Surrendered

by Monica James

  Jasper scrunches up his brow, confused.

  So I clarify. “Is that the only reason why you want to marry me? Because I’m pregnant?”

  “What? No, Ava, of course not,” he says, his voice rising to emphasize his point.

  But it’s too late.

  “If I weren’t pregnant, would you propose to me?” I ask, searching his eyes to find out the truth.

  Jasper answers without delay. “I would marry you in a heartbeat.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking, Jasper,” I reply softly.

  I know what his answer is going to be, even before he replies.

  “Ava, I love you. Whether we get married today, tomorrow, or in the next five years, I want to be your husband. I just think now would be better timing.”

  That’s all the answer I need.

  “Then my answer is no,” I whisper, my heart breaking as the words leave my lips.

  “No?” Jasper gasps, taking a small step back. “But why? Don’t you love me enough to marry me?” he asks.

  “That’s the problem,” I sigh. “I love you too much, and marrying you when neither of us are ready will taint that love. Marrying me just because you think it’s the noble thing to do isn’t how I envisioned you proposing to me.”

  Once or twice, I may have gotten lost in the whole fantasy of if we were to get married, how would he do it. And this most definitely is not a scenario my romantic mind conjured up.

  “That’s not why I asked you to marry me,” Jasper says, but I can tell by the guilty look on his face its part of the reason why.

  “Would you have asked me to marry you if I wasn’t pregnant? If we came here to Seattle, and did all the things that we have, and experienced everything that we have, would you still be standing here, proposing to me?”

  I put it to him as simply as I can.

  Jasper lowers his chin, his hair dipping into his eyes as he tucks the ring safely into his pocket. He doesn’t reply and that’s okay, because I know what his answer would be. And so does he.

  The sight of the beautiful ring being tucked away is heartbreaking, and I wish I could accept it.

  But I just can’t.

  Jasper’s eyes look plagued and he opens his mouth, ready to defend his case, but the ringing of his phone interrupts him.

  Jasper reaches into his jacket pocket and retrieves it. “Hmm,” he mumbles, looking at me, asking if it would be okay to answer it, seeing as we’re kinda in the middle of something important.

  I nod and feel a migraine approaching after what just happened.

  “I don’t recognize the number,” he says, scrunching up his brow.

  His face contorts in rage within a second of answering the phone.

  “I don’t want to talk to you!”

  I can hear a loud, panicked voice yell at him through the phone, and then I witness all the color drain out of his face.

  “What? When?” he gasps.

  Jasper listens as he yanks at his messy hair, his eyes closed tight.

  “Where is she?” he asks, opening his overwhelmed eyes.

  I hear more yelling and make out a female voice.

  “Just answer the fucking question, Indie! Where is she?”

  Indie?

  “Fuck!” Jasper roars.

  He ends the call and looks at me, eyes frantic.

  “Jasper, what is it? What’s happened?” I ask in a quiet, scared voice.

  Jasper fists both hands through his hair and shuts his eyes tight.

  As he reopens them, I can see the pain flashing behind them. “It’s my mom.”

  “What about her?” I ask apprehensively.

  Jasper draws in a deep breath before he replies, “She’s in the hospital.”

  “Oh my God,” I gasp, covering my mouth with my hands. “Is she okay?”

  Jasper shakes his head and his eyes begin to fill with tears.

  I stalk over to him, latching onto his arm. “Jasper, what happened?”

  Jasper’s blue eyes search mine and a single tear rolls down his cheek.

  “She tried to kill herself.”

  “Jasper, please let me come with you!” I plead, following behind him as he charges down the long hallway to his hotel room.

  He barges through the door, heading straight for the bedroom.

  I watch as he stuffs his belongings into a black backpack and zips it up quickly.

  “Ava, no, please just stay here,” he says, throwing his backpack onto one shoulder.

  “But I want to be there for you,” I answer, standing in the bedroom doorway so he’ll stop and listen to me.

  “I know, and I love you so much for that. But no,” he replies, walking towards me, and shifting me out of the way gently.

  “Why not?” I plead, chasing after him as he rushes through the hotel, looking for anything he may have left behind.

  “How are you going to get back home? There will be no flights available at this time of the night,” I yell, trying to appeal to his rational side.

  He spins around to face me and he looks a mess. “I don’t know. I’ll drive, hitchhike, whatever, but I just need you to stay here, okay? Can you do that for me?”

  I nod, knowing this is a discussion not up for negotiation.

  I lower my eyes and can’t help the sinking feeling that he’s leaving me here because he knows I’m not welcome anywhere near his mom.

  “Hey, look at me,” he pleads, closing the gap between us in two steps.

  I raise my eyes to his and can’t help but frown.

  “I need you to be safe, Ava. In your condition, you can’t be gallivanting the streets with me, trying to find a way home.”

  I look away from him as tears are forming, because I know he’s right.

  He grabs my upper arms and squeezes lightly to get my attention. “I promise I’ll call you as soon as I get home and know what’s going on. Just promise you’ll wait for me to call,” he says desperately, searching my eyes.

  “Of course I will,” I reply, slightly confused.

  Why do I feel like there’s an ominous message behind his words?

  “I love you, Ava.”

  He bends down, kissing my forehead quickly. I watch his retreating form as he charges through the door, leaving me alone with my fears.

  The plane ride home was horrible. V tried to cheer me up, but all I could think of was Jasper.

  It’s been close to a day since I’ve heard from him. We left Seattle this morning and now that I’m back home, the urge to go see Jasper is overwhelming.

  But I don’t know what hospital his mom is at, and I made a promise to wait until he contacted me.

  So, here I sit, in my favorite armchair, which overlooks the neighborhood. The moon lights up the quiet street, but it may as well be black outside, as there is no light in my world until I speak to Jasper.

  “Are you okay, V?” I ask from outside her bathroom door.

  I hear her throw up yet again.

  Well, that answers my question.

  My phone chirps and I reach for it in my back pocket, thinking it’s Jasper, as I have yet to hear from him.

  But it’s not him.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Ava, this is Shelley from Doctor Hemming’s clinic. We have your results here. Did you want to make an appointment to see Doctor Hemming?”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. “Yes, please. Do you have anything available today?”

  I can hear keys clicking. “Sure. Does 3 p.m. suit you?”

  “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you.”

  I hung up, thankful I’m able to finally talk to Doctor Hemming, but also a little jaded since Jasper won’t be with me.

  “V,” I whisper from outside the door, knocking softly.

  She groans as she trudges over to the door, opening it, and leaning onto the frame for support.

  I recoil when I see her.

  “Oh V, you look like shit,” I say without thinking, taking in her pasty appearance and crazed hair.

/>   “Gee thanks,” she replies in a hoarse voice.

  “Sorry,” I reply, making a pained face.

  “Hey, good news. I’m seeing Doctor Hemming today at three. You still wanna come?” I ask, hopeful.

  “You bet your ass I do. I need some killer drugs. And pronto.”

  We arrive at the doctor’s office early, and I’m sitting in the world’s most uncomfortable chair reading a two year old copy of Cosmo.

  But I’m only half reading it, as I’m using the magazine as a veil, peeping over the top of it, trying to figure out who the receptionist is.

  I’ve seen her before and by the way she’s staring at me, she also recognizes me.

  “V. Who is that?” I whisper, using the magazine as a shield to cover my mouth.

  “Who’s who?” V yells, looking around the waiting room.

  “Sshh,” I hiss. “Her,” I whisper, indicating with my head to the receptionist sitting behind the glass screen.

  V looks over and shrugs. “Oh, who cares? Brad Pitt could be sitting near me and I couldn’t care less! What’s taking so long?” she groans, clutching her stomach.

  Thankfully the nurse comes out, announcing it’s my turn.

  Both V and I spring up and as I walk past the reception desk, I give the blonde pixie behind the screen one last look, but still nothing.

  The nurse takes us to an exam room and gets my vitals.

  Doctor Hemming has been my doctor since I was five years old, and even though it’s time for retirement, he still won’t hang up his white coat.

  “Hello, girls,” Doctor Hemming says, entering the room.

  He takes one look at V and frown lines furrow his brow.

  “Are you okay, Veronica? You look unwell,” he says, taking a seat behind his computer.

  “No, I’m pretty sure I’m dying. Please give me drugs to make me better,” V replies, slouching into her seat.

  Doctor Hemming’s mouth twitches. “Oh, well, let me go over Ava’s results first, and then we’ll get to you.”

  He opens my file and looks over the results with a big smile.

  “Everything looks great, Ava. No problems whatsoever. Maybe a little low in iron. I can prescribe you some iron tablets, or you can just eat a little more red meat, legumes, et cetera.”

  “Oh, that’s great news,” I say happily, clasping my hands in a thankful prayer. “Will it be okay to take iron tablets?” I ask.

  Doctor Hemming’s pen pauses, as he writes something in my file. He meets my eyes and raises an eyebrow, appearing utterly confused.

  So I explain. “You know, will it hurt the baby?”

  Doctor Hemming scrunches his brow. “I don’t mean to be rude, Ava, but what baby?”

  “My baby,” I answer, beginning to panic.

  V sits up in her chair and looks at me.

  Doctor Hemming shakes his head. “I’m not following, Ava.”

  My throat has gone dry and trying to swallow, feels close to impossible.

  “Doctor Hemming… I’m pregnant,” I say slowly.

  “You are?” he questions.

  The room begins closing in on me.

  “Yes. That’s what I’m here for. For you to tell me how the baby is going. How far along I am? That’s why I got the blood work,” I explain, on the verge of tears.

  Doctor Hemming clears his throat and quickly flicks through my file, adjusting his glasses. After a minute or so, he shakes his head.

  “Ava… I’m so sorry, but no, you’re not. When your blood was taken… you were not pregnant.”

  His words sound foreign, like he’s speaking to me in a different language. A horrible, deceitful language.

  I can’t speak.

  I can’t move.

  I can’t think.

  All I can hear on repeat are the words, “You were not pregnant.”

  Only when V stands up, do I snap out of my catatonic state.

  “There has to be some mistake. She did the test! It was positive, wasn’t it, Ava?” V demands, looking at me, beseeching me to make sense of what’s going on.

  I nod, thinking back to V’s words when we were both taking the tests.

  “Here, I’ll do one with you. I can be your pee buddy.”

  Holy shit.

  Oh…

  Fuck.

  “What’s the matter, Ava?” V asks, her voice quivering.

  “It was positive,” I whisper, looking up into my best friend’s face. “But it wasn’t my test.”

  “Whose test was it then?” she asks quickly.

  She knows the answer, but she needs me to confirm it, to make this all real.

  “Yours, V. The test was yours. You’re pregnant, not me,” I whisper sadly.

  “That’s impossible! Isn’t it?” V asks, looking at a confused Doctor Hemming.

  “How have you been feeling lately, Veronica?” he asks, pulling out a new piece of paper and writing something down.

  “Hungry, all the time. And just lately, I’ve been feeling sick to my stomach and I can’t keep anything down.”

  As soon as the words pass her lips, she slumps into the chair.

  “Fuck me dead. I’m pregnant! I’m motherfucking pregnant.”

  Doctor Hemming clears his throat, and both V and I snap back into reality.

  “I’m a little confused as to what’s going on, but I’m guessing, Ava, you believed you were pregnant, but Veronica is actually the pregnant one?”

  I nod, as I’m incapable of speech.

  “Well, Veronica, congratulations!”

  V scowls.

  “Or not,” he adds quickly.

  “How could this happen? This makes no sense. I haven’t had my period for weeks, months,” I state, my voice becoming hysterical. “How is that even possible? There has to be some mistake!” I cry, not wanting to believe him.

  Doctor Hemming steeples his fingers in front of him and speaks to me in a gentle voice. “I’ve gone over your file. It said you were in the hospital, beat up quite badly, and you banged your head?”

  I nod, cringing when reliving the memory of being beaten to a pulp by Harper.

  “Well, stress does amazing things to the body. Also, were you on medication to help manage the pain, and to help you sleep?”

  I nod again.

  “Your body has been through a lot of stress Ava, physically and emotionally. The body heals in its own way. You’re low in iron and a little underweight, sometimes these things just happen,” he explains sympathetically.

  This didn’t just happen.

  Did it?

  I feel hollow inside as I unconsciously rub my tummy, which is now only filled with Captain Crunch.

  V leaps up from her chair with her hand covering her mouth, rushing out the door. “I’m going to be sick!”

  I quickly stand to follow, but Doctor Hemming stops me. “Ava.”

  I turn to face him. “I’m very sorry. Judging by your reaction, you really wanted this baby.”

  I give him a small smile and excuse myself quickly, because only now do I realize how much I really did.

  “Do you want me to pee with you?” I ask V, as I unwrap the pregnancy test in her bathroom.

  I don’t fail to see the irony in this whole situation.

  V looks at me as she’s sitting on the toilet, cradling her brow.

  “I do not, seeing as the last time this happened, you got the results mixed up. Sheesh, lucky you didn’t become a midwife. Otherwise, there would be a lot of parents with God knows whose babies,” she says, only half joking.

  “I don’t know how many times I can say I’m sorry without it becoming annoying,” I reply, feeling like the world’s worst friend.

  “Not enough,” she replies, extending out her palm. “Give me the damn test already.”

  I do, but only because she asked so nicely.

  I decide to wait outside as I need the fresh air to clear my head.

  Sitting on the top step, I rest my elbows on my knees and support my chin with my steepl
ed fingers, deep in thought.

  How am I going to tell Jasper? This is going to break his heart, and I’m not sure if it’ll ever heal. He wanted this baby so much, and now, now I have to break the news that there is no baby. That I was mistaken.

  How could I have been so stupid? I shouldn’t have had those glasses of wine. My whole thinking was off course, and when I saw the test was positive, I didn’t stop to look whose test it actually was, because not once did I think V was pregnant.

  I fucked up.

  I have really fucked up this time.

  “So, I’m pregnant,” V says, taking a seat near me.

  Looking over at her, I give her a strained smile.

  “I’m sorry, V. I should have made sure the test was mine.” I hide behind my hair as I lower my head, ashamed of myself.

  “Ava, stop apologizing. I know you didn’t do this on purpose. You’re not one of those pseudocyesis women.”

  I nod, so grateful she isn’t chewing my ass out right now, as she has every right to.

  “Well, on the bright side, at least I know I don’t have worms. I was getting worried there for a while, seeing as I was eating and drinking anything within a five mile radius.”

  She’s about to continue when her mouth pops open.

  “What is it?” I ask, concerned.

  “OhMyGod, Ava, my baby is going to be a fat alcoholic!”

  “What?” I ask, scrunching up my face.

  “All I’ve wanted to do is eat and drink. I’ve craved it. But now I know it’s the baby whose been craving it. My baby is a total lush, with a serious addiction to peanut butter!”

  I can’t help the laugh that cackles out of me. I try to stop it by clamping my mouth shut, but it breaks free and I just go with it.

  Soon after my outburst, V is cackling along with me.

  V’s neighbor strolls past, walking her poodle, Marcia, and she quickens her step when she sees us rolling around in fits of laughter, with tears spilling down our cheeks for no apparent reason.

  The more we try to stop ourselves, the more we laugh.

  But V and I both know these laughs are really tears in disguise.

  “Ava, honey, do you want dinner?” my mother asks as I try to creep up the stairs without detection.

  I fail.

  “Um, no, Mom, I’m fine. I’m just going to take a shower and go to bed,” I reply, looking at her as she pokes her head around the corner.