My appointment is in four weeks. They give you a gap to change your mind. The gap is too long; I want it done now.
In class Sasha notices that something is wrong but I don’t tell her. I don’t tell anyone. Right now I can’t. Nobody needs to know about this. Nobody.
Even I don’t want to know about it.
When I make it home, I curl up in bed and cry. He’s not home. Why isn’t he home?
Can I honestly do this to him? Can I honestly look him in the eye and tell him I’m going to murder his child? Because that’s what it is. I’m giving him no choice and it’s half of him. He was right.
I roll onto my back and close my eyes, letting my woes sink into me like an anchor into the sea. My hand rests on my flat belly and I try to imagine what it would be like to stay pregnant, to carry Caleb’s baby in my stomach for nine months, to bring him or her into the world.
What would he or she look like?
Would they have his hair? His eyes?
I let out a long breath coupled with a sob and turn back on my side. Curling into the foetal position, I weep. My sorrows and sadness are too heavy to bear, my conscience too plagued with indecision.
“I can’t do it,” I say out loud to nobody. I can’t do it.
Who am I kidding? There’s no way I can kill it. No way.
But if I don’t, my university experience will be ruined. No more drinking, not that I drink much anyway, no more just going out to the cinema or to a club. I’ll be studying my arse off and then coming home to diapers, poop and vomit.
One of us will have to quit school because there’s no way we’ll be able to afford childcare. Maybe there’s something to help students in this situation?
I’m lost so deeply in my thoughts I don’t hear the door open, so when someone touches my shoulder and the bed dips, I scream bloody murder and fall from the bed.
“Christ.” He’s laughing. Laughing? How can he laugh right now? What an arsehole. “Are you okay?
Oh my god. Caleb’s here. “I’m fine.” I climb back onto the bed, nursing my wounded pride. “You’re here.”
His laughter stops and his smile vanishes. “Yeah. I should never have left. I hate it when you cry. It breaks my heart. I’m so sorry.” His arms close around me and soon I’m on his lap. His heat sinks into me through his warm embrace.
I welcome it.
“Forgive me?” He whispers and kisses my neck. I bury my face in his chest, relieved that he’s here. “I should have handled that better. It’s just…” He sighs long and heavy.
“What?”
“Do you ever feel like it doesn’t matter what we do or who we are, we never really leave anything behind?”
And again… “What?”
He pulls back and rests against the headboard, propping the pillows up behind him. “Kids are our only legacy.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
He rubs his face with his hands and pulls me to his chest. “I mean, I want a child with you. This child, right now. Sure the timing isn’t great, but it’s a situation we’ll deal with together.” Warm hands grip mine and his eyes implore me to see his side of things. “Please, Gwenny. Don’t destroy it.”
“Okay,” I sigh and my head falls forward. “If this is what you want, then okay. We’ll do this.”
He beams and pulls me to him. “Gwenny, honestly, it’ll be great. You’ll see.”
I press my lips to his and murmur against them, “I believe you.”
Something flashes in his eyes, something that makes me uneasy. I can’t be certain what it is, I just know I won’t forget it.
“Thank you,” he whispers and presses his lips to mine. “I love you.”
“Me too.”
“Hey,” he gives me a squeeze and frowns. “If you’re going to say it, make sure you say it properly.”
Eye roll. “I love you too.”
He releases me and climbs from the bed. “I’m going to make you some tea and whatever else you want.”
“Okay.” I smile sweetly at him and watch him leave the room with a heavy heart.
He reappears seconds later. “I almost forgot.” Crawling onto the bed, he lifts my shirt over my navel and kisses just above the waistband of my trousers. “Love you, baby Weston.”
Oh god.
I just melted.
“I’m sure he loves you too.”
He kisses my navel once more, covers me up and rushes down the stairs.
I definitely just melted.
Chapter Six
“You’re six weeks and three days.” She puts a circle around the foetus so we can see it more clearly. “This flicker is its heartbeat; this will be his head eventually.” I stare mesmerised at the screen.
I hear a choke next to me and turn my head towards Caleb.
“Are you crying?” I ask him, my lips twitching.
“No.” He pouts, his hand holding tight to mine and his eyes on the screen.
The room is dark, only lit by the black and green glow of the screen. The dim shine catches a tear trail on his cheek. I wipe at it with my thumb and my smile widens.
“Soppy.”
“I’m not crying,” he protests with a smile. “I have something in my eye.”
“Both of them?” The scan lady remarks and I burst into a fit of giggles.
Caleb leans forward and presses his lips against mine. “Love you, Gwenny.”
“Love you too,” I whisper back and deepen the kiss for a moment.
“I’ll just print off some pictures,” the woman says, giving us some privacy.
I look into the eyes of my fiancé and run my fingers through his longish hair. “Are you sure about this, Caleb?”
A panicked gaze comes to mine. “Aren’t you?”
“I am. That’s why I’m asking you, because if you back out now I’ll be on my own.”
His shoulders sag, his thumb stroking my cheek as his beautiful brown eyes meet mine. “I’ll never leave you on your own, Gwenny. Never. I want this more than you know.”
What’s that supposed to mean? Why do I feel like something isn’t right about this? Of course I’m happy, what expectant mother isn’t when she finally wraps her head around it? It’s just… I can’t help but feel like Caleb is hiding something.
I’m probably being stupid. Maybe it’s my extra hormones making me read into something that isn’t there.
“Your mum is going to kill me,” Caleb says, piercing my erratic thoughts and making them pop into a million more.
“Oh shit.” I never even thought of that. “We just won’t tell her until I start to show.”
“I’m sure she’ll get over it.” I can tell he doesn’t believe his own words any more than I do.
My mum, though I love her, has always provided me with what I need but I’ve never been more than an inconvenience to her. When she finds out about this, she’ll never talk to me again. Part of me doesn’t care. The child in me still wishes for her approval and is still eager to make her proud.