“I honestly haven’t thought about it at all. I have an app on my phone that tells me all about what’s happening in there. Apparently, the baby is the size of a grape,” she giggled.
“A grape?” I frowned in disbelief.
“I know! That’s crazy, right? I’ve been reading a lot about it, trying to get ready. I could really blow your mind,” she joked. I was impressed by her admission. She was trying her best to prepare on her own. I commended that.
“I can’t believe any of this is happening. It’s a bit surreal,” I admitted and could visually see Emily close off. She’d just been so open and vulnerable, and my words made her feel rejected, even if only slightly. I felt like an asshole, even though I meant no harm.
“I don’t want you to feel like you’re obligated to do anything. I didn’t come to you for money or anything like that. And I definitely didn’t come for this,” she motioned towards her naked body referencing the sex. “I’m not trying to force a relationship with you or anything like that. I mean, I Googled you,” she smirked, and I remembered the terrible stories I’d seen written about me. Embarrassment flooded throughout me as I assumed Emily must have read those same stories.
“Not all of it is true,” I whispered, although I knew that most of it was.
“I was only kidding, Aiden. I don’t care what people write about you. I was just curious to know you. And I only came to tell you, because I thought you deserved to know.”
“I’m glad you found me,” and I was. I wanted to see her again regardless, but now that she was carrying my baby, I definitely wanted to play a role, even if I had yet to determine what that meant exactly. I agreed with her; I did deserve to know.
“So am I,” she smiled as she pulled the sheet up to her neck, covering her naked body.
“So, tell me about yourself. You Googled me, so you have me at a disadvantage,” I explained while holding my head in my hand as I leaned my weight on my elbow. Emily looked towards the ceiling and took a deep breath before speaking.
“Let’s see… My name is Emily Morgan, and I’m 28. Like I told you earlier, my parents passed away a while back, and I’m the only child. Mariah, my best friend, is pretty much my only family. I work at a middle school, Wilshire Academy, teaching gymnastics, and I coach private lessons in the evenings. And I volunteer at the YMCA to teach the cheerleaders how to tumble.
I’ve recently been asked to come on board as a coach for a competitive cheerleading team, but I might have to decline that now that I’ll be out of commission soon,” she rubbed her belly as she talked more to herself than to me. Watching her touch her belly made me feel some sense of a connection to her. The baby was a part of both of us, and I knew I wanted to be included in the process.
“Can I?” I asked nervously while looking at her hand on her belly.
“Of course,” she smiled before adding, “there’s not much to feel yet though. I’m excited to see a bump, but then I’m scared of getting all fat,” she giggled.
“You won’t be fat, you’ll be pregnant. You’re too beautiful to ever worry about anything like that,” I absentmindedly admonished as I rubbed my hand over her belly. I could tell that my words affected her, but luckily this time they seemed to have a positive impact. Emily was so thin; my large hand appeared to cover her entire belly.
I couldn’t imagine having a girlfriend at all, but a pregnant girlfriend seemed even more unbelievable. I remembered Jeff’s stories from when Amy was pregnant. Emily would probably be so demanding and emotional. I just knew I would mess it up and the thought made me question my involvement. My feelings were all over the place. I just didn’t know what was what.
“What are you thinking?” Emily asked as my hand still laid spread across her stomach.
“It’s a lot to take in. I feel like I just need time to process it, you know?” It was how I honestly felt, but I knew I could have worded it better the second the words left my lips.
I could see Emily’s emotions shift. Here I was, the man that had taken her virginity and impregnated her, telling her I needed time to process it. Of course, this is immediately after incredible sex, which was strangely what I initiated once I found out she was carrying my baby.
My jumbled up feelings were sending her mixed signals, and I felt like an asshole for it. Tears pooled in Emily’s eyes, and she tried to hide them as she asked to use the restroom before grabbing her dress from the floor and rushing away.
I slipped on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt as I waited for her to return from the restroom. I went over possible apologies as I prepared myself to explain how sorry I was for being a dick. I really didn’t mean to offend her, it just seemed like I kept saying the wrong things.
I didn’t want to lead her on, but I also didn’t want her to think I didn’t care about her at all because that was far from the truth. Over the past two months, I’d thought of her more times than I could count. I figured that might be the best thing to tell her, so I took a deep breath as I heard the bathroom door opening.
“Emily –” I started before she cut me off.
“No, Aiden, just listen,” she commanded, her right hand rose in the air. She’d redressed in her bright sundress, the blue floral print made the eyes I’d daydreamed about seem even brighter. “You have every right to need time, and I don’t want to make you feel sorry for that, I really don’t. It took me days to accept that this is even happening, and I’m the one with a changing body. You should definitely take your time. Don’t feel guilty about that. We didn’t plan this; it’s a big shock for me as much as it is for you. I meant what I said. I really didn’t come here to demand a relationship or shake you down for money. I just thought you have a right to know. Let’s just exchange numbers, and we can keep in touch,” her voice cracked as she said the last three words and I felt my stomach drop.
She was trying so hard to be strong and understanding, but it was tough for her. I knew she had to be feeling a little rejected and that hurt me.
“Emily, I don’t mean to hurt you. I swear I don’t,” I tried to think of all of the apologies I’d practiced while she was in the restroom, but that was all I could manage.
“It’s okay. It really is. I’m pregnant, and I’m just emotional, but you’re only human, Aiden. Don’t be hard on yourself,” she looked away as she tried to wipe a falling tear away subtly, but I saw it, and it broke my heart to see her in such turmoil.
Without thinking, I wrapped her in my arms as she buried her face in my chest. I kissed the top of her head as I inhaled her scent one last time, not knowing when I’d see her next.
We exchanged phone numbers, and Emily moved to rush towards the door. It seemed the longer she was around me, the more she needed to get away.
“John can take you home,” I frowned, confused.
“No, it’s okay, I don’t live far. I’m just gonna walk,” she said as she continued toward the door and although I didn’t know her well, I knew she was lying. She still felt rejected.
“Well, I can walk you home,” I suggested, as I moved to grab a pair of shoes.
“No, no. It’s fine, Aiden. I could use a little alone time anyway,” she tried to force a smile, but it didn’t reach her tear filled eyes.
“Emily, please,” I begged, for what I don’t know. Maybe I wanted her forgiveness. I knew I had her empathy. I just didn’t want her to be hurt because of me.
“Aiden, it’s fine. I swear. I’m just pregnant. Take some time and think it all through. We have each other’s info now so you can reach out to me whenever you’re ready. No pressure,” her voice seemed more controlled now, but I knew she was far from okay.
“And you can call me if you need anything,” I searched her eyes to make sure she knew that, but she simply nodded before turning to head toward the door.
“Bye,” she whispered as she glanced back at me once more before entering the private elevator.
I waved, and my heart sank as the door closed. I was sure she was going to cry in the elevato
r, and it made me feel like a complete dickhead.
Chapter Eight
EMILY
Sometimes I think that putting a name to my mystery man only made things worse. At least meeting him did. It had been a week since I left his penthouse feeling like a reject, and I had yet to hear from him. Mariah thought I should reach out to him, but what more was there to say? I’d told him about our child together and given him the opportunity to play whatever role he wanted. He was making it more than clear that he didn’t want to play a part at all. Instead, he wanted to act like I didn’t exist.
He was so confusing. The way he looked at me and touched me made me think there may be something between us, but then he drops the bomb that he needs time. Surely he didn’t need time to take my clothes off, that he seemed more than ready to do. And my God was he good at it. Knowing I didn’t have anything to compare it to personally, I knew our sexual chemistry was exceptional. I’d heard enough terrible tales from Mariah to know that what we had was way better than average.
I knew going over to meet him was a gamble, and I had no intention of forcing any type of relationship on him, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it. After reading countless blog articles about how much of a bad boy he was, I questioned if he even had the capability to be in a committed relationship. Maybe he was doing me a favor by ignoring me. I didn’t want an unfaithful man, but the thought of being a single mother was stressing me out. So much so that I tried my regular routine of jumping on the trampoline for a little stress relief, but I think it might have been too strenuous because afterward, I felt some pretty severe cramps.
I figured I should check up on it, so I scheduled an emergency doctor’s appointment, and now as I wait for the results I just pray I didn’t harm my baby.
“Hey Emily,” Dr. Lindsey cheerily walked into the exam room holding her clipboard.
“Is everything okay?” I nervously asked, unable to participate in our regular routine of small talk.
“Yes, but you shouldn’t be putting yourself at risk this way,” her look of concern was a bit embarrassing. She looked at me like I should know better as she settled into her stool before rolling over to the exam table.
“I know. It’s just that gymnastics is how I relieve stress, so I thought that this would be the least dangerous exercise,” I vainly justified.
“How about we go for no risk. Can you handle that?” She jokingly asked. Of course, I shouldn’t be risking my health at all during pregnancy, but she didn’t know what I was going through and I really didn’t want to tell her. So instead I just agreed.
“I think that’s fair. So you think I should abstain from all gymnastics?” I was afraid to hear her answer as all of the exercises I wouldn’t be able to do rushed through my mind.
“I think that’s best. And you should begin to look for colleagues that can take on your students while you take some time off. You’re facing at least 6-months of necessary maternity leave, considering the physical nature of your profession,” she began checking off things on her clipboard as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb in my life.
“Six months?” I practically yelled in disbelief. I’d considered the time off I’d need once the baby was born, and my job allocated for 3-months paid leave, which I thought was beyond sufficient. But six months seemed excessive. I had a nice cushion of savings; my parents had each left me a sizeable inheritance that I rarely needed to touch, but I didn’t plan on using it all before my baby’s first birthday.
“Do you imagine yourself spotting your students during your 8th month of pregnancy, Emily?” She scrunched her eyebrows in a way that let me know her question was rhetorical, but I decided to answer anyway.
“Well, yes. Actually, I thought I could work up until I had the baby and then just take a couple of months off after the birth,” I tilted my head as Dr. Lindsey began laughing during my explanation of my tentative plan. She instantly stopped laughing when I began to frown.
“Oh, you’re serious,” she paused as she put her hand over mine, silently assuring me she meant no offense. “Emily, I know plenty of women who have over-ambitious plans during their first pregnancy. You’re relatively young, and you’re very healthy, so I don’t doubt that you will be able to do everything you imagine.
But, just to be safe, let’s plan on the cautious side because babies can drain you of your energy. You’ve already begun experiencing fatigue and exhaustion in your first trimester. That’s only going to increase as time goes on, so you should have a plan in place for that,” Dr. Lindsey was trying her best not to be condescending, but I could see in her eyes what she really wanted to say. She wanted to tell me I was crazy if I thought I’d be able to continue teaching gymnastics throughout my entire pregnancy.
“Well, I guess you know best,” I conceded while trying to force a smile.
“Emily, you’ll have plenty of time to teach and practice yourself, but you’ll only have one time to get this right. In the grand scheme of things, when you’re holding your healthy baby, you’ll look back and realize how small of a sacrifice this is,” she smiled gently as she stood from her stool and informed me that I could get dressed before excusing herself.
As soon as the door closed the tears began rolling down my face. While I knew Dr. Lindsey meant well, I couldn’t help but feel like an asshole after her speech. Why was I risking my child’s health because of my personal stress? And why would I even consider working up until the birth, as if my baby wouldn’t need me to rest and take it easy? I shouldn’t need to be told to sacrifice, but I was grateful to Dr. Lindsey for making it clear that my plan needed some readjusting.
After getting dressed, I decided to treat myself to lunch. I could use the pick me up, and Mariah was free, so she decided to join me. We decided to meet at our favorite Mexican restaurant since it was close to her job.
“I ordered you a virgin margarita,” Mariah announced as I sat down at the table she’d reserved for us.
“How long have you been waiting?” I asked, knowing her schedule was busy.
“Oh, I just got her. Don’t worry,” she said casually as she handed me a menu, although I already knew what I was ordering.
“You know I’m getting the enchiladas,” I said while placing the menu on the table.
“When is this belly gonna grow? You’re going to be so cute with a baby bump,” Mariah said while smiling and gently rubbing my belly as I scooted next to her in the semi-circle booth.
“I’ve got enough changes to deal with, the belly can take its time,” I half smirked while glancing around the restaurant. It was pretty empty despite it being the lunch hour. We would’ve never been able to take up such a large booth at nighttime, as it was one of the more popular restaurants in the downtown area.
“Are your boobs bigger?” Mariah leaned back to gauge how much my breasts had grown.
“Just a little, but I’m always tired. I literally daydream about naps at work. It's ridiculous,” I confessed as the waiter placed our drinks on the table before taking our food orders.
“So have you talked to Aiden at all?” Mariah asked as the waiter retreated towards the kitchen. I could sense the apprehension in her voice. We hadn’t talked about Aiden since I’d gone to meet him.
“Nope,” I said flatly, over exaggerating my lips before taking a sip of my virgin margarita.
“Ouch. What’s his deal?” She asked while rolling her eyes.
“I guess he just doesn’t want to be a daddy,” I shrugged while sharing what I had thought to be the only reasonable explanation for his behavior.
“Well, he doesn’t get much of a choice. That part’s settled; he’s definitely going to be a daddy. The only question is if he’s going to be a good one or a deadbeat.” Mariah was in full-on defensive mode. Although she hadn’t told me when I first found out who he was during the hockey game, she later admitted that she’d heard rumors of him being a playboy, and how he was known to get into trouble and start fights. She didn’t think there was a
chance that he would step up to the plate and be a father to our baby, and with his lack of communication, I had to agree with her.
“It’s a lot to take in, Mariah. He’s probably in so much shock. I don’t really blame him. He has to process it on his own time, and maybe he just doesn’t want to play a role. That doesn’t make him the worst person in the world,” I was trying to convince Mariah and myself. I’d pretty much accepted that I was going to raise my baby alone, but I really didn’t want to have any animosity or hate towards their father. So I’d been trying to reasonably understand his actions so that I could find some way to forgive him.
“Actually I think this is the definition of the worst person. How could you just abandon your child? He’s a fucking billionaire, he could at least give you some money,” Mariah said enraged, thankfully she whispered the last sentence.
“In his defense, he did tell me to call him if I needed anything, but I’m not going to ask him for money. I’d rather he played no role at all than to be some sort of absent bankroll,” I explained.
In some ways, I wondered if Aiden was testing me. Maybe he wanted to see if I was just after his money, so he wasn’t calling to see if I would reach out to him with a request. I guess I was reaching for straws refusing to embrace my inevitable future as a single mom.
“Emily, I know you’re a very proud person, but don’t force yourself to struggle to prove a point. He’s just as responsible as you. And if you need something, you should hit him up to help,” she spoke in her gentle tone that let me know she was serious, and she felt sorry for me. I hated that Mariah pitied me.
I’d envisioned myself pregnant many times before. I imagined shopping for cribs with my husband, having a maternity photo shoot, planning a baby shower and even going to ultrasounds together. My dream life as I envisioned it was ruined. I tried not to give it much thought because I didn’t want the birth of my baby to signify the death of my dream life.
Instead, I wanted to create a new dream life for myself, but it was difficult with nothing about my reality being ideal. Everything seemed to be stressful and frankly quite exhausting. I couldn’t even bring myself to tell Mariah about Dr. Lindsey’s suggestion that I plan for 6-months off, or how that would financially strain me. I knew she would only stress the option to ask Aiden for help and I wasn’t ready to look at him as nothing more than financial aid.
Break Away Page 7
