Pregnant. A child.
I would be a mother in nine months, and Ethan a father again.
And right now I’m the only one in the entire world who knows.
The knowledge feels almost suffocating,bining with fear. How am I going to do this? Be a good mother and keep up with my studies?
But I dismiss that thought fairly easily. My studies could wait a few months if they had to-children couldn’t. And hadn’t I always wanted to have kids one day… Was it really so different, having them now or in five years’ time? A small, surprised glow of happiness starts to form inside me, living right alongside the fear and the panic. I’m going to be a mother.
I have to tell Ethan. That’s the first thing on my mind the next morning, as I try to formte a strategy. Tell the child’s father, step one. Call my mom, step two. Find a ce to live, step three.
Easy enough. What could possibly go wrong?
I’m eating breakfast and strategizing tactics for step one when my doorbell rings, which almost cuts off my air cirction. Has he beat me to it?
He has, because when I open the gate, whoes walking up with his back straight and face determined? No one but Ethan.
My hands start to shake, and uselessly, they flutter toward my still-t stomach. I knot them tightly together.
“Hi,” Ethan says, his voice low. “Can Ie in?”
“Yes, of course.” I push the door open further and he steps inside, standing strong and tall in the center of my hallway. Well, not my hallway much longer.
We stare at each other for a few moments.
“Well,” he says, his lip curling wryly. “We’ve really made a mess out of this, haven’t we?”
Relief so heady it nearly makes my knees buckle sweeps through me. He might not trust me, but he’s noting here to tell me he never wants to see me again.
“Yes,” I say, “although it was of my making.”
“Yes, but I didn’t react the way I should’ve, either.” He pauses, frowning. “Be, are you okay? You look tired.”
Great, thanks. I’ve just been having an existential crisis for the past fourteen hours. I wring my hangs and nod toward the couches in the living room. “Do you want to have a seat?”
Puzzled, Ethan follows my lead. The furrow in his brow is deeper than it’s ever been before. “Be?”
“I have to tell you something. Something else.” I knot my hands together in myp and pray to any and all gods listening for strength. For finding the right words. Because maybe, if I can just phrase this right…
“All right,” Ethan says. His voice is an ocean of caution. “Tell me.”
“I discovered something yesterday. And I know what you might think when you hear it, but your first assumption won’t be true, because I didn’t n it at all.” My voice wavers twice, but so far my eyes are clear of tears. I can feel them waiting in the wings, though, ready for a cue only they know.
“What is it, Be?”
I take a deep breath, fear roiling in my stomach. “I’m pregnant,” I say, and then my words trip over one another on their way out. “You see, I took this herbal sleeping aid all summer, and apparently it interfered with my birth control. I’ve Googled, and it’s well-known in the medicalmunity, but I didn’t know, and I didn’t read the small print properly.”
Ethan has be a statue again, frozen marble, strong lines immortalized in stillness. He gives no impression that he’s going to speak soon, or perhaps ever again.
My hands feel sweaty. “I took the tests just yesterday. Four of them, actually. This is aplete surprise to me too. Ethan, I don’t want you to think… it wasn’t intentional.” That’s the cue, apparently, because my eyes well up of their own ord. Showtime!
It takes forever until he speaks, and in the silence, the faint hope I’d harbored weakens and sputters out entirely. His voice is weary.
“And I’m the father, I assume. Fucking hell, Be, I didn’t want more kids, especially not now.”
“I know.” I’m nodding furiously. “It’s the worst possible timing, I know that. Same for me with school.”
He’s silent again, for so long that I have time to count to sixty twice. Wondering if I should keep exining, if I can only make him see… But when he opens his mouth, I realize he’s just been gathering steam.
“You told me you were on birth control.” It’s the voice he uses when he deals with people he wants to get rid of-I’ve heard him use it with his ex-wife.
“I am. But the herb in the sleeping aids decreases its efficiency. It was actually on the bottle, but I didn’t read the fine print. That’s on me.” Desperate, so desperate to be understood, I continue. “It’s called St. John’s Wort. The herb. You can search it online.”
He nods again. Falls silent.
My heart beats a war drum in my chest.
“Where are you going now? After you move out of here?” Ethan asks. Polite interest in his voice, nothing more.
“I’m looking at ces on Saturday. If I don’t find anything right away, I’ll stay with a friend.”
“All right. Well, you have my number. Call me if that doesn’t work out or if you need anything.” He stands, and from his back pocket, pulls out his wallet. Counts through the bills. Puts a stack of them on the living-room table.
“For all the medical appointments,” he tells me, “and the vitamins, for everything like that. I know it’s costly.”
I can hardly see the bills through my tears, can barely hear him through the audible sound of my heart breaking.
This can’t be happening. “Ethan…”
He pauses by the hallway. How has he made it all the way over there in the span of my heart cracking?
His gaze is courteous, but there’s no emotion on his face, like he’s shut me out entirely. Like I’m now a stranger.
Like I’ve betrayed him.
The words spill out of the crack in my soul. “What about us?” I ask. “Is there any way you could forgive me? For lying about being their niece…”
Ethan looks away, his jaw working. “That lie seems almost minor now inparison,” he says calmly. “Did you get inspired from Lyra’s story, or was this always the n? Were you aiming for this from the first time you came over to introduce yourself? I’d have to assume so, since that’s the first time you lied to get closer.”
I can’t get enough air. It’s all been sucked out of this room, out of the space between us, leaving it an empty vacuum.This is property ? N?velDrama.Org.
“Ethan, that’s not at all-”
“Spare it, Be.” He shakes his head. The disgust on his features… it might be aimed at me or at himself or at us both. Probably us both. “You might be having my child, but I’m not about to trust you again. I’ll be in touch.”
He heads toward the front door, pulling it open. I stumble after him but only make it to the foyer before it ms behind him. Somewhere deep in the house, I hear a cat yelp at the sound.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I sink to the floor. The stone is cold against my skin and my tears, when they fall, glisten on the hard surface.