Yes. You can't take it off.

The next morning, John kisses me off, and I almost kiss back this time. He's fucked me every day that he's essentially trained my body to react any time he touches me. But it's time to say goodbye to the old fucker. As he drives off to work in his fancy-ass car, I quickly start by reaching back to try and pull Reagan off. I tug my hair, and it's followed by a sharp pain instead of it coming off.

I reach back and search for the seam, tugging at the bare skin on my back. I take off Reagan's clothes, bra, and go to the mirror in a **** attempt to get Reagan off. To get back to my normal life. To stop being fucked over every single hour by a horny neighbor who can't keep his hands off his hot wife!

It dawns on me on what might be wrong. I do a quick pregancy test.