The Beautiful Accident

She looked at her calendar, her heart dropping like a tonne of bricks into her stomach. The crosses on every day were normal, written wonkily in black felt tip; the only difference was the tiny pink dot on the fifth of the month. That's when the pink crosses should have started for a week... but they didn't.

"Oh... no," Ivy whispered, the shock hitting her like a brick wall.

She was two weeks late. She counted back on her fingers three times - it all added up. But there was only one way to make sure.

Twenty minutes later, Ivy was sitting on the edge of the bath tub, staring at the edge of the pearly white sink, where a thin stick of plastic was sitting. The two minutes was lasting forever, and she was getting antsy.

The bathroom smelled of chemicals - bleach and caustic soda - because she'd been on her knees cleaning for the whole day. It was almost too clean, too white, too shiny. The smell made her feel queasy, and she swallowed to try and stem the nausea. Her phone buzzed in her front jean pocket, making her jump. In her confusion and panic, she'd forgotten her boyfriend of seven months.

Max was a simple man, only twenty-four, who worked at the local supermarket to earn a half decent wage that just about supported the pair of them with a few luxuries. Even with Ivy's wages from the petty little desk job she had at the local spa.

She checked her phone, ignoring the text from Max, and saw that it was time. She took a deep breath and pushed herself upright from the bath. The steps she took towards the sink seemed to be in slow motion, and it seemed like an age had passed when she reached it.

The thin blue line symbolised the end of everything, and yet the start of something new. Half of her hated the sign, and the other half loved it.

Ivy picked up the test, horror and awe battling it out to be her dominant emotion. After a few seconds, horror won and her knees gave out. She ended up sat next to the toilet, her knees in the air and her fingers still loosely around the strip of plastic - she stared at it in bemusement and disbelief.

In a fit of rage aimed only at herself, she threw the test away from her. It landed in the bin but she cared not to celebrate her shot. Tears and sobs burst from her and she buried her face in her hands, crying hard at the feeling of impending loss.

She stayed like that for an hour, and not even the opening and closing of the front door could halt her upset.

"Ivy?"

The girl quietened herself by putting her fist against her mouth; she prayed Max would leave the house and never find out. She could imagine it, how his face would contort into anger at her for being so stupid, how he would race into the bedroom and pack his things, and walk out of her life for good.

"Ivy?"

He was closer now, on the upstairs landing. As if to punish her, a loud sob ripped through her and made her gag. The door opened and revealed her boyfriend.

The light of the landing blared behind him - she hadn't realised how late it had gotten, so late that he needed the light on - and made him stand out. Ivy saw him as an archangel, beautiful in every respect of the word. His uneven, disproportionately full lips were turned down in sadness; his light brown eyes were half open, his dark eyebrows knitted together in worry; his blonde hair was askew from the wind outside that Ivy now heard beating against the house.

"What's the matter?" he asked, walking over to her.

She shook her head and closed her eyes, pushing more tears from her lids. She didn't want to tell him, but knew she had to. Unable to speak, Ivy pointed towards the bin. Max looked at her, puzzled, and then looked in the direction she pointed. He turned away and walked towards the bin, looking back at her before looking into the bin.

His eyes widened and he blinked twice, looking from the bin to Ivy, and back to the bin. He bent low - his knees cracked loudly, but he ignored them - and picked up the test. He stared at it, his face a mixture of emotions that Ivy couldn't decipher.

"Y-you're..."

Ivy nodded, a fresh wave of tears building in her eyes before splashing over her lids, down her face and onto her t-shirt, where they left little dark patches that lightened slightly as they soaked into the fabric.

"Oh..."

Max looked at the floor, and Ivy could about hear the cogs in his brain clicking away together as he thought. She contemplated how long it would take him to leave; she wondered if he knew her views, that she wouldn't get rid of it unless it was under specific circumstances.

While Ivy was sobbing and thinking, Max turned to her. He stared at her staring at the floor in tears, and walked over to her. He sat on the floor next her, holding the plastic strip in one hand. Ivy looked at him, more tears falling from her eyes. His arm snaked around her shoulders and he pulled her close.

"And you wanna keep it?"

Ivy nodded, wiping her eyes and nose on her sleeve.

"Okay, then..." Max whispered.

He kissed the side of her head, and Ivy coughed out another sob.

"We'd best start planning then."

Ivy gasped and looked up at him.

"W-what?" she whispered, barely audible, her voice thick from crying.

Max smiled softly at her.

"It was gonna happen anyway, at least I wanted it to. Not quite so soon, but, you know... c'est la vie, I guess."

Ivy stared at him in shock, not believing what she'd just seen, what she'd just heard. Max smiled slightly wider, and she smiled back awkwardly. As it sank in, she jumped at him, hugging him tightly and bursting again into tears - happy ones this time.

"We're having a baby," she sobbed happily.

"We're having a baby," Max repeated quietly, smiling.

She pulled away from the hug and kissed him, relief pouring from her. In that kiss, she forgot why she was ever worried at all.