by Mia Ford
As far as my physical ailments, I was still feeling terrible. I had gotten to the point where I could get up and shower every day, but I think that was more because I was getting used to feeling like hell, not because I actually felt any better.
I was starting to get concerned about my wellbeing. Stomach flus never lasted this long, so I made an appointment with the doctor and dragged myself to his office. They did all kinds of tests and left me sitting in the office on a crumpled strip of paper with an examination gown that swamped me. I dangled my feet over the edge of the table and looked down at my feet, feeling so small in the world. It was times like these, when I was sick and scared, that Nathan was supposed to be there comforting me.
“Amanda,” the doctor said as he walked in, looking at my chart. “I think we found the culprit to your stomach issues.”
“Oh, good,” I said. “What do I need to do? Take some medicine and get some sleep I hope because I’m exhausted.”
“Well, it’s not quite that simple,” he said. “You are going to be feeling exhausted for quite a while, although there are things I can do for the nausea.”
“What do you mean? What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing is wrong with you.” He chuckled. “You’re pregnant.”
“Wait, what did you say?”
“You’re pregnant, Amanda,” he said, taking off his glasses and looking at me. “And I can tell now, this is coming to you as a surprise.”
“Uh, yeah,” I said. “I mean, the thought of me being pregnant never even crossed my mind. Not for a second.”
“I’m assuming you are sexually active,” he said.
“Yes, well, I was,” I replied. “We broke up.”
“Maybe you should call him,” he said gently. “You don’t have to go through all of this alone.”
“I don’t think that’s an option,” I replied, completely stunned. “And you’re sure I’m pregnant? It’s not just some weird mishap with the test?”
“Blood tests don’t lie about something like this.” He smiled. “And from your chart, it looks like you are a week late for your period at this point.”
“Yeah, I just thought it was because of whatever I had,” I said.
“Well, in a way it is.” He chuckled. “Why don’t you lay back, and I will take a look with the portable sonogram? It’s not as elaborate as the full version you will get in a month or so, but it will show me the gestational sac, and I can tell you about how far along you are.”
I laid back and lifted my knees, pushing them apart. He reached under the sheet and inserted the wand, moving it slightly back and forth. I looked over at the black and white screen, watching the blurs move across, wondering which one was the baby. He clicked and clacked on the keys, taking measurements and looking at his notes. When he was done, he cleaned me up and sat back in his chair.
“Well, it all seems to line up perfectly,” he said. “You are around five weeks pregnant, but that reading can change as the baby grows, and we can actually take better measurements.”
I didn’t know what to think. My mind was on fire. Nathan had left me. He had just gotten up and ran off, saying I was trying to steal his money. I was all alone, with no job, no ability to start my clinic, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for any of it. My face turned white as I sat there staring up at the different charts on the wall.
“If you need some help,” the doctor said. “Or you need to talk to someone, I can refer you.”
“Thank you,” I said sweetly. “I just want to go home.”
“Alright,” he said. “The front desk will have some information for you, and they will set up your next appointment.”
“Thank you, doctor,” I said, smiling at him as he left the room.
I gathered my things and changed my clothes, my mind completely blank. It was like I had gone numb, and nothing seeped through, not even the heartache that had been plaguing me. When I checked out, they gave me a prescription for the morning sickness, and I set up my future appointments. I walked out to my car and climbed in, sitting there and gripping the steering wheel.
I had no idea what to do next or where to even go. I figured that my first step was to call Nathan and let him know. He deserved to know he was going to be a father. I pulled my cell phone out of the bag and scrolled through the numbers, my finger hovering over the call button. If he still felt the same way as before, he was going to just think this was a ploy to get him back. Either way, I had to tell him, or at least try to tell him. It was my responsibility to do so.
I pressed call button and pulled the phone to my ear, listening to the ringing. After the third ring, it went straight to voicemail. He had rejected the call, which didn’t surprise me at all. I thought about leaving a voicemail, but I had no idea what I should even say. I couldn’t tell him that I was pregnant on his voicemail, and everything else would just sound like a feeble attempt to get him to call me. I hung up the phone and tossed it on the seat next to me. What were the steps after that? Should I find him? Should I go to his office to tell him the news, or should I take the rejected call as a rejection of me and the baby? With the way, he acted the last time I saw him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he rejected both of us anyway.
Tears began to burn at the corners of my eyes, thinking about the life I had lost. None of this was fair, and now, I was facing this huge thing on my own. I leaned my head back against the seat and took in a deep breath, shaking my head.
Fuck it.
I could just raise this baby on my own, be a single mother to it, and when it was old enough, it could make the choice to find its father or not. It wasn’t the ideal situation by any stretch of the imagination, but I wouldn’t abort the baby. It just wasn’t in me to do that. I had made my bed, with someone’s diabolical push, and now, I had to sleep in it alone.
I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, tears overflowing and streaming down my cheeks. I wasn’t sure what I was more upset about: Nathan’s blatant refusal to hear me out, the fact that I was going to be a single mom, or that my whole life was a complete and utter mess. I cried the entire way home. Then, I went inside and laid down on the couch, sobbing into the pillow. I needed to get my prescription, but I couldn’t go anywhere in that state of mind. I turned my head to the side and sniffled, listening to my phone vibrate on the table. I grabbed it, hoping it was Nathan, but it wasn’t. It was Lindsey, probably making sure I hadn’t thrown myself off the roof after the breakup.
“Hey,” I said, trying to muffle my shaky voice.
“Hey, sweetie,” Lindsey replied. “I was just calling to check on you and see how you were doing.”
I thought about telling her, getting the whole thing off of my chest. If she knew I was pregnant, she would surely tell Jordan, and maybe he would spread the news to Nathan. I swallowed hard, realizing that wasn’t the answer at all.
“I’m doing okay,” I said. “I went to the doctor today.”
“Good,” she said. “What did they say?”
I paused for a moment, trying to decide what to tell her. I felt so alone, but putting this drama on my best friend was not the answer to making me feel better. I thought up a quick lie and figured I would explain it later when the time was right.
“I have the flu,” I said. “Just like I thought. They gave me something for the nausea, and I am going to go get the prescription in a little bit.”
“I’m so glad that it can be fixed,” she said. “I was really starting to worry about you.”
“I just hope you don’t get sick since you were over here,” I said, making it sound believable. “You know how these things go, and I don’t want you laid up, missing work and preparations for the wedding.”
This was going to be my cover story for now, and I had to make sure that there were no holes in it. On top of that, if I sounded like an incubator for the plague, everyone would leave me alone for a little while. I just wanted to be alone, to have some peace and quiet to start thinking about everything. I needed a
plan, and I needed one fast. My money would hold me and the baby for a little while, but after that, I had to go to work and provide for my child.
“I don’t want you to worry about that,” Lindsey said. “You probably were past contagious when I came, and if I was going to catch anything, I would already be feeling it. Besides, a little stomach flu might get these three pounds off my thighs that the photographer keeps bitching about.”
“I don’t think that’s a good way to do it.” I laughed.
“You’re probably right, but damn it, the squats are just not working,” she said. “And if I eat another bowl of dry lettuce, I am going to be growing floppy ears and a puffy little tail. Then the photographer will really have something to complain about.”
“You would be an adorable bunny.” I fake chuckled.
“I would,” she said. “Alright, I’ll let you go. Get that prescription filled, and get some sleep. I’ll check on you later, and if you need anything at all, just call me. I can run over to the house.”
“Thanks, girl,” I said. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” she said before hanging up.
I put down the phone and laid my head on the pillow, staring blankly toward the window. My life had changed in the matter of five minutes, and I didn’t even know how to compute that through my little brain. I was shell-shocked and angry and every other emotion I could possibly have. Tears welled up again in my eyes and ran down onto the pillow. The only thing I could do was lay there and cry, letting the hormones escape through my tear ducts. Hopefully, by the time I was able to process things again, I would feel better about it all. Nathan had left me, and it was obvious I couldn’t change that, but now, I had to move forward, with or without him.
Chapter 16
Nathan
It was Saturday night, and I was out at the bar with John. He had been trying to keep me busy, get me out of my house, and move me forward, but I wasn’t really having it. I went out for the booze and to keep him off my back for a little while. I used to love going to that pub, with the music, the women, and the vibe it gave out, but as I sat there with my shot of whiskey, I looked around me in disgust.
All of those people were there for a purpose, to find love, whether it was forever or for just one night. They should wake up and realize that love was something we created to feel better about our lives. Love was just another way that we could inflict suffering and hurt onto ourselves, having the guise of emotion to blame our heartbreaks on when it all fell apart. And it always fell apart in the end.
The bartender walked up, and I took the shot, nodding at him to fill me up again. He paused for a moment, and I nodded to the car parked out front, letting him know I wasn’t driving. He wiped his hands and poured me another, looking at me with pity as he walked away. I wasn’t even trying to hide how miserable I was—or how drunk I was, for that matter—and I was pretty wasted. I had told John that I got to the pub just before him, but the truth was, I had been there and two other places that day. I started it all with a couple of glasses of wine at my house and moved over to the hard stuff by the time I reached the first bar. It seemed like the only thing I could do to stop feeling all of the things that were running through my head. I wanted to drink Amanda out of my system, but no matter how many shots I took, she was still there, smiling down at me.
“Hey,” a soft voice said next to me. “You mind if I sit down?”
“It’s a free country,” I said, not looking up.
“I’m Misty,” she said as I turned and looked up her long, sexy legs. “I saw you over here, and I thought I would come say hi.”
My eyes trailed up her waist and settled on her big, fake, bouncy tits. She was the kind of girl I would normally jump all over as a one-night stand. I knew she was looking for a husband, but I wasn’t looking for anything but the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. I took my shot and threw her a fake smile before turning back and watching the bartender fill my glass again.
“Misty, you are very fucking hot,” I said, slurring a bit. “But go away. I’m not interested.”
“Jesus,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Fucking drunk.”
I scoffed and toasted to the air before sipping my drink. I sat there thinking about how much I wanted to talk to Amanda. My mind was distracted slightly as John walked over and slapped his hand on my shoulder. I loved John for saving me, but I hated him for saving me at the same time. Maybe I would be better off just living in a dream, married to some girl that wanted my money but pretended that she wanted me. It seemed that was the only way I wasn’t going to be alone.
“Hey, buddy,” he said. “How’s it going?”
“Perfect,” I replied, holding up my shot.
“Why did you chase that pretty little thing away?”
“I’m not in the mood,” I said. “I don’t want some fake-tittied bitch trying to take me home.”
“Why not? It doesn’t seem like too bad of a deal to me.” He laughed.
“It’s pointless,” I grumbled. “You wouldn’t understand anyway.”
“It’s the married chick, isn’t it?” John asked, sitting down in the chair next to me. “You are still hung up on that girl. Dude, this is starting to get really unhealthy. It didn’t work. She played you. You have to pick your shit up and keep going. You are letting her get you down so far, you can’t even see out of your empty shot glass.”
“Well then, I better fill it back up,” I said. “If I’m going to be blind, I better do it with a whole lot of alcohol in my system.”
“I don’t understand,” John said, shaking his head. “You weren’t like this with your ex.”
“She wasn’t Amanda,” I said.
“She might as well have been,” he scoffed. “She roped you in just like this girl did, and the whole time was planning to use you for everything you had. You deserve better than that, man. I just can’t wrap my head around why you are so hung up on this girl.”
“Well, I am,” I said. “And I don’t know what to say to you to make you understand it any better. I’m sorry that you have never met a woman that did to you what she did to me, before the revelation. I wish that I could take what was in my head and give it to you. Trust me. I don’t want to feel like this, but I can’t help it. It hits me when I first wake up in the morning, all through the day, and stays with me until I fall asleep at night.”
“You mean pass out drunk at night.” John chuckled. “You are going to drink your liver away, man. You are rolling through this pile of shit that life has handed to you. You need to get up, shower off, and grab yourself by the balls. This is not like you at all, and if you want to keep going in life, you have to do something to fix yourself.”
“I loved her,” I said, turning to him. “Like really loved her. I loved her the first moment I saw her. I loved her hair, her smell, her laugh, the way she moved her hips, and everything else about her. I loved her flaws and thought they made her that more human. It was the one time I have ever felt completely comfortable being myself, finding someone that accepted everything about me without ever batting an eyelash.”
“Of course, she did,” he said. “She wanted your billions.”
“What’s so bad about using my money to open a clinic?”
“Are you kidding me?” he asked. “It’s bad because she was exchanging her pussy for money. She was no better than some Hollywood Boulevard hooker, only they are way cheaper, and they don’t lie to your motherfucking face.”
“She’s a lying, fucking gold digger like every other woman on this planet,” I mumbled. “I didn’t even see it coming, either. I am such a moron.”
“You are not the first man to have this happen to him,” John said, sipping his beer. “And you won’t be the last. The most important thing is that you get your mind straight and not let it happen to you ever again. Let some other poor schmuck get played. You focus on the prize, and get out there, play the game, and eventually, you will meet a woman that loves you for you and not because you have billion
s in the bank account.”
“Yeah, right,” I scoffed. “That will always be a selling point for women. The stability life brings when you marry someone for money. It’s like it’s fucking bred into these broads to find a man and check his account balance first. I just don’t fucking get it. What happened to the romance of it all? I’m done with women, the whole lot of them. They can go find some other asshole to schmooze. I’ll never trust another woman as long as I live.”
“You said that before, and look where you are now.” He chuckled. “What you need is a nice, sweet, little chick to suck your cock. You need to fuck some girl until you collapse, and then wake up the next day, hit the gym, and get back to normal. That first fuck after a break up is always the cure. You know that. There are a ton of women in this bar tonight that would take you home and ride you until the sun came up. This is why I brought you here, man. Take advantage of the plethora of ass that is constantly throwing itself at you. Don’t be a fucking pussy.”
