by Louise Bay
“Just sleepy. I feel like I could sleep for days.” The urge to kneel beside her and ask her to marry me right then was huge. She filled up my heart. She looked so relaxed and sexy, lying there with her hair fanned across the pillow in the bed that we now shared, her eyes still heavy with sleep. I took a breath, trying to reason with myself. I couldn’t, not yet. I needed to give her a little more time. Convincing her to move in with me was one thing, but I wanted her to say yes without hesitation when I asked her to be my wife.
“How come you’re so sleepy? You pregnant?” I laughed, and Ashleigh rolled her eyes.
“Don’t be crazy. You kept me up most of the night, if you remember.”
I did remember. The sex had been unforgettable.
I sidled into the bathroom, trying to look as if I wasn’t concealing where the ring was stashed. When Ashleigh wasn’t around, I could carry the ring on me. It wasn’t the most security conscious of ideas but better that than her finding it and going into meltdown. When we were together, I needed to stash it somewhere.
I turned on the shower and stripped off my clothes, holding the box in my hand while looking around the bathroom for a hiding place. The door handle jangled. “Luke?”
Shit, I’d locked the door so she didn’t walk in on me while I was holding the ring. “Hang on.” I dove into the cupboard that held all the clean laundry and buried the box at the bottom of a pile of towels. I’d have to think of a better spot later. I quickly shut the cupboard, spun round and unlocked the door. “Hi.”
Ashleigh knitted her eyebrows together. “Er, hi. I was just wondering if you wanted company, but if you’d rather—”
“Of course I want company.” I pulled her inside, closed the door and started to undress her.
“You locked the door,” she said as she held her hands above her head as I stripped off her tee.
“Force of habit.” I buried my head in her neck and pushed her against the wall. It was part desire to distract her and part my reaction to her naked body.
“You’re sweaty,” she said.
“Hence the shower.” I pulled away from her and led her into the shower.
“I like it.”
“You do?”
She nodded.
“But you always smell so . . . like summer or home or—”
“You smell like you’re mine.”
“Well, that’s good, because I am.”
She wrapped her legs around me as I lifted her and walked under the spray.
Ashleigh
“That one, you can tell by the way he walks,” Haven said, gesturing at a guy on the other side of the Mexican restaurant. It was dark and loud, but not so much so that the people at the tables surrounding us hadn’t noticed Haven pointing.
“You can’t talk about another man’s cock when you’re carrying your husband’s baby.”
“Well, apparently I can because I just did. I’m just saying, you can tell. Everything about a man starts with the size of his penis. I’m thinking of writing an article about it.”
Part of me was pleased to be out with Haven, but the other part, the part I had a hard time allowing to come to the surface, wanted to spend all my time with Luke. But he was working late tonight, so I wasn’t technically giving up time with him. Jesus, when had I become that girl? “I’m going to the loo.”
“Again? You just went. I have penises to discuss with you.”
“What are you, the toilet police? And if you insist on talking about penises, I’m going to start telling you about your brother’s.” I gave her a stern look as I headed off to the bathroom, pulling out my phone to see if Luke had messaged me. I grinned as I saw the symbol at the top of the screen confirming he had.
Luke: I’ll be home by ten. Hope you’re having fun.
Ashleigh: I won’t be long after you. The hormones are making Haven crazy.
As soon as I came out of the stall, my phone pinged again.
Luke: It’s nothing to do with the hormones. I miss you.
Living together these past few weeks had been going better than I’d expected. I didn’t feel the pressure for everything to be perfect the way that I’d thought I would. Everything felt so natural between us, as if we’d been a couple forever.
I went back to the table with more enthusiasm than I’d had when I left. I hoped Haven was done talking about cock.
“Those bathrooms smell of some disgusting air freshener. I hope what they serve up smells better,” I said, wrinkling my nose.
“The food is always good here.” Haven waved her hand toward the kitchen. “So how’s it going with Luke? Are you having the battle of the toilet seat?”
I grinned. “Nope. He’s good with putting the lid down.”
“He is?”
“It’s going well, actually. It doesn’t feel like the big adjustment I expected it to be.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t with Jake either. I guess when it’s right, it’s not hard work.”
“Maybe that’s it.” It felt right—as if we’d always lived together.
“You’ll be getting married next,” she said.
“As if. Luke isn’t the marrying kind. He’s already told me that.” I wasn’t exactly upset that Luke and I would never get married. More, I’d always seen marriage as part of my future—I’d just have to adjust my happy ever after. It was Luke I wanted. Not simply a husband.
“So you’ve talked about it?”
“Nope. He told me when he was talking about Emma wanting the big white dress.”
“Guys change their minds,” she offered.
“He was pretty clear. It broke him and Emma up, if you remember, and I wouldn’t place marriage over Luke. It’s a small compromise. I know he loves me.”
“It’s good to see you so happy. You have a little love glow about you.”
I grinned. I could barely stop smiling these days.
The waiter brought our food, and we clinked water glasses.
“Will you be my birthing partner?” She munched on a pepper. My stomach churned. The food wasn’t as good as it normally was. I couldn’t bring myself to eat much of anything. Haven wasn’t having the same problem.
“Jake will be your birthing partner, you crazy.”
“You know the best thing about being pregnant?”
Apart from the inability to keep on one subject for more than five seconds?
“No periods. The rest of it is terrible and terrifying. But at least I don’t have periods.”
I grinned then released the muscles in my cheeks as I checked the date on my phone. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a period. I must have mixed up my dates or my pills or something. I’d have to check when I got home. “What do you find terrifying? Having to give up your freedom?”
“Actually, not so much. More the responsibility. I want my kid to be a good person, but what happens if I fuck it up? Create a monster, or a serial killer? He or she might turn out to be a murderer.”
“It worries me that worries you.” I shook my head.
“You don’t think about it?”
“That I’m going to give birth to a serial killer? Not today or even this week, no. But then again, I’m not pregnant.” As I said the words, I started to fit together pieces of the last few weeks. The lethargy, the heightened sense of smell, the fact that food I normally loved wasn’t tasting so great—not to mention the distinct lack of my period. I couldn’t be, could I? I was on the pill and . . . I must be just sharing symptoms with Haven. I’d read that sometimes happened to close friends. At least, I thought I’d read it. I was probably coming down with something I’d picked up at the hospital. All this talk of Haven’s pregnancy was making me paranoid.
“I can’t wait for you and Luke to have kids. Say you won’t leave it too long. I want ours to be best friends. They can grow up together like we did.”
My heart swelled at the thought, but then I caught myself. “We’ve been living together for five seconds. We’re not about to get pregnant. And I’m
not sure Luke wants kids. He keeps saying how sorry he feels for Jake being a father so quickly.”
“Typical that he doesn’t feel sorry for me. You’ve not talked about kids with him?” Haven asked.
I shrugged. I did want children and not having them would be a far bigger compromise for me than not getting married. I shivered as, for a fleeting second, I considered the possibility of life without Luke. I was pretty sure that if Luke wanted kids, he would have said something by now.
And that’s why there was no way I could be pregnant. A pregnancy would destroy Luke and me, and force me to make a choice that I wasn’t willing to make.
“What do you mean? You don’t want to have my brother’s kids?”
“I don’t think he wants kids, so we’re not getting pregnant.” I’d not had time to think about this seriously since we’d been together. I loved him so much that what was important was being together. I’d never let my mind wander past that point.
“Has he actually said that he doesn’t want kids with you?”
“We’ve not discussed it. Are you crazy? Why would we be discussing things like that? I’m not ready to even think about it. And it’s pretty clear how Luke feels.”
Of course, I’d thought about it in the abstract. I knew I wanted to be a mother at some point. I also knew I wanted to be with Luke, and he had no interest in having children. I guess after being in love with a guy my whole life, somehow I’d not found time to think through the practicalities of actually being with him. Was it possible that he wasn’t going to be able to give me the life that I wanted? My stomach flipped as I realized that at some point I’d have to choose—become a mother or be with Luke. Although I hoped I had just gotten my dates mixed up, there was a possibility that I might have to choose sooner rather than later.
“How do you know if he’s never told you?”
“You know how he was with Emma. He doesn’t do the change thing very well. He wouldn’t even marry Emma, let alone have . . .”
“But we’re not talking about Luke and Emma. We’re talking Luke and you. I’m sure if you want kids, Luke will come round to the idea.”
My stomach rolled at the thought of having to convince Luke about what our future together would look like.
“I’m excited to be an unofficial aunt, though,” I said, trying to change the subject.
“Jake told me that he’ll be on baby duty as often as I want him to. So you and I can still go out like we did before. And I’m going to get a nanny so I can keep working.” Jake was a smart guy. He knew as well as I did that as soon as their baby arrived, Haven’s huge heart would explode, and she wouldn’t let her baby out of her sight. He just was clever enough not to try to tell her before she was ready to hear it.
“You don’t need to worry—you’ll be a wonderful mother.”
“You think?”
She’d be a great mom. “I know.” I hoped she’d have the opportunity to say those words back to me someday.
I stuffed the two pregnancy tests back into their box, put the box inside a grocery bag and put the bag into the metal container marked hazardous waste. I was in one of the disabled bathrooms on the ward, and I wasn’t sure I was ever going to be able to leave.
My training as a nurse told me that a false positive was much less likely than a false negative, which in itself wasn’t very likely. I was pregnant. It had taken me the whole day to work up the courage to take a test, but I’d thrown up this morning so there’d been no more putting it off.
I began to pace. I couldn’t have an abortion, I knew that much. But I’d seen Luke’s reaction when his sister had announced she was pregnant—he had been happy for her . . . and relieved it wasn’t him. He didn’t want this baby. For me, it was more complicated. It was a shock, but I also wanted to be a mother.
I ran through my options. I could tell Luke that I was pregnant and that I wanted to keep it and I didn’t want to lose him, which was the truth. He’d no doubt accept it on the surface, and we’d raise the child together, but he’d spend the rest of our lives resenting me. I loved him, and I didn’t want him unhappy. I couldn’t bear the thought that he might hate me or our life together. The alternative was to keep the pregnancy to myself for now, end things between us for some spurious reason and then, when a little time had passed and he had accepted that we were over, I could tell him about the baby and explain that I was going to bring the child up on my own. The latter option might just kill me, but it would protect Luke from the life that he’d never wanted with Emma. I couldn’t force that on him. Or my child.
I loved him too much to deny him the future he wanted.
Luke
“I need to talk to you,” Ashleigh said, hovering at the door to the living area.
Why did women always want to have a conversation when rugby was on? I reached for her to pull her onto my knee.
“I’m serious. Can we talk?” Her voice was wobbly. I glanced at her face to see if I could read what was going through her head.
“Can I just watch this conversion?” We were neck and neck with the All Blacks.
Ashleigh forced a smile, pushed off my lap and headed back into the bedroom, where she’d been most of the morning. Shit. I muted the TV and followed her. I found her sitting on the bed, her knees pulled to her chest, her eyes fixed to the floor. “I don’t think we’re going to work out.”
I laughed. “Is my rugby watching too much to bear?” I sat down next to her. She moved away from me.
“I’m serious. I think I’m going to move out. The tenant hasn’t moved into my place yet. I don’t think we’re going to work.” She stood.
Blood crashed against my ears. Was I hearing things? Was she trying to end things? “What the fuck? Are you serious? What happened?” I stood up and tried to get her to look at me, but she kept moving out of the way.
“Nothing happened. I think this is best.”
A suitcase was open on the bed, and she’d started to put clothes in it. What the fuck was going on? She’d been asleep last night when I got in, and she’d been a bit quiet today. What could have happened? My heart was beating so hard my entire body pulsed. The thought of being without her, even for a night, was too much.
“Are you mad I had to work late? Or that I’m watching rugby?”
She shook her head. “No, of course not.”
“But you love me. Why do you want to go? Ashleigh, please talk to me.”
“I just need to give us both some time.”
What the fuck did that mean? How could she possibly be changing her mind, now? Fury ran up my spine. I grabbed the suitcase off the bed and emptied her clothes onto the floor.
“Luke!”
“No, Ashleigh. You’re not going anywhere. That’s the deal. You and me, we’re together. We don’t leave each other. I don’t need time, but if you do, then you need to tell me why. I deserve that much.” My frustration made my voice louder than it should have been. I never wanted to shout at her, but she wasn’t talking to me.
She collapsed back on the bed, hands covering her face.
I took a deep breath. “Have you changed your mind about us?” I asked, lying beside her on the bed, trying to pry her hands away so she’d look at me. Maybe that way I’d be able to tell what the matter was. This had come so out of left field.
“I don’t know.”
A sharp stabbing pushed into my gut. She’d changed her mind about us? How was that possible?
“I think maybe we want different things.”
I stopped trying to move her hands and rolled to my back next to her. I’d been pushing too hard. Even though I’d not proposed, she must have felt pressured. I should have been more patient. Let her take the lead more. But I’d awakened from an Ashleigh coma. I wanted to get on with things. I’d been a fool to think I could hide it.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been too much. I just love you a crazy amount, and I don’t know how to cover it up.”
“What?” she asked.
“I shoul
d have tried to hold back more—and I shouldn’t have pressured you to move in.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she replied.
“Then what? Is it my job?” I didn’t understand what was happening. “Are you worried about what my becoming partner will do to us?”
She sat bolt upright. Was that it? She thought I’d spend too much time at work and wouldn’t have enough time for her? She clasped her hands over her mouth and fled into the bathroom. I hated seeing her so upset. I wanted to comfort her, reassure her that if that was the problem, I would make time for her. I found her hunched over the toilet.
“Jesus, are you okay? Are you sick?”
On cue, she began to retch. Fuck. I stood beside her and gathered her hair out of her way as she clung to the porcelain and her whole body heaved.
“What have you eaten? I feel fine after that omelet.” Of course, she couldn’t speak—she was too busy throwing up. I began to rub her back. Maybe she was sick, like terminally ill or something, and was running away so I didn’t have to take care of her. She was so selfless; it was the kind of thing she’d do.
“Ashleigh. Are you sick? Is there something wrong? Like seriously wrong? Is that why you want to leave?”
She reached for some toilet paper and wiped her mouth.
“Ashleigh, you’re scaring me.”
“No, Luke, it’s nothing like that . . .” She began to retch again.
Given that she was vomiting like the exorcist, she seemed remarkably calm.
“You’re not . . .” I didn’t finish my sentence. The words hung in the air between us. She wasn’t saying anything, and neither was I.
Jesus, she was pregnant? Was I going to be a father? How fucking terrifying. And how amazingly wonderful. I tried not to grin as Ashleigh continued retching, her breathing labored.
But then why did she want to leave me? Did she not want it? Was it all too much too soon for her? I wanted this baby—a family—with her. Surely I could convince her it would all be okay.