by G. Bailey
"Andre, yours?" he asks. Andre's voice is deep and sounds so much more seductive outside the club.
"Ellie," I say, and he smiles before he presses a gentle kiss on my lips. The man can kiss, that’s for sure.
"Make your choice, Ellie," he says as he moves back. I choose to get into the taxi.
32
Ellie
Present day . . .
“Is that? Am I?" I mumble out as Liz pulls the little white stick out of my shaky hands. I can’t even say the word that is spelt out on the stick.
"You're pregnant," she says with a shake of her head. Pregnant.
I’m pregnant.
"Holy ducks," I say and stand up. I can't be pregnant. Well, I can, but I can’t believe the first time I have crazy, wild sex with a stranger I end up pregnant. I knew it was too good to be true, no way did I get lucky enough to have the perfect night and walk away scot free. We used protection, so how the hell did this happen?
I guess I know condoms are not 100% effective, but I still can’t believe it. The word ‘pregnant’ keeps running around my mind.
We had sex in a hotel, and I snuck out when he was in the shower the next morning. I can't say it wasn't a good night, as it was, but that was three months ago. I haven't seen him since or even tried to look for him. Now, I'm having his child, and my life is sounding like something out of a bad TV program.
This cannot be happening.
"First thing, first," Liz says putting the stick down on the bathroom sink and coming over to me. She places her hands on my shoulders, and I look up at her eyes. Her blue eyes just remind me of Andre’s. My baby might have his eyes.
My baby, that’s a weird thought that fills me with tiny flutters of hope and an unexpected amount of love. I’m having a baby, I think, as my hand moves to my stomach. I see Liz’s eyes watch my movement.
"Do you want this baby?" she asks me gently. I know why she is asking. My life is far from perfect, and it’s the worst time in my life to be having a baby.
My life is in ruins at the moment. My divorce went through fine, but my ex-husband still found a way to screw me over. I let him have the money we had saved and the expensive cars, if I could have the house. The house I received in the divorce was burnt down last week. The firefighters and police believe it was done on purpose, and they arrested my ex. I doubt they will be able to press charges, my ex-husband is a lawyer after all. If he set fire to my house when I was out, he would have planned everything. Every detail would be gone over to make sure he couldn't get caught. He also cancelled the house insurance before I could change the name on it. The bastard just smiled at me as he was taken in for questioning, and our eyes met across the police station. At least, he is in my past now. I didn’t even want to keep the house, I was going to just sell it, but all the things I had in the house meant a lot to me. The childhood pictures and letters I had from my nan were lost. The only thing that I was glad got burnt was my wedding dress.
So, now, I have no money, no home, and as I used to work in accounts at my ex-husband’s firm, I have no job.
Being pregnant is just the icing on the bloody cake.
I can’t help the worry that takes over, how am I going to look after a baby?
I'm currently sleeping on Liz's sofa in her studio apartment. It's not ideal, but I really don't have anywhere else to go. I have applied for a few jobs this week, but they would be mad to offer me a job now that I'm pregnant.
I don't have any family to turn to, they live in Scotland, and I live in York. They would lose their minds if they found out I'm pregnant and wouldn’t help me.
They still aren't talking to me because I got a divorce from who they thought was the perfect man. When I told them that I found him fucking his secretary over his desk, they said it was just a misunderstanding. They suggested couple’s therapy. I told them, and my ex-husband, where they could shove the therapy.
So yeah, I can’t turn to them for help. I need to stand on my own two feet, or however that saying goes.
No matter how difficult this may be–how the chances are that I’m going to be on my own bringing up a child–I’m still doing this.
I’m having a baby.
"Yes," I say the word and know it's completely true. I've always wanted children, and I could never abort this child. Adoption is out of the question as well. I couldn't do it, hands up to the mums that can, but I couldn't. This is not how I wanted my first pregnancy to be, but you can’t plan life.
"We will work something out," Liz says drawing my gaze to her as she stands with her hands on her hips staring at my stomach.
"There's no ‘we’ in this Liz, I will have to find somewhere to live and a job," I say as I walk away from her and stare at myself in the mirror.
I don't look pregnant; my stomach is flat in the skinny jeans and white top I'm wearing. It’s hard to believe there is a little baby in there, but one glance at the seven white sticks in the sink tell another story. If something says anything seven times, there is no avoiding it.
The only reason I even thought I might be pregnant was because of my lack of periods. I haven't been sick or anything. The only difference is my tiredness, I can’t stop falling asleep everywhere. I’m lucky I’m not working, I guess, but I remember the small amount in my bank account, and I know I would rather be working.
Holy ducks, how am I going to do this?
My brown eyes flash back at me in the mirror, and I force myself to hold my chin up as I pull out my phone. I call my doctor’s and get an appointment, I need to start being responsible. Liz doesn’t say anything as I manage to get an appointment tomorrow, due to a cancellation. At least, I don’t have to wait long to start sorting things out.
"I'm with you on this," Liz says, and I turn my head to smile at her. I have known Liz for what seems like forever. We went to the same middle school and high school. Then, we went to the same university, and we stuck by each other’s side. I should have listened to her when she told me she didn’t like my ex-husband. I still remember how happy it made her when I told her I was leaving him. Liz is a good friend, she stuck around when a lot of others didn’t, and I won’t forget that. I will always be there for her.
“Look this is a three-month baby, it’s on some mum’s website,” Liz offers me her phone, and there’s a little picture of a fetus. It kind of looks like a baby, maybe a small alien one. There’s a load of information underneath the picture, and I remind myself to read it all later on my own phone. I hand the phone back to Liz, who smiles.
"I need to find him, the baby’s dad," I say, and she nods in understanding.
"He could be an asshole who wants nothing to do with you or the baby, you okay with that?" she asks. I hope he isn't, but she does make a fair point, I don't know anything about the man other than his name and how good he is in bed. I don’t even know his last name, I mentally cringe at how bad that makes me sound.
"Let’s just hope he isn't," I say, and my hand slides down to my flat stomach. It's hard to believe there is a baby growing in there.
My baby.