Defective Typewriter
Dahlia hadn’t been feeling herself lately, she had been feeling kind of bloated, moody, and she wasn’t feeling up to sex the way that she usually was. She couldn’t tell if Cash could tell that she was feeling like crap lately, but when she woke up that morning, she had been violently sick, and that’s when it hit her. She was late. She had known deep down that something was off, but the fact that she didn’t want to be pregnant had made her blind to just how late her period was. But now that she was throwing up...she knew that she had to go and take a test. She had to at least find out if she was having a baby, so her and Cash could discuss...options. Whatever they may be in this screwed up world.
She heard the front door open, and she looked up, a gun in her hand. She was planning on going to steal a test alone, but when she saw Nate standing there, she frowned, knowing that he wouldn’t let her go out on her own. He would never ‘betray’ Cash that way. “Hey,” she greeted, like it was every day that he walked in on her and the gun Cash gave her.
