by Mia Kayla
He raised an eyebrow.
"Our friends just had a baby. They came here to visit and were all excited that we could finally meet Chase, and all you could do was rant and complain about how babies are so high maintenance. And seriously where the heck is your filter? Tact, Kent. Tact."
"Beth," he uttered calmly, which only infuriated me more. "When have you known me not to speak my mind?"
At that moment, I wanted to rip his eyes out. I stepped toward him, reached for the remote, and turned off the TV.
"I want to talk about this now," I said, staring at him expectantly.
"Talk about what?" he asked slowly, his face apprehensive. And then I knew that he knew what I wanted to discuss. He had to.
My hands clasped in front of me and calmed the nerves burning beneath the surface of my skin. "Talk about... having kids," I stuttered. "We never talked about it before, so maybe before I assume things...we should discuss this now."
That got his full attention. He shifted to a sitting position at the edge of the couch and rested his hands on his knees. With his pointer finger and thumb, he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes again. "We've been married for a little under two years, and you're twenty-five, Beth. We should not be having this conversation."
"But we've never had this conversation, Kent." My voice was shakier than I would have liked. I stared at his side profile, and my pulse slowed to a sluggish beat.
When I’d mentioned kids before, it was in passing. When I'd tease him lightly, saying, 'I hope our kids have your eyes', he'd just smile without a reply. But after today's display, I wondered if he ever wanted kids.
I had never thought in a million years that I would fall in love with the spoiled playboy he’d been before. Children, finances, and talks about what we wanted for our future would’ve happened in the dating phases, which never happened for us.
My hands trembled against my stomach. "Do you even see children in our future?" I whispered.
When his eyes flipped up to meet mine, I bit my cheek, afraid I was going to cry. The answer was in the torment of his eyes.
I held my breath. Seconds passed by, which seemed to last forever. I just stared into a sea of brown that usually comforted me, enlightened me, or made me laugh. Today, that chestnut brown was making me want to cry.
"I'm not ready to talk about this." His tone was firm, not to be argued with.
My stomach dropped to my toes, and my gaze fell to the floor. I stood shell-shocked in my spot until I felt warm hands encasing my waist. He lifted my chin to meet his eyes. "Your questions shocked me, okay? I'm just not ready to talk about this right now." He pulled me closer and tucked me into his hard chest. "Let’s go to bed. Just give me a little time, Beth."
Soft breaths escaped him onto my neck, and after a beat he kissed my temple tenderly. "Okay?" he pressed.
All of me wanted to talk about this now, but I bit my tongue instead.
"I'm not saying never to kids. I just need time to process belly buttons and baby acne. Time...Can you give me that?"
I sighed, though the tightness in my shoulders did not let up.
Time? Yeah, I could give him that.
I nodded and buried my head further into his shirt, taking in the masculine scent of my man.
Marriage was forever, so I could give him a little more time.
Chapter 4
Beth:
I sat at the edge of the bathtub, gripping the piece of plastic between my fingertips. A sheen of sweat broke out on my brow and I stared, unblinking. Life must be playing some big grand trick on me.
Two pink lines. Not one. But two.
My hands shook as I held out the pregnancy test, unbelieving how my life from this moment forward would be irrevocably changed.
A little embryo was growing inside of me.
Embryo. Little Em.
I exhaled a shaky sigh then shook my head, realizing that I had already nicknamed the little baby.
I wouldn't believe it if I didn't have three other pink sticks scattered at my feet, each revealing two pink lines, the white plastic a large contrast to the black marble floor. The pink popped out like an accessory against a dark dress, bright and pretty.
But this wasn't a happy, jolly moment. Especially since Kent and I hadn't talked seriously about children. It had been at least three weeks since our dinner with Caroline and Jeff and we hadn’t broached the subject yet. I had assumed I had a couple of years before I was barefoot and pregnant.
I was never late. Ever. In the back of my mind, I had known something was off. At first, I thought it was just bad gas, but that gut-wrenching premonition only intensified every day after my little friend hadn't paid me a visit. I’d been in denial, but when my monthly friend hadn't made an appearance, I’d ran to the drugstore down the street to purchase a three-pack of pregnancy tests.
Why couldn't the manufacturers have made it yellow? Why pink? Pink automatically meant girl. Why not blue? At least yellow was a more neutral color.
Heat formed behind my eyes, an indicator that I was going to cry any minute. I had seen this in our future, but I’d thought it would be a planned event, when we’d both decided to start a family. I'd be lying if I wasn't scared out of my mind to tell him.
I tried to think back. It had to have been when we’d made love passionately in his car without protection. So in actuality, this was his fault. That was the only time I could recall that we hadn’t used a condom.
I shook my head. His fault?
I hadn’t exactly denied hopping on board with his lunch time plans. He and his horny self had impregnated me, because after Caroline had come over, I swore he'd stocked up on condoms. If he could’ve slipped one condom over another condom, double bagging, I knew he would have.
Kent's voice echoed from the foyer, and I jumped up from where I sat on the side of the tub. My heart leaped into my throat, forcing me to a standing position.
He was already home.
Gathering my display of pregnancy tests from the floor, I opened my drawer on my side of the sink and stuffed the tests inside.
When he jiggled the double doors to our bathroom, I rushed to open it. My face flushed red and pure panic tore through me as I looked into his unknowing eyes.
"What's wrong?"
One look from my face and he knew something was off.
"Nothing. Why do you think something's wrong?" My tone hitched up an octave higher as sweat formed behind the back of my neck. I was experiencing my first hot flash.
He glanced behind me, over my head. "Is someone in there?"
I realized I still had the door slightly ajar and was peeping through the crack. I threw the door open. "No one." My arms flew out wide as though I was about to take flight, in a dramatic effect, and he furrowed his eyebrow.
Yes, his wife was hormonal and a tad bit crazy.
He walked through the door, turned around, and stalked inside. A dizzying current raced through my body, making me feel lightheaded.
He reached for my arm and narrowed his eyes. "What's the matter?"
I hated how he was so attuned to how I was feeling, how he knew something was off, how he knew that I was lying.
"Nothing. Why?" I only had a real life human, the size of a pea, growing inside of me. No, nothing was wrong at all. Everything was as normal as it could be.
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply through my nose as the dizzying current heightened, spreading to the pit of my stomach, causing me to stagger.
"Beth!"
My eyes flew open and, in the next second, I sprinted toward the toilet, dropped to my knees, and clung to the seat.
"Fuck!" Kent's voice boomed in the background. He rushed toward me and held back my hair while my lunch landed in the toilet.
My stomach gurgled and another round of hurling occurred.
"You're okay." Kent rubbed my back in a continuous motion. "You're fine. Let it out, baby."
After a few more moments of uncontrollable dry heaving, I rested
my head against the seat. Super gross, but I didn't care. My body was exhausted, as though a truck had rammed against me, reversed, and decided to run me over again.
The next thing I knew, Kent had wiped my mouth with a washcloth. He lifted me from the ground, his hands underneath my knees. "Up, beautiful."
"Stinky not beautiful." My voice was soft as a whisper against his skin. My hands were clammy against his neck.
"Stinky...yes, and definitely beautiful."
He gracefully guided me into bed and tucked me in. All I wanted to do was sleep until tomorrow, even though it was barely after five in the evening.
It was okay. Dinner was the last thing on my mind.
But then four words from Kent had me popping out of bed where I lost my equilibrium, almost causing me to go cross-eyed.
"I'm calling the doctor."
"No!"
With his phone in his hand, he glanced at me, giving me a look.
"Stop." I pushed the blanket off my legs and stood when he didn't hang up the phone.
"Lie down. You're sick." He ignored me and started speaking into the receiver. "Dr. Ramada please. This is Kent Plack."
I swayed toward him and grabbed the cell out of his hands.
His eyes went wide, which they should have, given my crazy antics and record fast actions. He retrieved the phone from my fingers. "Beth, what's your issue? I know you hate doctors, but really." He pressed his lips together and placed the phone back on his ear. "Yes. Hi, Doctor. I need to make an appointment for Beth." He turned the other way, ignoring my protests.
If I went to the doctor, Kent would find out anyway. Any tests would prove one thing——I was pregnant. In a couple of months, it would be more obvious. I couldn’t walk around with an oversized shirt for nine months, hiding my belly.
"Yes, we'll be able to make a seven o'clock appointment."
I wish there was a better way to tell him, but there was no other way to get it out.
"Stop. Kent." I swallowed. "I'm not sick. I'm pregnant."
His face turned to me in slow motion. The phone dropped from his hands, and though we had carpet, the thud against the floor echoed through the room. His mouth slipped slightly ajar. His eyes blinked rapidly, which was the only part of him that was moving. I wondered if he was even breathing, if he’d even heard me.
"What?" His voice was barely audible.
"Congratulations, I'm pregnant." I smiled my goofy smile. The one I smiled when I was nervous. "Don't worry, I'll take care of falling belly buttons."
I decided to make light of an unplanned event. Maybe I could’ve lightened the blow. Either way, I didn't know what I was thinking. It didn't work.
His brow furrowed and he dropped his head, staring at his hands. "How did this happen?" His gaze clouded, going distant.
He sat there for a good five minutes, just muttering to himself, then he said, "I don't get it."
"Well you see, girls...have a vagina and boys have a penis..."
"Stop. This is not the time." His hands briefly clenched and released. "Did you do this? Did you do this on purpose?" he whispered, lifting his head to meet mine. His eyes narrowed with a tinge of suspicion.
I blinked and tried to see if I had heard him right. When he didn't burst out laughing, my neck tensed.
Oh heck no. He didn't just go there. The sleeves were up and the gloves were on.
"No." My response was automatic. It was the truth.
"You joked making holes in the condom just last week." He tore his gaze from mine, stood, and stalked to the other side of the room. "And after seeing Caroline and Chase. The talk about having kids." He walked back toward me. "We hadn't decided yet, we haven't talked things out. I told you I wanted to wait. How could this happen?"
I let him run his mouth, so I could throw the fact that he had taken me without a condom in his car.
"Well, I suggest you always use a condom before you whip it out." There was a bitter edge to my tone.
"I always do," he insisted.
I crossed my arms over my chest. "I don't think pulling out and praying in your car worked."
Instantly, he stilled and the color drained from his face. Then realization set in. His eyes closed and more silence. The air conditioner was blasting on high in the background, drowning out my heartbeat pounding in my ears. The quiet was killing me and I hugged my middle, trying to keep myself together.
The anger in me slowly dissipated, as I wanted him to see reason. "I know this isn't planned, but it's here, okay?” My voice softened as I spoke. “I didn't do this on purpose, and I'm just as surprised as you. I wasn't ready, either. Not now at least. And I would never force your hand. But I truly believe everything happens for a reason."
"This is bullshit." His words were harsh, slapping me in the face. He shook his head and stomped to the kitchen.
I followed behind him, on the verge of hyperventilating as I watched his retreating back. Was he leaving me?
"Where are you going?" My tone turned frantic, my mouth going dry.
He pivoted toward me, his eyes wild. "Shit if I know. Out. To think. I don't know if I can do this." The next thing I knew, he grabbed his jacket off the stool and stormed out the door, leaving me a heaping, hormonal mess.
His words echoed in my ears as the door shut behind him.
Then the tremors took over my body as I gripped the nearest stool for support.
What did he need to think about? The baby? Us? Us being together?
How had such a normal, loving relationship gone to shit in a matter of minutes?
I took slow breaths to calm my raging pulse as I closed my eyes to steady myself, but it wasn't working. And that's when the first of my tears burst from my eyes, coursed down my cheeks, and rolled down my face. This was supposed to be a moment of joy. Collapsing to the floor, I cried for my baby and the havoc that was raining on his or her innocent life. I cried for Kent and my future, which wasn't certain. I cried for my lost happy moment.
Then I trudged to the couch and dropped against the cushions in the fetal position, hugging my stomach and the living, breathing baby inside of me. I didn't know when I gave into exhaustion, but it hit and I fell asleep, alone, on the couch, not knowing what was going to happen tomorrow.
Kent:
I gripped the empty glass of whiskey between my hands, seeing nothing and feeling nothing. That was one of the points of alcohol, wasn't it? To forget, even for just a little while. Forget about our fight and forget that my life was about to get flipped upside down. But even if I was dead, I’d never forget that look on her face as I stormed out on her.
The cold from the glass spread through my fingertips, matching my insides that were chilled with anxiety. I had told my wife that I needed to think things through. But I didn't. Instead, I had spent the last few hours sitting alone at a bar and drinking myself to numbness. I hadn't done that since before we'd gotten married.
I had forgotten about taking Beth in my car without a condom. How could I have been so stupid and careless?
I pinched the bridge of my nose and reminded myself to breathe. Kids? What did I know about having or taking care of kids? Our lives would be forever changed, and I wasn't sure that's what I wanted. I loved our life together as it was. I wasn't accustomed to change. I had never done well with the unknown before.
I pounded my glass onto the bar. "Shit!"
The patrons from the room glanced in my direction. My stare cut through them until they tore their gazes away. People needed to mind their own damn business.
I glanced at my watch. It was two in the morning, and it had been over an hour and a half since my last drink. Work tomorrow was going to be painful.
My eyes scanned the area, taking in a man in the corner that would surely take the woman flirting with him home tonight. At the other end of the bar, a man was out stone cold from one too many drinks. I was surprised management hadn't kicked him out yet.
I'd been at this fine establishment many times in my former life, and
I knew they didn't like sloppy drunks. They enjoyed customers that maintained composure, had fun, but most of all, paid well.
Standing, I threw some dollars on the counter. I'd had enough. The more time that passed sitting at this bar, the more old memories of my former life pushed to the surface——a life filled with vices only to fill a void of loneliness. That was a life I didn't miss.
It was time to go home.
I exited the bar and jumped into my car as thoughts raced through my head. What an asshole move——to storm out of the house right when she revealed she was pregnant. I hadn't contemplated my reactions, I just reacted, which was the story of my life. I always acted on impulse. It was a quality I couldn't shake, and that's why I needed to leave. I didn't want to flip out on her any further, or say something that I wouldn't be able to take back later.
The drive took no more than ten minutes and before I stepped into our place, I dropped my head and pinched the bridge of my nose to calm my racing thoughts. I hoped she wasn't awake. This was one time where I didn't have any of the answers and it was too damn early in the morning to start a full on fight.
All I knew was that I'd have to deal with everything one at a time. But not tonight.
When I flipped on the lights, my eyes zoned in on Beth curled up in a ball on the couch. Guilt rose within me, the type of guilt I couldn't shove down.
Her hair was splayed across her cheeks and both her hands clasped together against the side of her face, a barrier to the cushions. It was like a sucker punch to the gut, realizing that I had just upped and left her. I came closer and watched the slow rise and fall of her chest. A thickness formed in the back of my throat, making it difficult to swallow. She was sleeping soundly, probably bone tired from waiting for me.
She looked like an angel.
With the back of my hand, I lightly stroked the side of her cheek, needing to feel the softness of her skin. "I'm sorry," I whispered.
She was an angel. My angel.
And I was the devil, tearing this angel apart.
I brushed her hair away from her face. She seemed peacefully asleep, but I knew she was anything but. She had been crying. I could tell by the puffiness of her eyes and the redness in her cheeks.