over to the test and took a deep breath.

“Rip the Band-Aid off.”

Flipping the test over quickly, my eyes landed on the pink lines. Not one, but two very dark pink lines greeted me. The test could have been faint where it left me to interpret the results, but noooo. The stupid thing wanted to make sure I knew what it said.

“Shit.”

I couldn’t call Porter yet. This was something I wanted to tell him in person, but I needed someone to be here in the moment with me as I figured out how to tell him.

My first thought was to call my sisters, but Essence was at work, and Evie was settling into her big girl job at Daddy’s law firm. She graduated at the end of May and made the announcement the night of her graduation dinner. Daddy didn’t play about his girls and made sure we were well taken care of, so it was a no-brainer he had a spot waiting for his baby girl. Although she was a natural in her role, I didn’t want to interfere with her success at the firm while she found her footing.

Calling my best friend was the best plan of action. Plus, she worked in the clinic now and could take an early lunch to spend some time with me as I figured things out.

I stuck the test back into the box and took it with me as I made my way out of the bathroom to get dressed. As I rummaged through the closet, I trapped my phone between my ear and shoulder.

“Hey, bestie.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Beep. Beep.

I grabbed the phone and saw the call ended. I would have had the same reaction, so all I could do was laugh. When she didn’t immediately call me back, I tapped the FaceTime icon under her contact name and waited.

“Let’s try this again,” she said when the call connected. This time she looked at me with a squinted gaze as she said, “Hey, bestie.”

“Hey.”

“How are you, Pooks?”

“I’m pregnant. How are you, honey bunches?”

“Meadow!”

“Aida!”

“How far along are you? What did Porter say? How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Do you want anything? What are you going to do? Congradudolences?”

“Con-who?”

“I don’t know how you feel, so it’s a mix of congratulations and condolences if you send the baby back to the Lord.”

I giggled. “I’m going to keep it.”

“Ahh! I’m going to be an aunty!” Aida squealed into and did a little dance in her seat.

“Damn, tell the entire world why don’t cha.”