“You fainted, dear,” she says matter-of-factly. “We didn’t even get a chance to knock you out. You went white as a sheet! But don’t worry. There’s still time for the procedure if the doctor thinks you’re well enough.”
My mouth goes a little lax, and I look to Jack. “She won’t be having the procedure,” he practically snarls.
“I’m still pregnant?” I mumble mindlessly.
“Yes, dear. Do you think you can stand?” She gives me raised eyebrows. I don’t know. My legs still feel useless, but there’s definitely some tingles of life now. I’m still pregnant? I look to Jack, confused and shocked. What’s he doing here?
His shoulders drop a little and he makes his way over to me, insisting on taking over from the nurse. “I’ve got her.” He sounds pissed off.
The nurse gives me up to him willingly and leaves the room. “I’ll give you some privacy,” she calls, sensing the thick atmosphere.
“And me.” Lizzy heads for the door, too. “I’ll wait in reception.” The door closes and we’re alone; just Jack and me and a whole load of unanswered questions.
I hear Jack’s light sigh as he holds me. “Sit down,” he orders quietly, moving me over to the chair in the corner.
“I’m fine.” I gently shrug him off and head back to the bed, finding my bag, needing to get out of this gown and out of here. I pull my jeans and T-shirt on and slip my feet into my flip-flops. “Why are you here?”
“Why d’you think, Annie?”
“I don’t know, Jack. That’s why I’m asking you.” I pull my hair into a ponytail and reach for my slouchy bag.
Jack snatches it away and throws it to the ground. “Will you fucking stop?” he snaps impatiently, taking the tops of my arms and shaking me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You said that you didn’t want a baby.” I sound like a machine.
He looks at me in utter disgust. “With Stephanie!” he yells, but winces at the volume of his voice, breathing in to find some calm. “I don’t want a baby with Stephanie, Annie.” He drops my arms and drops his head back, clenching his eyes shut.
“You never said that,” I murmur, letting my gaze plummet to my feet.
“I didn’t think I needed to.”
“I didn’t want you to feel trapped.” I grit my teeth, forcing myself to make eye contact with him. His gray eyes have not one spark of life in them. “I didn’t want you to pick me because you felt you had to.”
“Fuck the pity party, Annie.” He releases me and stalks away. “I’ve just walked out on my wife. Again! Except this time I’ve walked out on my pregnant wife.” He falls back against a wall, looking up at the ceiling. “I didn’t know you were pregnant when I made that decision. Lizzy called me as I was walking out of my house with Stephanie hanging off my fucking back.”
I scan Jack’s body over his clothes, seeing a few rips in his white T-shirt. “Lizzy called you?” I mumble mindlessly.
“Yes, she called me. Angry. Tearful. I can’t fucking blame her. An abortion, Annie?”
My jaw quivers—I’m mad, sad, relieved. “I wanted you out of my life completely.”
He flinches, swallowing down the hurt my statement has spiked. Then he starts to gently knock the back of his head against the wall, the hollows of his cheeks pulsing. “I’ve spent the past week trying to make sense of this fucked-up situation. Stephanie’s flounced around with such a satisfied grin on her fucking face, ordering baby equipment like it’s going out of fucking fashion.” He stops with the head bumps and clenches his fists. “And not once did it feel right. Not once did I feel happy, and she hasn’t even questioned it. She’s quite content with my misery. Because a baby is going to solve everything. It’ll make me love her.”
He laughs sardonically, thumping his forehead with the flat of his fist. “I found her contraceptive pills,” he breathes. “Unopened. Not one of them gone. She hasn’t missed a few. She hasn’t been taking them at all. Not for months. I confronted her, and she denied it. She lied to my fucking face. I realized in that moment that I hated her. I couldn’t stay in that madness. Not even for a baby, and now I’m wondering what kind of fucking arsehole I really am.”
He rubs his eyes, and I can tell it’s to hold back the tears. He’s reached his breaking point. The big, strong man I love has finally cracked.
My heart breaks for him. He’s a mess, but rather than rushing over there to comfort him, my legs give and I have to lower myself into the chair. “She did that to you,” I say, looking at his shredded T-shirt, knowing there’ll be angry claw marks beneath.
“She didn’t want me to leave.” He pushes away from the wall and comes to me, kneeling between my legs. “My head has been everywhere, Annie. When Stephanie told me she was pregnant I felt like someone had snatched away the rest of my life. And then the guilt that came because of that ate me alive.” He takes my hands, his gray eyes begging me to understand. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I was lost.”
He pulls me forward until our foreheads meet.
“All I could think of was you,” he says. “How I would carry on without you. How I’d survive without ever touching you or holding you in my arms again.” His hands move to my face and smooth down my wet cheek. “Every day became darker until my world was black. I can’t live like that.” His voice breaks, and one stray tear rolls down his face. “I can’t live without you.”
Despite my own tears, a small piece of my heart clicks back together as I listen to him pouring his soul out, trying to make me understand. “I’m pregnant,” I whimper pitifully, like that news might have escaped him. My body starts to tremble as I crumple in the chair, feeling fraught and weak. But I’m relieved, too. So relieved. My mind might have failed me in that room, but my body didn’t, choosing to shut down into protective mode and bring everything to a stop when my mouth failed to voice my demand to halt the doctors.
Jack smiles. It’s a huge smile, full of genuine elation, and it’s truly a sight to behold. It makes his eyes sparkle crazily as they fall to my tummy. I see life in him again. He dips and kisses my T-shirt, then rests his head in my lap, slipping his hands around my back.
We’re sitting in an abortion clinic. I suddenly feel like a monster, dirty and immoral. My senses have been clouded by grief, my thought process purposely stemmed in an attempt to curb my hurt.
“I need to get out of here,” I murmur. “Please, get me out of here.” Jack helps me to my feet and collects my bag from the floor before holding a firm arm around my waist as he walks me out of the room, constantly looking down at me as if checking that I’m okay. I’m so okay. I have my Jack.
We meet Lizzy in the waiting area and walk out to the carpark together, saying our good-byes with hugs and promises to speak later. Jack thanks her, which she accepts with an affectionate rub of his arm. Her gesture is small, but it means the world to me.