When I asked her Friday evening where she’d like to go for dinner, she tells me nowhere, that she has a headache and is gonna have an early night.
She went out for a walk on her own earlier and I thought she might come back happier, but that didn’t happen. I stand out on the balcony, looking over the water for a few minutes after she leaves, and think and over think every conversation we’ve had these last few days. She was fine up until about Monday, since then, she’s just withdrawn more and more and I’m crapping myself that all of this turn out with the press has made her change her mind about us. I can’t stand it anymore and decide to head up and ask her outright what the fuck is going on. I can’t lose her. I won’t lose her. I’ll walk away from it all if that’s what she wants. We can move here, just me and her. We can get married on the beach and live here. It’s actually a great place to raise a family so we should have at least four or five kids.
I walk up to our bedroom, she has her music playing and Paloma Faith is singing about the fact that only love can hurt like this. Ain’t that the truth.
I catch her walking out of the bathroom. Her eyes are shining like she’s about to or has just finished crying and her face is devoid of colour. She looks terrible.
“Baby, you okay?”
Tears roll down her cheeks as she shakes her head, no. “We need to talk. I have something to tell you.”
My heart shatters, and it takes everything in me not to throw it up out of my mouth as I feel myself sway where I stand.
Nina
I’m pregnant. The one thing that I’ve hoped and dreamed of has finally happened. It’s both the happiest and saddest day of my life. I’m about to break the heart of the man I love.
He’ll leave.
He won’t want me now.
I don’t think we’re strong enough to survive this.
I grip the pregnancy test stick in my sweaty hand and go and sit on the edge of the bed, but I can’t breathe. Panic is starting to set in so I stand up and Conner follows me outside to the balcony. I look out over the calm, serene water below us. The waves are lapping gently, the yachts barely bobbing with the force. Conner leans on the railing next to me.
“You promised Meebs. Don’t do this, please don’t do this.” I can’t look at him. I don’t know how he knows. I’m assuming he’s guessed from my crazy arsed behaviour this week, or maybe he heard me being sick the last three mornings.
“You said as long as you had me you’d fight. Well, you’ve got me, all of me. Every fibre of my fucking being is yours, you own it, so please, just love me enough to want to stay and fight.”
My head’s pounding and spinning. I can’t think straight and don’t quite understand what he means. “Of course I’ll fight, I’ll never stop fighting for us,” I tell him.
He’s silent for a few seconds. “You’re not leaving me then?” His frown matches mine as I finally turn to look at him.
“No, of course, I’m not. Why ever would you think that?”
He thought I was leaving him, he was that panicked because he thought I was leaving him.
I burst into tears. He reaches for me, but I step away before his skin makes contact with mine. I have to be able to see his face clearly when I give him this news. I need to know that whatever the outcome, he’s one hundred percent on board with this. It doesn’t matter what he wants or needs, and it most certainly doesn’t matter what I want or I need, my only concern right now is the baby that I’m carrying inside of me.
“I’m pregnant.” His eyes spark to life in an instant.
“What?” he laughs as he speaks.
And now I have to deliver the killer blow. “I’m pregnant, and it’s not your baby.”
I watch as his whole body moves, it’s almost identical to the movement of the waves below as he seems to roll on the spot.
“Wha… I don’t understand. What d’ya mean, it’s not my baby? What the fuck, Meebs? What does that even mean?” his eyes are all over my face as he speaks.
“I’ve been trying for a baby with Marcus for months now. We… I haven’t been using any kind of protection with him for well over a year. I told you this already.”
I hate myself for telling him. It hurts my heart so bad and by the expression on his face, I’m hurting him too.
“But when… I thought you hadn’t slept with him in a while?”
And this is the worst part. Much worse than admitting to him that I’m pregnant, is going to be admitting to him how I got pregnant.
“I hadn’t. We hadn’t in a while and then we did. The night that I left him, we did.”
His head flies up from where he was looking down at the water. Eyes wide. His mouth hangs open for a few seconds.
“The night you left him? You mean the night he attacked you…” his words trail off and I can see his thought process registering in his eyes and facial expressions. His frown deepens and he actually backs away from me a couple of steps.