Enlightened (20 page)
I couldn’t believe it was March already. Shaking my head I blew out a breath and wondered where the weeks had gone. It seemed like just yesterday I was pulling crackers with Nathan at my parents’ house. Nathan and I were doing better than ever, but the last two months had seemed to pass in a blur of flowers, cakes, dresses, and jogs as I’d helped Rebecca with all her wedding plans. Nicholas was doing his part too, but was taking a bit of a back seat with the girly stuff, hence my willing assistance.
I’d had to skip this morning’s run again because I’d not felt too great. I hadn’t even made it to the park to
walk
with Rebecca today, because I’d had my head stuck down the toilet. Truth be told, I hadn’t felt good all week, and now here I was sat in my bathroom with sweat breaking out on my forehead, my hands trembling and heart pounding.
No, no, no, no,
no
. This could not be happening. Practically ripping hair from my scalp I ran a trembling hand over my head as I stared again at the pale pink lines appearing on the stick in front of me. Instead of disappearing as I was desperately hoping, they were growing darker by the frigging second.
Shit
. Looking back at the box clutched in my other hand I skimmed the writing to the important part: one pink line in the display window equals not pregnant. Two pink lines in the display window equals pregnant.
Fuuuuck.
Whichever way I held this damn stick there was no getting away from the fact that there were two very clear pink lines staring me in the face.
I was on the goddamn contraceptive injection, how the hell could I be pregnant?
Shock crawled its way over my skin, replacing sweat with goose-bumps. My vision started to blur as my limbs went numb and I only just managed to grab the side of the bathtub as I slid from the toilet seat and sunk to the cold tiled floor in a heap. Trying to concentrate on taking deep breaths I thought through the situation rationally. I wasn’t in shock at being pregnant so much, in fact that didn’t really worry me at all. What was currently forefront in my mind was Nathan. Or rather the fact that Nathan was going to go absolutely berserk.
Oh God
. There was no way Nathan was going to want a child. Regardless of how far he’d come in his emotional development in the past year, he didn’t want kids, of that much I was sure. He’d not said as much, but he hadn’t needed to, horrible flashbacks of the day we’d bumped into his ex, Melissa, flashed in my mind. He’d briefly thought her baby might be his and he’d looked utterly horrified by the idea, completely repelled really.
Christ, what a mess. No doubt this would be a huge shitstorm for Nathan and I, one I wasn’t sure we’d survive. He’d probably finish with me and I’d be left broken-hearted and pregnant. What an utterly depressing thought. A dry sob escaped my throat as I tried to stand up. I grimaced as I realised it was probably just as well I hadn’t moved in with him then, that would have been a bit pointless really – move in just to move out again a few months later. I ran a shaky hand over my face and pushed some hair from my eyes. God, a glass of wine would go a long way right now, but I suppose that would be out of the question for a fair few months to come.
What to do next was the question. Realistically, there was only one thing I should be doing next, so on shaky legs I made my way to the kitchen, picked up my mobile, and dialled a number. Not Nathan, not yet; first I needed a trip to the doctors to get this properly confirmed.
Why do doctors and hospitals ask you to provide a urine sample and then proceed to cheerily give you the smallest plastic cup known to mankind? I mean for God’s sake, as if it isn’t bad enough trying to semi-squat over a toilet and pee into a cup in the first place, making it the size of a goddamn thimble really doesn’t help matters. Blowing my hair out of my face I screwed on the cap and placed the now full cup on the sink and sorted myself out. After washing my hands I attempted to minimise my embarrassment by concealing the cup in my clenched fist while walking back through a packed waiting room of curious glances and into the doctor’s room.
The arduous task and mortifying walk of shame were over, and now I was sat in Dr Rayner’s small office on an uncomfortable plastic chair, twirling the ring on my thumb so frantically that the skin below it was getting sore. In my peripheral vision Dr Rayner was typing something on her computer, but my eyes were glued intently on the freshly deposited pot of pee that was sat on her desk with a dip stick in it.
‘Staring at it won’t make the three minutes go any quicker,’ Dr Rayner said with a kind smile, making me look across at her and bite my lip in embarrassment.
‘I know, sorry, I’m just a bit nervous,’ I mumbled shifting uncomfortably on my seat.
Pushing her small circular glasses up her nose she nodded, ‘That’s perfectly natural. While we wait why don’t you give me a few details? When was your last period?’
Good question. When
was
my last period? Pulling my phone from my bag I scrolled through the calendar and frowned then looked up at Dr Rayner, ‘It’s difficult to tell, I’ve been on the injection for a while now and it’s messed up my cycle quite a bit.’
Nodding again, Dr Rayner smiled reassuringly, ‘That’s perfectly normal, Stella, some women stop their periods completely on the injection, others have light periods or irregular bleeds, it’s very individual.’
‘OK, well,’ I glanced at my phone again, ‘I was having very light periods most months, the last one was just over…’ pausing I used my finger to count up the weeks, ‘…
God
, just over eleven weeks ago.’ Shaking my head, my eyes widened at my carelessness. I’d missed several months, how the hell had I not noticed that? I’d been so busy helping Rebecca with the wedding preparations I guess I just hadn’t realised. My eye twitched guiltily; it had probably also slipped my mind because in every free minute not spent with Rebecca I’d been preoccupied shagging Nathan to make up for not seeing him as often. Damn it.
‘Actually thinking about it, I’ve been nauseous quite a few mornings too …’ My words faded away, I’d been sick, or felt sick, most mornings last week, not to mention on and off since Christmas, but I’d blamed it on all the extra early morning runs I was doing with Rebecca. Closing my eyes I ran my hands over my face. I felt like such an idiot. How had I not put all these signs together?
Glancing at her watch Dr Rayner nodded and then leant forwards to pick up the stick, causing me to tense in anticipation and hold my breath. Tilting the stick under the light from the desk lamp she briefly inspected it and then smiled up at me, ‘Well, Stella, it seems your suspicions were correct; you are pregnant.’
I’m going to have a baby.
I breathed in deeply through my nose and then let it out through my mouth.
I’m going to have a baby.
The words rung in my brain over and over again until Dr Rayner’s concerned tone broke into my spiralling thoughts, ‘You look a little pale, dear – would you like a glass of water?’
I shook my head and smiled limply across at her, ‘No, I’m fine thanks, it was just a bit of a shock, that’s all.’ And wasn’t that just the understatement of the year.
I’m going to have a baby.
Oh dear God, I really was pregnant, and Nathan really was going to freak out.
‘Hey, Stella!’ Kenny chorused cheerfully as I walked into the flat later that evening. ‘Want a glass of wine? It is the start of the weekend after all!’ He had a cheeky grin on his face, a bottle of Merlot in one hand, and a full glass in the other and all I could think was yes, yes, yes, I’d love some wine.
A whispered sigh escaped my lips. ‘No thanks,’ I said instead, dropping my bag down on the counter and sliding onto one of the kitchen stools.
Coming round the counter Kenny made a show of checking my forehead, presumably testing for a fever, and then stood back as he examined me with narrowed eyes, ‘You always have a glass of wine with me on a Friday night before going to Nathan’s. What’s wrong, are you sick?’ Looking up at Kenny, my flatmate and probably my closest friend in the world, I drew in a deep breath and decided to just get it out there.
‘Not sick, no.’ I shook my head and pursed my lips, preparing to drop my bombshell, ‘Pregnant.’
If I hadn’t been so desperately worried about Nathan’s reaction to all this I would probably have found Kenny’s response hilarious. First he put the wine down with a shaking hand, then behind his trendy little glasses his eyes expanded to almost comical proportions, and finally his mouth bobbed open and closed like a goldfish as he repeatedly tried and failed to speak, which made his beard twitch visibly. The vast range of expressions that accompanied his gasping was also rather impressive; shock, happiness, confusion … but finally he settled on concern as he stepped closer to me and reached out to take my hand.
‘I can’t help noticing that you don’t look thrilled, Stella,’ he said softly, ‘I’m assuming this wasn’t planned?’
A desperate and slightly manic laugh escaped my throat at his words as I tipped my head back and let it out as a humourless cackle. ‘Not planned. No.’ I shook my head vigorously and chewed on my lower lip until I tasted the copper of blood on my tongue, ‘I just found out a few hours ago,’ I told him, picking up an apple from the fruit bowl to fiddle with.
Wandering to the sink Kenny filled me a glass of water and placed it in front of me. ‘Wow … so you haven’t told Nathan yet?’ he asked carefully pulling up another stool to join me. Tossing the apple back on the counter with a little too much force I watched with a grimace as it missed the bowl and bounced skittishly across the surface before rolling off the edge onto the floor. ‘Nope, and I don’t plan to either. Not yet anyway.’
Kenny’s silence told me all I needed to know and after it stretched on for an age I finally looked across at him to see him frowning at me. ‘He has a right to know, Stella,’ he said softly, stating the exact words my conscience had been yelling at me for the last fifty-five minutes since I’d left Dr Rayner’s office.
‘I know. But he won’t want it, Kenny, so what’s the point?’ I huffed impatiently. The thought of Nathan rejecting me, not to mention our baby, was enough to make me decidedly snappy. ‘Dr Rayner has booked me in for a scan next week to try and see exactly how far along I am, so I’m going to wait until after that, then I’ll tell him.’ This was what I’d convinced myself anyway, but seeing as I’d already decided that I was keeping the baby regardless of Nathan’s wishes or behaviour, I suspected that actually saying the words to him might be quite a different matter.
I had just thrown up the majority of my breakfast when I heard my phone ringing in my bedroom. Ugh, morning sickness really was the pits. It was like my stomach became allergic to anything being within a five-mile radius of it, and annoyingly I found it affecting me at completely random times of the day. Yes, I frequently had it in the mornings, but for the past week I’d also been getting it near lunch time and around four in the afternoon too.
It should be called ‘all-day- sickness’
, I thought with a grimace as I grabbed a towel and wiped my mouth before hurrying to my ringing phone.
Looking at the display I saw Nathan’s number and frowned. Usually getting a call or message from him was the highlight of my day, but in the two weeks that had passed since I’d found out that I was pregnant I had come to dread his calls. The now familiar mixture of guilt and fear gnawed at me as I held the phone. I knew I should tell him about the baby, but I was utterly terrified of him leaving me, a feeling of dread so overwhelming that it had repeatedly stopped me confessing to him on every occasion where I had tried.
Grimacing I realised it’d be out of my hands soon enough when I started to show a bump. I was already a little plumper out front, but thankfully he hadn’t noticed yet, or if he had, he’d been too polite to say anything. Unable to ignore him I pressed “answer” and held the phone to my ear. ‘Hi, Nathan,’ I murmured softly, hating the feeling of my hand trembling.
‘Morning, sweetheart,’ he replied, his tone so soft, loving, and heated that it made my legs weak and my heart tighten in my chest. Closing my eyes I swallowed down a lump that rose in my throat. I loved him so much, if I lost him I really didn’t know how I could go on. ‘Nicholas and Rebecca want to meet up with us this weekend and treat us to dinner for all the extra help you’ve been giving them these last few months. Which night would you prefer, Friday or Saturday?’ Even in my glum state I couldn’t help a small smile lifting my lips at his question. The Nathan of old wouldn’t have bothered asking my opinion at all, he’d just have arranged it and then assumed I’d go along. He really had made such drastic leaps in his emotional development. Squeezing my eyes shut I scowled; he might have made drastic leaps, but expecting him to accept a baby was surely like asking him to jump across the Grand Canyon – impossible.
Pushing that miserable thought away I sighed softly. ‘Either is fine by me.’ My voice came out a little hoarse as I felt the start of another roiling wave of sickness creep into my stomach. Oh God, not now, not whilst I was on the phone to Nathan.
Oblivious to my panic Nathan continued, ‘Saturday then,’ he said, and a sad smile crept to my lips as I imagined him nodding efficiently and writing it in his diary as he spoke. ‘OK then, sorry to disturb you at work, sweetheart.’
At work? My sickness temporarily forgotten I glanced at the clock and saw it was half past nine, shit! How had that happened? I was so late for work! Then, without meaning to, a dry wretch escaped my throat and had me dashing to the bathroom and lunging for the toilet. I could hear Nathan’s panicked voice ringing out down from the phone that was still clutched in my hand, but I couldn’t reply; the second half of my breakfast was making a rapid reappearance and there was nothing I could do about it.
Within ten minutes I felt marginally better, my sickness had reduced and I had phoned the office to explain that I was working from home this morning – a blessed bonus to being the office manager. I’d tried calling Nathan back, but there had been no response, so instead I’d sent a brief message explaining that I was fine, just a little under the weather, and then sat down to boot up my laptop.
I’d barely checked a single email before I felt my stomach lurch again. Rolling my eyes I blew out a long breath trying to calm the roiling sensation in my gut, this really was the worst it had ever been. The doctor said it was usually worst in the first three months, so hopefully it wouldn’t last too much longer. The deep breathing wasn’t helping so depositing my laptop swiftly onto the sofa I stumbled towards the bathroom, making it just in time. I was mid vomit when I heard the apartment door slam shut followed by thumping footsteps and a loud voice calling, ‘Stella?’
There was no way I could ever not recognise that voice.
Nathan.
Panic encased me and I desperately tried to flush away the evidence of my morning sickness as I heard him stomping his way around the flat. ‘I’m in the bathroom …’ I gurgled. ‘Don’t come in, I’ll be out in a minute.’
But obviously being head-strong Nathan he was inside the bathroom and crouched by my side in less than thirty seconds. Bloody stubborn man. Soothing damp tendrils of hair away from my face he stared intently at me, his blue eyes roaming over me in concern. ‘Christ, you look dreadful … how long have you been throwing up?’ Deliberately ignoring his question I moaned and leant over the toilet again, my stomach churning with both my morning sickness and the guilty turmoil of Nathan possibly finding out about my pregnancy.
Our pregnancy
.
‘I’m taking you to the doctors,’ he continued, as I stood up on wobbly legs and flushed the toilet. Shaking my head I brushed my teeth and then pushed past him towards the kitchen, ‘I don’t need the doctor, Nathan, I’ll be fine, back to normal in no time.’ Which ironically was about as far from the truth as possible; I’d be fine, yes, physically, but back to normal? I’d have a baby in just over six months … life would never be ‘normal’ again, especially if Nathan found out and freaked out like I suspected he would.
Taking a glass from the cupboard I filled it with water and took a long and much needed drink of the cool liquid. What I really wanted was some ginger tea, but seeing as the box said ‘Maternity Aid’ on the side I wasn’t going to pull it out in front of Nathan.
‘Stella,’ Nathan growled, as he came up behind me and stroked my shoulder possessively, ‘I’m taking you to the fucking doctor
right now
.’ He might be more amenable these days, but Nathan’s Dominant side was never too far from the surface and as I turned to face him I saw from the taut expression on his face that he wasn’t going to be otherwise persuaded. Ironically, in different circumstances I would have been thrilled by how much he obviously cared about me. Sighing, I realised I had a big decision to make, – did I tell him myself, or chicken out, play dumb, and then let my doctor break the news to him?
Just then Kenny sauntered into the kitchen, took one look at my pale face, one look at Nathan’s imposing and tense stance, and swallowed loudly. ‘Uhhh, what’s going on?’ Kenny asked hesitantly. He was always a little hesitant around Nathan, uneasy and fidgety, but I still had no idea if that was because of Nathan’s domineering presence, or because Kenny still had a little bit of a crush on my man. From the way Kenny’s eyes always skimmed up and down Nathan’s appearance I suspected the later.
‘Stella’s been throwing up almost constantly for the last hour and she won’t let me take her to the doctor,’ Nathan hissed between clenched teeth. ‘Get your coat, Stella, I’m taking you now.’
Tutting, Kenny dismissed Nathan’s remarks and to my utter horror walked straight over to the cupboard, pulled out my ginger tea bags, and waggled the box. ‘Ooh, feels like we’re running low, best stock up tomorrow.’ Then turning and clicking on the kettle he smiled at Nathan, ‘She doesn’t need a doctor for morning sickness, ginger tea has be working brilliantly, hasn’t it, Stel?’ Kenny said cheerfully before freezing and turning to face us as he realised his error.
Oh my God
. It felt like time had paused for a short moment as my breathing froze in my lungs. He didn’t just say that, did he? Suddenly morning sickness was the last of my worries as breathing in a new breath became rapidly more difficult.
Fuck
. Nathan was glaring at Kenny like he’d just grown an extra head, and in turn Kenny looked like he was considering whether to try and cover up his massive blunder or run for the hills. Dumping the box of teabags on the counter he flashed me an apologetic wince before silently dashing from the kitchen. Great support mechanism my best friend turned out to be.
Thanks a lot, Kenny
, I thought.
Snatching up the box Nathan inspected the label, his face getter redder and redder every second, to the point where I thought he might actually combust, before he finally turned his icy stare on me. ‘Morning sickness?’ he demanded holding the box up.
Fight or flight? Lie or confess? Bugger it, thanks to Kenny there really was no way to get out of it now, so with a rise of my shoulders I bit down on my lower lip and nodded. Seeing how much he hated it when I nodded this was a risky strategy, but right now I was all out of words.
Placing the box of tea down I watched as Nathan’s fists clenched by his sides until the knuckles turned snowy white. ‘You’re pregnant?’ His voice had dropped to a deadly whisper, a tone I actually found more terrifying than his raised voice, so once again I nodded at him, before remembering his hatred of my silent communication and confirming it vocally. ‘Yes … about twelve weeks. Ginger seems to help a lot with my symptoms.’ When I’d had my scan a few days ago the nurse – unaware of my situation with Nathan – had smirked at me and said that I must have had a great run-up to Christmas because the baby was probably conceived at some point in early December. Seeing as we’d had a lovely festive season together I would have found that all quite romantic if Nathan hadn’t been currently looking quite so furious.
The next few minutes stretched on in torturous silence. First Nathan simply stared at me while blinking rapidly, far too rapidly – I could practically hear the cogs in his head grinding as he studied me with his head tilted and his jaw sawing relentlessly at his lip. He body remained tensed and furled, his anger obvious, then he let out a long, low breath through his teeth, turned away from me, and ran his hands repeatedly over his face as if trying to wash the last few moments of his life away.
My heart sank. Whichever way I looked at it, his response showed he clearly wasn’t thrilled by the news. I’d suspected he didn’t want children, with his abusive upbringing and peculiar lifestyle until he’d met me I don’t think he’d ever even considered it, but a small shred of me had clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d be thrilled by the news and scoop me into his arms with a delirious laugh.
‘You don’t look pregnant,’ he stated in a low tone, which was true enough, my stomach was still quite flat if you just gave it a quick glance, but since I’d found out about the baby and looked carefully in the mirror I’d realised that I was starting to get a bit more of a pronounced tummy – which now made sense of my tight fitting bridesmaid dress.
Suddenly Nathan’s hands shot to his hair and ran through it almost violently, making me wince. ‘Three fucking months and you didn’t tell me?’ He growled the words and I grimaced at his gritty tone, biting my lip and trying to bravely hold his stare. In my defence I’d only just found out the dates myself really, plus I hadn’t told him because I thought he’d freak out, and boy was he proving me right – not that he gave me a chance to say any of these thing before he spoke again.
‘How?’ he questioned suddenly, and even though I knew what he meant – how was I pregnant when I was on the contraceptive injection – I couldn’t help but let my disappointment escape in the form of sarcastic anger. ‘In the usual way, Nathan, you fucked me, repeatedly and frequently, and hey presto!’ I made a dramatic sweeping motion with my arm towards my stomach, ‘Just like magic, I’m pregnant.’ That was a bit unfair really – yes we shagged like randy bunnies, but I’d instigated just as many of our liaisons as Nathan had, in fact, in that area of our lives we were equally as insatiable, something that hadn’t reduced at all in our time together, but right now I didn’t care about any of that, I selfishly wanted him to hurt, just as I was.
Nathan’s eyes narrowed at my tone and he took a step towards me, but it didn’t bother me, I was so upset at his obvious rejection that all I wanted to do was get him out of here and go to bed to cry. ‘… and I didn’t forget my bloody injection, if that’s what you’re wondering. I had it done on time, but it’s only ninety-eight percent effective.’
‘A baby,’ he repeated in a low tone, apparently speaking to himself, before turning and punching his hand down into the marble work surface so hard that I physically jumped on the spot and yelped in surprise. Crikey, he’d hit it so hard we’d be lucky if that surface wasn’t cracked, and goodness only knows what damage he’d just done to his hand.
I suddenly felt immensely drained, both physically and emotionally, and decided my morning of working from home could turn into a day off. ‘I don’t feel great, Nathan, I’m going to bed,’ I said on a sad sigh, wanting him to pull me into his arms for comfort, but knowing that it would never happen.
‘Fine, I’ll leave.’ Spinning on his heel he didn’t say another word and then walked out, slamming the door behind him and leaving me speechless and numb in the kitchen. He hadn’t even looked at me as he’d left, not even a tiny glance. So that was it? No
‘Let’s talk about this, Stella,’
or
‘Let me tuck you in and make you some tea’.
Nope, just
‘Fine, I’ll leave’
.
Well, shit. If possible that had gone even worse than I’d predicted.