Pregnant by My Sister's Boyfriend

by Alice Carina

  "Um... Ye-yeah, sure," he hesitated, one of his hands moving from around me and sliding across my widened waist to reach my stomach.

  She'd stopped moving for a couple of seconds, but instantly resumed her kicking in response to his touch. I once read that fetuses recognized faces and voices. I liked to believe that she already knew him and already liked him.

  "W-wow," he breathed, his hand and eyes on my stomach.

  I smiled to myself despite the stiffness in my cheeks and closed my eyes, savoring the moment, but I fell asleep.

  When I woke up again, the sun had come up, and the moment had passed.

  My sister's boyfriend found out that I was pregnant with his baby. My sister found out that I was pregnant with her boyfriend's baby. My parents found out that I was pregnant with their other daughter's boyfriend's baby.

  I struggled to get out of bed and into the bathroom. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew that I couldn't stay in bed alone. I had to go back to the hospital to check on my sister before school, I had to try to explain things again, I had to clarify things to my parents, I had so much to do, but didn't know how to do it or if there was any point doing it.

  When I finally exited, I found Chad sitting on my bed, startling me. I'd forgotten that he'd come over the night before.

  "I tried to make you a cup of tea," he explained his earlier absence, "but I couldn't figure out where anything was."

  Just the sight of him there with me and my baby almost made me feel better. I didn't deserve to feel better. I didn't deserve him.

  "How are you feeling?" He reached for my hands when I neared the bed, pulling me closer to him.

  "I didn't mean for any of this to happen," my voice was still cold and distant. "I didn't want to hurt her, neither one of them was supposed to know. They were supposed to stay happy until they outlived their high school romance on their own terms. I took so much pain to avoid hurting her, I avoided hurting him just to avoid hurting her. But the truth is that I got pregnant by my sister's boyfriend, I didn't tell her, and I let her fall in love with him, then I selfishly snapped at him and made him figure it out, and she heard, and I..."

  "Hey, hey, hey," he mumbled softly, standing up and holding me. "You thought you were doing the right thing, you were thinking of her."

  "What if I wasn't?" I sniffed. "What if I was just scared for myself; scared of what she or mom or dad would think, scared of them hating me that I risked my sister's feelings just so mine wouldn't hurt more?"

  "Katie-"

  "I mean, what was I waiting for? Was I going to tell her the truth after they broke up or never because if they broke up it wouldn't matter anymore? What if they weren't going to break up? What if they had found the real thing? What if he was the love of her life and she of his and they were going to be together forever if it wasn't for me? What if I ruined my sister's only chance at love? What if she never gets over him? What if she never forgives me? What if my baby never forgives me?"

  "Katie, you need to calm down," he held my face in his hands to stop me from shaking it. "You can't do anything but wait it out. There's nothing you can do now."

  "But I-"

  "You need to focus on your health and on your baby's. Didn't you once tell me that you read that babies share their mother's emotions?" He knew he had my complete attention with the mention of my baby. "Didn't you promise yourself to try to stay happy and positive for her?"

  "I don't deserve to be-"

  "Yes, you do. And your baby does, as well. So, for the next couple of months, you're going to let things go. You will keep on smiling and laughing no matter what happens, then we'll figure things out together when your baby is safely delivered, alright?"

  "Alright," I nodded and surrendered into his arms, letting him be everything I didn't deserve but my baby did.

  "I know what will cheer you up," he suddenly pulled away with a playful smile.

  "What?" I couldn't help smiling when he smiled. His smile was just so beautifully contagious.

  "Where do you keep your nail polish?"

  "In the top drawer?" It came out as a confused question.

  "Alright, sit down and tell me what colors you like," his smile deepened.

  He opened the drawer and told me to select my favorite ten colors.

  "Um... Blue?" He picked one, but it was the wrong shade, "That's baby blue, I like royal blue or azure." That went on for a while with several colors and he insisted that I didn't get off the bed to pick them, so he brought all the nail polish bottles over to the bed.

  "Pick ten," he instructed and I quickly did, still not sure where he was going with that. "Okay, now sit back and relax." He spoke as he grabbed my foot, I quickly yanked it back.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Painting your toes,"

  "Why?"

  "You said you couldn't reach them anymore," he shrugged, "so I'll do it for you."

  I wasn't sure if it was appropriate or not for a boyfriend to do that and I thought it was going to be awkward, but, the moment he grabbed my foot again, I burst into tickled laughter.

  He looked too serious and adorable as he concentrated on each toe that I couldn't remove my smile the entire time.

  I watched as he painted my toes and realized that if I was only going to remember one day from my entire pregnancy, I wanted it to be that day, despite everything. I watched the sun in his hair, the focus in his eyes, his teeth biting into his lip, his gentle touch, and realized that I'd never felt that way about anyone before, that – pregnancy hormones or not – no one would ever make me feel like that boy did, and I loved... I loved how he made me feel.

  He'd made it to the last toe on my other foot when his phone beeped and he jumped in surprise at the noise after the long silence, sliding the colored brush across my pinky toe.

  "I'm sorry,"

  "It's okay," I chuckled, "I'll get the polish remover."

  I stood up and walked more awkwardly than ever, keeping my toes spread apart and off the ground as I moved towards the bathroom, not wanting to ruin his work.

  I was rummaging through the cabin below the sink when I realized that I actually needed to use the toilet. I figured a few extra seconds wouldn't be noticed, but so much had apparently happened by the time I walked out.

  I opened the bathroom door and found dad standing in the doorway to my room, across from Chad who had his hand extended out towards him while dad just blinked at it like it was extended from a wall.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "I just told you, sir," Chad spoke politely, "my name is Chad-"

  "I didn't ask for your name," dad snapped. "I asked you what you were doing in my daughter's bedroom."

  "I-"

  "Dad," I walked into the room, averting their attention from each other and onto me.

  "Are you out of your mind?" Dad yelled at me, louder than he ever had, addressing me for the first time in so long. It was going to be terrible.

  "Chad," I spoke his name while still looking at my dad, "I think you should go."

  "No, I can't le-"

  "Please," I begged him, "you have to go. I'll see you at school."

  He took a moment to look between me and my dad. I knew that he didn't want to leave me alone, but his being there was only going to make things worse.

  "Are you sure you'll be okay?" He asked me, not caring about the glare my dad snapped in his direction at his words.

  "I'll be fine," I assured him. "I'll see you in a bit."

  He nodded at me hesitantly before turning back to my father. "I wish we'd met at better circumstances, sir, but this really isn't what it looks like."

  "Just get out." My dad squeezed his eyes shut to contain his anger.

  Chad looked even more hesitant to leave me then, but even he figured out how much worse he'd make things by staying there, so he looked at me one more time before leaving.

  Dad remained silent with shut eyes until we heard the door downstairs close after Chad, then his eyes sn
apped to me.

  My dad had avoided looking at me for such a long time that I didn't know how to feel about it. His eyes didn't hold his usual loving, caring, humored gaze; they were full of anger, disbelief, confusion, repulsion, they reminded me of Josslyn's eyes.

  "What is wrong with you?" He yelled. "Have you completely lost your mind? Who are you? There's no way you're my daughter, there's no way I could've raised this," he motioned his hand at me with disgust.

  "I-it really isn't wh-at it lo-looks l-ike." I stuttered when I realized he was waiting for me to defend myself. "Nothing happened. He was just looking after me, that's all."

  "Who is he?"

  "He's my boyfriend." Dad looked as if I'd just told him I was pregnant again.

  "This isn't normal," he shook his head, his voice lowering with shock. "This can't be happening,"

  "Dad-"

  "You're telling me," his voice jumped back to a scream as he took a few steps closer to me, "that you're pregnant by your sister's boyfriend and now you have another guy for a boyfriend? Is that what you're saying?"

  "Dad, it's not like that with Chad, he's-"

  "Don't you even dare say his name in front of me!" I trembled at the closeness of his screams. "I am never letting you out of my sight again. School and home, that's all you're ever going to be. I swear if you set foot outside this house somewhere else you will never come back in, do you understand me?"

  I couldn't believe what he was saying to me. Was he threatening to throw me out? Was he scaring me because he loved me and still cared about me or because he hated me and wanted to validate himself by saying he'd already warned me when he kicked me out?

  "And you are never seeing that boy again," he pointed in the direction Chad had left. "You don't get to have a boyfriend after what you've done. How much more trouble do you want? Do you enjoy this? Do you enjoy being pregnant? Do you enjoy hurting your sister and your mom and me?"

  "I didn't mean to hurt anybody," I whispered.

  "Shut up!" He yelled. "Just shut up. I never want to hear your voice again!"

  "Please, just let me explain." I spoke through my tears. I remembered a time when dad couldn't tolerate my tears and instantly caved for them, but he didn't see me as his daughter anymore.

  "You don't get to explain. I don't want you to explain. I don't want you."

  "But dad-"

  And then, it happened.

  I wasn't sure what had happened at first.

  I heard the clap of thunder, and my head was forced to the side so quickly, so roughly, that I felt my neck tighten awkwardly to hold onto it. Then, the stinging came; my cheek burned painfully and I felt my teeth tremble.

  I slowly turned my face back towards him, confused and dizzy and in pain, my neck hurting in the process.

  I looked at my dad and found him staring at his own hand with disbelief. He'd never raised a hand on me or Josslyn. I'd never been slapped before. He looked horrified by his own action, as if he hadn't intended it.

  He turned around and rushed away, never again looking at me.

  I heard him leave the house and start the car and drive away. I realized that he must've come to get the car to bring Josslyn and mom back home and had only come up to check on me.

  I wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel or what I was feeling, but I found myself smiling despite the pain as I touched my puffing cheek. I found out that I actually enjoyed the pain.

  Pregnancy had been a natural consequence to spending a night with my sister's boyfriend, and a painful, physical slap felt like natural consequence to the painful, emotional slap I'd given everyone.

  I knew that I didn't deserve Chad, orcompanionship, or sympathy, or a night in supporting arms, or painted toes, butI did deserve to get slapped, I did deserve to feel pain.

  Leaving

  I didn't want to be at home when my family returned. They clearly didn't want me there.

  I took a quick shower, got dressed, and left the house in less than twenty minutes. I was going to walk to school, but I found Chad's car parked in the same place he'd kept it hidden from our house when we went on our first date.

  He quickly got out of the car when I approached and took me into his arms.

  "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine," I lied against his chest, trying to force a smile. But feeling him too close to me, too warm, too caring, too good for me made me want to cry.

  "What did he sa-?" Chad interrupted his own question by his own gasp when he saw my face. "What happened?" He touched my check with a finger and I winced.

  "It's not important," I shook my head.

  "I knew I shouldn't have left you alone. This is all my fault. I should-"

  "No, please don't," I stopped him. "If anyone is completely out of the blame for everything, it's you. This was about me and I deserved it."

  "What?"

  "I deserve this after everything I've done. I got pregnant by my own twin sister's boyfriend, I lied about it, I scared my family by running away, I got too friendly with Seth, I lied to my family again, and then I had the audacity to think I deserved another chance just because I hadn't meant anything that I'd done. But it doesn't matter what I meant, the only thing that matters is what I've done and now other people are paying out of their own feelings just because I couldn't cope with mine for one night."

  "Katie-"

  "No," I shook my head, "there's nothing you can say to make this any better. It is what it is. I-"

  "Listen to me," he held my face with both his hands, demanding my silence and attention. "You didn't know he was your sister's boyfriend at the time. You were trying to protect your family when you ran away, or maybe yourself, but your intention wasn't to scare them or to get some attention. What happened with Seth was not your fault; he hadn't dealt with his past, he got drunk, and he attacked you, you didn't do anything wrong. You lied to your family because you didn't want to hurt them, or you didn't want them to hurt you, or you just wanted to stay a family. I don't care if you've done all of those things on purpose, everybody deserves a second chance. And you – of all people – deserve it the most."

  "I can't do this," I shook my head against his grasp, the tears beginning to fall. "I can't do this today. I don't want to feel better today, not when everyone I care about is in so much pain because of me."

  "Let's just go to school," he surrendered. "Maybe seeing other people who don't know will calm you. Try to get distracted with class or something. Just try, Katie, for your girl. If you really believe that you don't deserve to be happy, I have no idea what more to say. But your daughter didn't do anything wrong, so try for her."

  We drove to school in silence. When he parked and we got out of the car, he took my hand in his. I didn't want anyone to see, but I couldn't let go. He squeezed my hand, holding me together, and I would've fallen apart without him. But I took a deep breath and pulled away when we entered the hallway.

  People stared, not because he'd been holding my hand, but at my bruised cheek. No one asked, it wasn't like them to ask, staring and ignorantly guessing was preferable to socializing with me.

  Chad walked me to class and, when no one was looking, he kissed my bruise. My cheek stung, my baby stirred, and I felt better, then I felt guilty about feeling better but I couldn't stop it.

  Josslyn, of course, didn't come to school that day. And when I went back home, everything had changed, just like I naturally expected it to. Dad had turned our living room into another office; his work papers and things were scattered everywhere and he only left the room to use the restroom, making sure he was constantly in view of the front door; making sure I wouldn't leave. We stopped sitting together for dinner; the food was left on the stove or on the counter; dad ate in the living room, mom ate in her own room, the food was carried to Josslyn's room but was often left untouched, and sometimes to mine when mom realized it was better not to have me downstairs near my father at all.

  I tried talking to my mom the second day. She said that she didn't comp
letely blame me and that she knew he must've made a move on me, she said that she understood where I'd come from after everything that I'd told her, but she couldn't understand why it had to be Kyle of all people, why I hadn't immediately told Josslyn before he could even think to lie to her, why I hadn't told her so that she could've tried to contain the situation. At last, without waiting for me to answer any of the questions I didn't know how to answer, she told me that she needed some time to wrap her head around everything, that she didn't want to take sides, that she didn't want to hurt Josslyn further by taking mine.

  Later that night, I overheard my parents talking, and I heard Chad's name being asked about. There was a moment of silence, and then my father screamed; "You knew about this?"

  Dad started spending his nights as well in the living room, sleeping on the couch, mom started avoiding me, and my parents were never in the same room together again, even if they just passed each other in the hall or in the kitchen, dad would look away to the side and mom would look at the ground as they pretended they didn't see the hurt in each other's eyes.

  Soon enough, Josslyn came back to school. People didn't link her wrapped wrist to my bruised face like I'd feared, because there was a much more prominent fist-print on Kyle's face. People assumed that Josslyn had hurt her wrist by punching Kyle, and the scenes they displayed in front of everyone only verified the rumor.

  Kyle chased Josslyn around everywhere. He often didn't make it to his own classes as he waited outside hers. When people were around, Josslyn just laughed at Kyle and rolled her eyes at him like it wasn't a big deal that he was begging her for a second chance and crying in front of everyone. She made it appear that she'd dumped him over something petty that wasn't even worth talking about like he was begging her to and that he was so desperately in love when she'd never even taken him seriously.