This Is My Love

After another morning of throwing up secretly, I finally decided to face my fears straight in the face, so, while Pete was gone at an early morning press conference to personally discuss the negative results of the paternity testing and Vicky's lie detector test, and the 100% truthful results of Pete's lie detector test, I stayed behind on claims of a sour stomach and dug out the three small, cardboard boxes from the back of my nightstand.
A few minutes later, after I placed the three small, white objects, one by one, on the sink, I sat down on the lid of the toilet, placed my chin in my palms and tried to remain calm. I couldn't believe the events that had been taking place these past few weeks. I was right when I said that Vicky wouldn't go down without a fight.
Within two days the Internet and magazines were littered with her claims that it was Pete's baby, and we were, all of us, on damage control. By the end of the week, all of Pete's band mates, my band mates, our publicists, and even Pete's parents were denying the claims.
"Vicky Livings is a liar, a fraud. Bruno Mars is insisting on both paternal and lie detector tests. It is Vicky who is refusing." Pete's publicist put the statement out after Vicky denied testing time and time again, saying she would "keep her dignity" and that she was "sure it was his", but after backlash from our fans and the media alike, she finally agreed, finally trapping herself in that oh so pretty web she had weaved. It had been made known to the world that Pete had been telling the truth, that it was, indeed, once, and that when the conductor of the test asked if he regretted it, Pete had said yes and passed. And when asked if he would have or would ever do it again, Pete said no, and passed. The results of the test were all over the media and Internet by that next morning, and people smashed Vicky, calling her a whore and wondering why she ever thought she'd get away with it. Honestly, I almost felt bad for the girl.
Almost.
Yet, out of all of it, this was by far the thing that made my heart pound the hardest. This beat hearing that Vicky was the demon bitch that slept with my husband, this beat seeing the ultra-sound, the anticipation of waiting for the results that we already knew of the testing to reach the public, everything seemed so tiny compared to the panic attack I had in these five minutes.
And it was about to be increased.
A minute before the time was up, the front door opened and closed, and Pete was calling to me that he was home. I looked around the bathroom in a panicked stupor, not wanting Pete to know I had taken the tests unless they were positive. And I didn't know that yet. I got up and ran to the door before quickly locking it just as Pete reached our bedroom.
"Ano, are you okay in there?" He asked from the other side of the door before twisting the handle to find it locked. This was unusual for us, for we had no boundaries, and it made him anxious. "Ano!"
"I'm fine, Pete! I'll be right out," I hummed, trying to sound normal, but I failed miserably.
"Baby, unlock the door please. I'm worried. You don't sound fine."
Damn Pete and his uncanny ability to tell my emotions from a mile away. I bit my lip as the timer on my phone went off. It was time.
"Just one second, please. Can't a girl get some privacy?" I asked, slightly annoyed. I could almost hear Pete's hand tense up on the door knob, and his shock was loud and clear. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of himself, before responding confidently, yet his concern still laced through his voice.
"Not from your husband," he stated matter-of-factly. Just then, a knock came on the front door. Pete groaned, but I thanked the good Lord for the interruption.
"When I'm done sending whoever is at the door away, I want to be able to see that you're okay... Alright?" He asked. I fumbled nervously with the hem of the pale silk slip that I slept in and nodded my head with my eyes to the floor before remembering he couldn't see me.
"Alright, go answer the door," I urged. Pete sighed and left the other side of the bathroom door, mumbling something about a locked bathroom door and confusing women under his breath.
As soon as he was gone, I side stepped over to the sink. I bit my lip and closed my eyes to try to calm my racing mind and even out my almost labored breathing before opening them back up. I tried to just peer at the sticks out of the bottom corner of my eye, but I couldn't read the little screen. Slowly, I inched closer and closer until the words were clear. A shaky hand fluttered to my throat as my breathing hitched.
On each white stick, the screen read positive.
I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying desperately to rattle my brain around to make sure it was working right, before opening them again and carefully re-reading each stick. But the results were the same. I grabbed the sticks and picked them up, examining one after the other before pressing them against my chest and letting out a shaky, airy laugh.

"Oh, Lord, tell me what I did to deserve so many riches," I whispered to myself with my eyes closed. "Thank you."
I finished my little prayer before taking the sticks from my chest and smiling down at them. I couldn't believe it. It wasn't real.
Pete's baby...
I looked down to my belly and placed a still shaking hand on the temporarily flat surface.
"Great timing, little one," I whispered in an amused tone to the little being that had taken up residence inside me while all this craziness went on. I knew this transition, from friends to lovers to married couple to parents, was the normal thing to do, yet I knew it wasn't normal. It was fate. It was just another sign that Pete and I were meant to be.
Pete!
Jeeze, amongst all my thoughts about Pete and I, I had almost forgotten to tell him!
A large smile grew on my face at the thought of his reaction to the news. Surely it will go much better than when Vicky tried it. I almost giggled at the thought. I couldn't help it. I was so... Happy.
I gripped the three sticks tightly in my hand and turned to run out of the bathroom. I practically skipped through our bedroom and down the hall, my eyes glued to the sticks in my hand and a stupid grin on my face, before making it into the living room.
"Hey, Bruno, I've got something for y-"
"Ano, stay there!" Pete's voice came out desperate and fearful, and it stopped me dead in my tracks right in the entrance to the sitting room. My eyes shot up to be met with an unimaginable scene. The wind was knocked out of me and my jaw went slack, along with my fingers, letting the objects they held loose to clatter onto the floor.
There, just feet in front of me, stood Pete and Vicky. Pete had his hands in the air, his eyes wide with fear as he stared at me over his shoulder as Vicky stood just a foot from the front door... With a gun pointed at his chest.
Vicky looked at me with a cold glare.
"Now here's the girl I was looking for." And with the chilling smoothness of a predator, she moved the aim of the gun to me.