Chapter 2

Morning came like a sledgehammer to the face. I didn't feel good. Why didn't I feel good?

The empty spot next to me felt radioactive. Like a black hole that pushed me away instead of drawing me in.

I felt something in my hand and squeezed; cool, plastic. What was it? – pregnancy test. Last night's events played out in my head like a movie on fast forward.

I was out of line, so blinded by my goal, I didn't stop to think how it would affect him.

A crashing sound made my head snap towards my dresser at the foot of my bed. Celia stood staring at me like a deer in headlights.

“I was just borrowing your makeup,” she said, squaring her shoulders with a determined look on her face. “It's not good anyway so I didn't bother using it.”

My purse was on its side. I always set my purse upright. A niggling feeling took shape in my mind but was quickly swallowed up by the more pressing issue at hand.

My feet hit the ground before the thought formed fully in my mind. I needed to make him a hearty breakfast to apologize for overstepping.

I found him lying on the couch, head craned at an awkward angle. His neck would definitely not thank him for that. I went up to get him a couple tablets of ibuprofen and a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table for when he woke up.

The kitchen smelled wonderful by the time I was done. I went into the living room but Oscar was nowhere to be seen. The pain reliever and water remained untouched and my heart sank.

As I dished the heaping piles of eggs, bacon and waffles onto the table next to a pitcher of orange juice and a kettle of coffee, I hoped the meal I'd prepared was enough to right my wrong.

I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and waited for him. My heart was beating so fast as he rounded the stairs into the kitchen.

“I made you breakfas–” The sight of Celia's smug face made me want to rip my hair out.

“Well, you had better. You were very rude last night and I could report you to my son but you're lucky I'm a nice person.”

She sauntered over to the table and inspected the food.

“I prefer pancakes –” she said, poking at the stack of waffles as if she expected something to crawl out from under it. “–but I guess this will do. Maybe you're not as useless as I thought.”

I rolled my eyes as the old witch walked out. The next footsteps I heard were my husband's. My heart did somersaults in my chest; if Celia's reaction was anything to go by, we would be chatting and smiling at breakfast like we used to when we first got married.

The thudding of his brogues against the hardwood made me stick my chest out. He walked into the kitchen, tall and handsome, took one look at the spread and said “I'm not hungry. I'll get something at work.”

My body went rigid. What the hell was happening to my marriage? When did my husband turn his back on me?

We used to be thick as thieves. He would tell off his mother whenever she did something I didn't like. He would wake up early to cook with me. He used to call me the most beautiful woman in the world and take me on spontaneous dates. When had all that changed?

I ran to the living room as I heard the front door lock click open.

“I'm pregnant,” I yelled, heart pounding and a cold sweat on my forehead.

He froze with his hand on the doorknob. His briefcase dropped from his hand and he slowly turned to face me.

“What did you say?”

Hope surged in me. Finally, I had his attention. “I'm pregnant. Five weeks,” I said smiling. I went to get the pregnancy test and rushed back to hand it to him.

I couldn't judge the expression on his face but at least he wasn't–

He clutched it and stared so hard, I thought it might melt under his gaze. “This can't be happening to me. No, no, not now.”

Could I really be surprised?

I hung my head in shame and watched my tears drop to the floor. Why was this happening? I'd done nothing but love this man with my whole heart. Why?

“How did this happen,” he roared, his booming voice sending shivers up my spine.

I couldn't answer. I was lost in my own woeful thoughts.

“Answer me.” He slammed his fist against the drywall and I jumped.

“I… I don't know.” I knew. Five weeks ago, he'd come home drunk – he'd been doing that a lot. He crawled into bed with me and made me feel like a woman – his woman – again.

The stench of alcohol made me hold my breath almost the whole time but it was amazing nonetheless.

“Fuck. I can't… You have to–”

“Don't say it,” I begged through a flood of tears.

He stared at me and I thought his resolve might cave. “I can't do this right now, we'll talk when I get back.” He stormed out and slammed the door so hard, the windows rattled.

My knees couldn't carry me anymore and I slumped onto the cold floor, sobbing my heart out. Whether minutes or hours had passed, I didn't know.

All I knew was pain and sorrow. My heart felt like it was being sliced open and I couldn't do anything about it.

I felt arms lift me up off the floor.

“Come on,” Celia said as she led me to the kitchen. “Drink this.”

I was so numb, I took the cup she handed me without any fuss. Little bits of leaves swirled around the dark liquid.

“It's tea. It'll calm your nerves.”

I lifted the cup to my lips and downed the bitter tea, hoping it would do as she'd said. A second later, a wave of nausea hit me and I nearly passed out. Celia smiled – more like smirked and walked out of the kitchen.

The sound of the front door opening made me look at the clock. My eyes grew wide. It was past six.

Oscar came strolling into the kitchen and sat opposite me. It seemed only a few minutes since our blowout in the morning.

The silence felt like a weight around my neck. I could hear my heart pounding. I could only hope he'd calmed down enough to see the blessing our baby was

“I’m sorry. I'm sorry about how I acted this morning. It was uncalled for.” He took a deep breath but would meet my gaze.

“And?” I asked, feeling my heart racing.

“And I shouldn't have yelled at you. But…”

“But?” My vision started to go blurry. “I know you'll be a great father.”

“But I… I'm not ready to be a father. You have to understand that.”

“You're not…” I lost my breath and staggered to my feet. “What do you mean you're not…” everything went black.

Black faded into faint colours as consciousness started to slip in. I heard voices that I couldn't make out saying things I didn't understand.

“...there was nothing we could do.”

My eyes snapped open and I nearly got blinded by the light. Nothing who could do about what?

I stirred and tried to say something but the words came out as a jumbled mess.

A man in a white coat and glasses walked over to my side staring at me as if I was a science project he was inspecting.

“How are you feeling?”

“Nothing you could do about what?” I asked, my voice barely louder than a mouse's.

His face turned grim but he remained silent.

I started to panic, glancing around the room and realising I was in the hospital. Oscar was at the foot of the bed staring blankly at me.

“Nothing you could do about what?” I asked the doctor again.

He looked at Oscar who said nothing before addressing me. “I'm sorry but your–”

A giddy tune broke the calmness in the room. But our heads snapped to Oscar as he fished out his phone.

“I need to take this,” he said as he stepped out of the room.