by Ann Stewart
“I need time to figure things out. I wish you’d put everything on hold and let me get my life in order. What you’re doing, to me, to us, isn’t healthy.”
“How much time, Elyssa?” Alex’s loud voice booms, causing the table to silence.
Oliver clears his throat, faking a cough, “Pathetic.”
Shit. Seriously Oliver?? I thought you were smarter than this. I guess he really does have a death wish.
Alex stands, scraping his chair along the floor causing it to nearly collapse behind him. “You have something to say, Prescott? Say it, because you’re two fucking seconds away from me jumping over this table.” Oliver doesn’t even budge, only taking a second to look between me and Alex. “Look at me, asshole, not her. This…” Alex gestures between the two of us. “…is none of your business.”
If he didn’t already know, which I’m sure he had some inkling, Alex has left Oliver no doubt that he and I were together. That’s right. Were. If I think of us as past tense, then it’s easier to accept. Right?
Instead of standing and engaging Alex in a heated faceoff, Oliver stays calm taking time to wipe off his lips with his napkin and smirk at Alex before responding. “Well, douche bag, I’m looking at her the same way you are. Is there something I should know?” He smiles and even I want to slap the look off his face. Alex practically snarls, clenching his fists at his side. “We are having a lovely Thanksgiving dinner. I didn’t realize that your,” Oliver points between the two of us, “conversation was private considering the venue. I was simply adding my two cents.”
Sensing Alex’s next move, I grab his wrist and pull him down to his now upright chair. Luckily, he also doesn’t budge, because I have no idea how to deflate this awkwardly intense situation. Another wave of nausea rolls over me. I can feel the moisture on my skin. Of course Trevor is grinning with amusement as he continues to shovel piles and piles of mashed potatoes into his eager mouth. Ugh mashed potatoes! Travis, on the other hand, looks at Alex with an expression that can only be described as pity.
“You two need to cut this out,” I close my eyes and swallow the overwhelming need to purge. Right then I lose the battle and make a hasty retreat. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom and get away from all this unnecessary drama.” I toss my napkin on the table and rush to the stairs. I refuse to have another confrontation tonight and decide the best place to hide is Rachel’s bathroom upstairs.
I almost don’t make it. The instant I’m through the doors, I’m down on my knees, bent over the porcelain bowl. My stomach twists as I heave, holding my hair aside. What did I say about not needing Alex right now? Oh right, because he complicates things and I’m so self-sufficient; right…I don’t need him. But I’m not going to lie to myself again. Having someone right now to help me through this would be comforting. I know, I know…wishy-washy Elyssa.
After I’ve expelled the entire contents of my belly, I sit on the floor and rest my back against the cool side of Rachel’s tub. The smooth surface gives an odd sense of relief as I close my eyes and fight back the incessant nausea. It takes a minute, but I finally feel almost back to normal. Well, normal is debatable considering I still have my eyes closed, head resting against my sister’s bathtub.
But when I open my sand-filled eyes, I see something odd. Rachel is as close to me as my own appendage. Growing up, our monthly cycles were always on track. That was until a few months ago when I decided to get on the shot. Since then my periods have gradually become few and far between. Rachel didn’t want to get on the shot because she was worried about the common weight gain. I, on the other hand, just wanted a way of dealing with my heavy monthly visitor.
Which takes me back to the shock of finding her feminine products spread across her normally OCD clean floor. She would literally freak out and stuff it in the bottom drawer when she realized she hadn’t put the products away. So, as I sit here, my eyes focused on a small black box of tampons sitting next to the counter, I feel a creeping sensation crawling through my skin.
This can’t be possible. No, it is not possible.
I scrunch my eyes thinking of the last time I went to the doctor. I remember him saying that I’m supposed to get it every twelve weeks habitually to avoid any issues. One of the benefits of getting the shot was the simple fact there were no daily pills to take, which is what sold me since I can’t remember to take my multivitamins most of the time. Problem is, when you can’t remember your last visit, how are you supposed to remember when to schedule your next one.
I frantically search my pockets for my phone. I have never been so thankful for the genius who invented the Smartphone, or the other genius who programmed the app with the ability to track your appointments with the flick of your finger.
Seriously, thank God for modern technology, without it I would never be able to keep up with my body. I know it’s a bad sign when I’ve gone through several months without an appointment. I knew I should have stuck to having horrible cramps and God awful cycles. Shit. Shit. Shit. Looking down at the screen, I let out a small whimper.
I’m a month overdue for my next shot.
With so much going on in my life, I’ve been preoccupied. Besides, birth control was never really high on my priority list because I wasn’t having sex. Not until Alex came into my life. And since then, damn…I guess it’s true what they say. It’s all fun and games until you forget your damn OB/GYN appointment.
Time stood still for at least a minute and a half, until I was catapulted into an immediate panic attack. Breathe Ely, breathe. Both hands on my chest, my mind swirls with thoughts. Only once in my life have I ever had to worry about this. Cole. And we all know how that ended. I didn’t want the baby and didn’t know how to handle the “situation.” Cole didn’t know anything about it, yet unknowingly destroyed a small part of my soul. End of discussion.
No, I know there is no way I’m pregnant. I read the pamphlet. It said that I was like 99.99999 percent unlikely to get pregnant. Of course, it also stated IF I received my shots regularly.
Again, I look to my phone for answers. I search for my scheduled doctor’s appointment. It didn’t take long to find what might be my biggest pang of guilt to date. Fuck. Me. According to my trusty calendar, you know, the one that’s supposed to alert me when I have an appointment says that my next visit was supposed to have been Friday, October 19, 2012. Two weeks prior to the Friday I left for New York. The day Alex walked out of my life.
Still, there is no way. It’s stress. That’s all. Stress.
Not able to believe the “situation” I’ve put myself in, let alone with Alex, I animatedly shake my head back and forth while I continue to push back the possibility. It doesn’t matter. Alex and I weren’t together that often within the last couple of months. No shit, Sherlock! It only takes one time. Don’t you remember sex education! Am I really talking to myself right now?
I take a deep breath which thankfully represses the nausea and calm the tears welling in my eyes, but not the freak out that’s about to happen. What if I am pregnant? Can you imagine that conversation? “So Alex, I know I’ve been hot and cold with you, and I know how it must have seemed like I was using you when I went to New York and left you in the middle of the night. But, in that moment of insanity (because I have so many), while I was doped up on Benadryl, apparently you got me pregnant. Congratulations, you’re going to be a Dad!! Should I buy cigars now or later when we know the sex of the baby? You know, so I can get the right color and all.”
I laugh loudly unable to fight the growing unease. Mom, Dad, what am I going to do? I scrape my hands over my face. So many thoughts race through my head, none I care to discuss. Not without seeming crazier than I already feel. And even though I haven’t been acting appropriately, I now know what I need to do. I have to be a grownup and make grownup decisions. First things first; I need to get out of here and to a drug store to buy a test.
I pick myself off the floor and slink to the mirror and instantly roll my eyes. No on
e looks good after puking their insides out, but I look like Satan himself rolling out of bed, in hell. My skin blotchy from crying hysterically, my emerald green eyes bloodshot and puffy, and to make matters worse my normal glowing complexion is too pale to pass for a healthy person. Let alone a sane one.
I grip the counter loosely and take cleansing breaths in and out. I focus only on my chest rising and falling, trying to get my nerves under control before I leave this bathroom. I must look like a lunatic right now, but as soon as I step one foot out of this bathroom, they will all know something’s wrong. And right now, I don’t have the energy. Not, right now.
With a battered sigh, I wipe my eyes dry and round my shoulders before facing the madness awaiting me downstairs. I can do this. All I have to do is grab Oliver, say goodbye to everyone, skirt around my hasty retreat, and leave. Easy-peasy.
Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. I don’t get far into the hallway before I run into Alex sitting on the stairs, waiting for me. He’s always waiting for me. On stairs, no less. Sensing my approach, he glances behind him. He tilts his head in curiosity as I approach and sit next to him. That’s right, I sat next to him. Obviously he has something to say, something he feels I need to hear. Unfortunately, I’m assaulted with the smell of the amber liquid wafting from his small glass as I lay my head on his shoulder in defeat.
I know I told him to give me time and I’m being exceptionally selfish, but I need a moment of delusion; just a brief second where I can bask in the security and peace that being next to him affords me. I, however, am not so far in lala land that his drinking doesn’t bother me. “You shouldn’t drink,” I whisper, nuzzling myself closer against his shoulder.
Alex lifts the glass to his mouth, letting the last remnants of liquor pass through his tight lips. “It dulls the pain. It’s either I sit here and drink until I’m numb or I go out and bury myself in faceless women. You pick.”
I wince. The thought of Alex with anyone else is absolutely repulsive.
“I guess alcohol doesn’t seem so bad when you put it that way,” I whisper again, not wanting anyone downstairs to hear our conversation. He chuckles. I guess he found that funny, but I’m completely serious. I’ll apologize to Alex’s liver later after I’ve figured out what to do with our situation. I continue to lean against him, fighting the need to wrap my arms around his bicep and cling to him for comfort.
With Oliver’s boisterous laugh echoing through the entry way of the dining room, I shrink even further into Alex. I know I should say something, anything, that will help ease some of this tension, but I have no words. Instead, Alex breaks our silence. “You have to know how much I can’t stand that he’s here. Honestly Hart, I’m not sure what hurts more…the month you ignored me or,” Alex lifts his hand pointing to the dining room, “you trying to replace me with that dick.”
I remain quiet. There are no words that can express how sorry I am that I’ve ruined this man I adore. With every fiber of my soul, I know he is hurting, and it crushes me deep. Knowing my own soul has already been broken, along with my heart, I decide there is nothing left to shatter and do exactly the opposite of what my mind is screaming at me not to do. And even though his bicep tenses at the intimate contact, I hook my arm through his, close my eyes, rest against him with my full weight and trust we will make it out the other end. Wherever that may be.
We sit for several minutes before I feel his lips against my forehead and hear the sigh. After everything we’ve gone through, everything I’ve put him through, he’s still too kind for his own good. One minute I’m giving into my heart and the next pushing him away. God, how unfair I’ve been…how unfair I’m being. Constantly giving into my needs regardless of how he’s feeling.
Alex kisses my hair and inhales my scent before resting his cheek against the top of my head. “I like you like this.”
“Like what?” I mumble.
“Needing me…it’s nice to feel like you want me here.” I clutch his arm tighter, continuing to ignore the pain radiating in my chest. If you only knew how much I do need you.
The sound of a throat being cleared causes my eyes to shoot open, ending my brief moment of tranquility. Standing at the foot of the stairs with his hands tucked deep inside his pockets, Oliver rocks back and forth. “You were taking so long in the bathroom; I figured I would check on you.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling so good.” I remove my arm from Alex’s grasp and straighten myself before standing. Alex bows his head, looking at his empty glass while I move myself away from him.
Holding out his hand, Oliver helps me descend the last few steps between us. “You ready to go?”
Grasping my arm I feel myself tugged backwards, Alex glaring at Oliver. “You can leave on your own. You know where the door is.” He points towards the door with his chin, still clutching my elbow.
“We came together.” Oliver takes a step closer. “We leave together.”
“Why are you pushing it, Prescott?” I haven’t moved since the original tug, and can feel Alex’s body against my side. His fingers firmly grip my arm, not out of anger, but more out of desperation. His hand is trembling against my skin.
“Why don’t you ask Elyssa what she wants?” Oliver takes another step. Both men are sandwiching me, neither backing down.
I stare up at both of them and realize that I’m the only one that can defuse the situation. Again. But, I can’t, no I won’t be in the middle of this feud. Not again, not tonight. And because I still feel nauseous and am in no mood to deal with their brooding behavior, I push past Oliver, leaving both men on the stairs.
“What I want is for both of you to grow up and stop this competition! I am not some prize in a stupid game between the two of you.” Oliver’s eyes widen in shock as Alex winces. “I feel like crap. What I want is to go home, which entails me taking you home.” I point to Oliver. My emotions get the best of me as I watch Alex sink back to sit on the stairs. Once again, I’m overcome with the guilt. But this time, the guilt will have to stay, because I can’t deal with this right now.
With tears threatening to brim over, I retreat to the dining area. Trevor and Travis are chatting with Bryan when Rachel returns from the kitchen to clear the table. All three men stand in unison to help her. “Rach, I feel like crap. Do you need me to help clean up?”
Rachel walks towards me placing the back of her hand against my forehead after disposing the dishes on the table. “You’re not running a fever, but you definitely feel clammy. Was it the food?” All three men snap their heads in my direction.
No Rach, I’m impregnated by the guy you invited to Thanksgiving dinner. You know…the same guy who used his penis as a commodity and fucked his way up the corporate ladder. “No Rach. I haven’t been feeling well for a few days now. I just want to go home and rest.”
“Do you need to go to the urgent care? I’ll take you.” With nothing but concern on her face, Rachel brings me into a hug, Bryan only inches away strokes my back in comfort. I return the gesture and squeeze her tightly wishing I could talk to her about what is really going on. What I wouldn’t give to tell her about Arianna and confess how much the hatred for that woman runs deep within me now. I wish we could both make voodoo dolls and stab little pins into her skull and chest in hopes of causing her as much pain as she has caused me. Oh, and I’d mention somewhere in that lovely story that I am pretty sure I’m pregnant.
“Don’t worry; I’m sure all I need is a little rest. I’m going to head home if you don’t need me.” Releasing me, Rachel nods her head making me promise to call her if I need anything.
Only a few more goodbyes and I can get out of here and get the test. I peek over at Oliver and nod towards the door. Thankfully, he takes the hint and heads off in that direction. He must have already said his goodbyes because no one even notices that he left the room. Or at least they don’t say anything more about him.
Both Travis and Trevor pull me tight against them, the latter keeping me in an embrace longer than
necessary. In his sexy Trevor voice he proceeds to tell me he knows how to cheer me up from this disastrous day. “Every Friday night is Ladies Night at work. It’s something new the club is trying, to bring in more people. It would mean the world to me, and my boss,” he pauses eyeing Alex as he makes his presence known by a tight growl, “if you could let your friends know and, you know, maybe come one night. Maybe even bring some fliers to work?”
When Trevor is done with his very effective persuasion tactics, he finally releases me. I look up at him and cock my head. That was a little too weird. One, why the long embrace? I don’t know Trevor that well, but I wouldn’t have expected him to be so over affectionate. And really, all he had to do was ask. Why the long drawn out promotion? Who am I kidding; I know the answer without even having to think twice. Alex. Something’s off between the two of them, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. And two, did Alex just growl?
“I don’t know, Trevor…” Pushing out his bottom lip, he begins to beg silently.
“Ugh…fine! But you owe me!” He brings me into another bear hug, squeezing all the air out of my lungs.
“Thank you! You are the most wonderful woman I know! I’d ask Rachel, but Bryan might castrate me!” he chuckles pointing towards my sister.
“Hey, I’m technically not married yet! I can still go out and party like a rock star,” Rachel jokes from the end of the table as she cuts the rest of the turkey up into slices for packaging.
Bryan comes up from behind her, nestling into her neck as he places kisses on her nape and cheek. “Don’t you even think about it. I’m the only one that gets to see these moves.” Rachel giggles in delight.