“Oh God.” I cover my face, needing to be quiet so I don’t wake them. It upsets them when I cry. I hear the small lull of the jet.
And I can’t help but let my mind drift back. Back to when I never dreamed I would be in this situation. Back when he promised to love me until I died, no matter what.
“Kitten, you feel this?” He places my hand on his heart. “This is all that matters. What I have in here, that’s only ever been for you. I need you to trust me. I will always be here for you. I’ll take care of you. Forever.” His lips claim mine and I feel myself falling so hard for him, my love like a raging fire that can’t ever be contained.
“I want to believe you so badly, Reed. But what if I do something you don’t like?”
He frowns. “I guess that goes both ways. Are you going to leave me if I do something wrong?”
“Never. I will never leave you. I love you.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about. Because there is nothing you could do that I would not be able to forgive.” My eyes pop open. I look around, my breathing harsh. Reaching for the water, I take a swig to cool my hot mouth.
“Liar,” I whisper.
TESS
Past – twenty-one years old
Flushing the toilet in our penthouse, I grab ahold of the sink and try to rinse my mouth. Slowly the feeling that I’m going to vomit again passes. With an exhale, I reach for my toothbrush, instantly gagging as I taste the minty paste on my tongue. Frustrated, I continue to brush, ignoring my dry heaves. I rinse my mouth and splash some cold water on my face.
The coolness helps. If I had the energy, I would love to soak in the tub. Maybe later after I take a nap. I don’t even bother looking at myself in the mirror, too scared at what I’ll see.
Slowly I make my way to the kitchen for a bottle of water. I also reach for an electrolyte drink. Maybe a banana would stay down? But I’m tired right now, and all I want is my warm bed.
“Tess? Sweetheart?” Reed gently shakes me.
“No…” I moan. His hand caresses my face.
“Still sick?”
I snuggle into his caress.
“I’m sorry I was gone so long, babe. The meeting with my dad lasted longer than I wanted. I was hoping you were going to be better.”
“Me too. It’s so weird that I’m still sick. Who knew food poisoning would kill me,” I whisper, my eyes still closed. Reed is silent, but I can feel his gaze on me.
“I’m calling Dr. Miller. Two weeks is long enough.”
“It hasn’t been two weeks.” I try to sit up. It’s been three, but who’s counting?
“We need to talk, Kitten.”
I groan again. “Not now, Reed. I’m tired. What time is it?” I glance around our dark bedroom.
“It’s one in the afternoon. How long have you been asleep? Have you eaten anything?”
“I can’t eat!” I snap. “I have the flu.”
“This is enough, Tess. I should have done this days ago.” He stands with his phone, glaring at me.
I raise an eyebrow. “Why are you scowling at me?”
“Because you are a complete neurotic and yet anytime I suggest we call Dr. Miller, you refuse. You want to tell me why?” He looks so healthy I want to punch him. But I literally have no energy. The thought of sitting up is a chore.
“I… he’s always so busy and I truly thought I was getting better,” I say, trying to sound convincing.
His blue eyes search my face and he shakes his head. “Whatever.”
Turning away from me with his phone, he asks for Dr. Miller, his soothing voice comforting. My eyes close again.
“Tess, honey? Come on, wake up.” Reluctantly I open my eyes, and my stomach immediately heaves. It’s been so long since I ate anything, I only gag a little.
Blinking in confusion, I look around the room for Reed. “Dr. Miller? What are you doing here?”
“I’m going to take some blood, honey. Then I’m going to give you an IV. You’re dehydrated. That’s why you can’t get your strength back.” He pats my hand. “This IV is going to fix you all up.” He smiles in that calm, kind way of his.
“Thank you, Dr. Miller.” Looking away as he draws my blood, I soon feel the cool fluids enter my veins. My eyes start to clear.
Dr. Miller sits at my side. “Now, Tess, how long has this been going on?” His brown eyes are so kind and understanding. I shouldn’t feel shy. After all, I’ve known Dr. Miller since I was a child.
“Um…” I ease my way into a sitting position. “Oh God, I feel better already… I guess it started about three weeks ago. Reed and I had sushi, and I threw up at the restaurant.”
“At the restaurant? Food poisoning takes a few hours, so that couldn’t have caused it.”
My cheeks heat up for the first time in a while. “Oh.” What else can I say?
“Reed says you have been unusually tired for the last couple of weeks and you’ve been throwing up?”
“I’ve been so miserable. I thought it was bad fish.”
Dr. Miller pats my hand again. “Well, that is why I’m here. Any fever?”
“I don’t think so. I guess I should have called you, but I kept thinking I would get better.”
I try to smile, but my lips are chapped.
We both turn our heads as Reed walks in carrying a paper bag. He pulls out a box of saltines. “How is she?” His beautiful eyes are full of worry.
I smile at him. “So much better already.”
Exhaling, he says, “Thank God. You were scaring me. Did you tell Dr. Miller you have been throwing up off and on for about a month and a half?”
“I have not. It’s only been a week.”
He arches a brow at me. “What about in California?”
Leaning my head back, I close my eyes. “That was because I drank too much.”
“Tess, you have been sick and tired for over a month. It started before California and that was six weeks ago.”
Shit. I lift my head. Has it been that long? Forcing my mind to work, I think about my strange exhaustion. Has it been longer than three weeks?
“I’m cold.”
Reed sits next to me and brings the comforter up around my neck, careful of the IV. But now that the truth is out in the room, looming over me, I’m not sure it has anything to do with the temperature.
“Okay.” Dr. Miller leans over and tests my glands in my throat.
Seeming satisfied, he turns to Reed. “Did you get the test?”
He nods, nervously running his hands through his hair. The IV drip ends with a small beep.
Dr. Miller checks my blood pressure and temperature. Standing up, he gets his stethoscope and listens to my heart. “I think you can use another bag of fluids,” he says, disconnecting one and reconnecting a new one.
“Well, I’m definitely getting hydrated. Is it almost done? I need to use the bathroom.”
“Almost. I want to make sure we get enough fluids into you.” He smiles down at me, then asks me the question. “When was your last period, Tess?”
And there it is. The question that I have buried deep in my subconscious. I can’t speak. Nothing comes out as I mentally track how long it’s been.
Reed cocks his head at me then turns to Dr. Miller. “She’s a little late, probably because she’s been sick.” I cling to him mute.
“Yes, that can happen. Are you still taking the pill?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Tess, you look terrified. I’m sure it’s exactly what you think.” The bag of fluid is done. Dr. Miller takes out the IV.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
“Perfect. I took blood and I will have those results in the morning. I think we need to do a pregnancy test now though.” The doctor hands me a white stick.
I sway. Reed is beside me, his strong arms wrapped around my waist.
“I’m not pregnant… I can’t be. I’m on the pill.” My voice sounds weak and far away. I have the oddest sensation, almost like I’m on a
rollercoaster, holding my breath, waiting for the first plunge. Reed’s strong hands have me sitting on the toilet.
A cool plastic white stick sits in my palm.
“Pee on it, Tess,” he demands, so I do.
As I watch, the little result window changes and right away two solid lines appear. Well, that didn’t take three minutes. That took five seconds.
Pregnant!
Deep down I knew. Deep down I know that this is the end. A tortured sob escapes me.
Reed holds me. He is murmuring comforting things. Things like it’s going to be all right. Like it’s meant to be.
Lies!
“Make sure she eats the crackers, applesauce, bread. Bland is the best with morning sickness. Her OB may prescribe her a pill to stop the vomiting. But hopefully, with the fluids we pumped into her she will be able to keep some food down and that won’t be necessary.”
Dr. Miller smiles down at me. “And I will call in the morning. Congratulations, you two.”
My mind is numb. I don’t even know how long I’ve been inspecting my nails. They are chipped. I hate chipped nails. I look up to see Reed staring at me.
“Do you feel up to talking” His blue eyes are guarded, unsure.
“What’s to talk about?” I look past his head and out the window. It’s getting dark out.
He sighs, running his hands through his hair. “I know this is a shock. Believe me, I’m shocked too. But the more I let it sink in that you are pregnant… with my baby. Kitten, we made a baby.”
And I think I might die. My heart is being torn in half.
“Reed,” I say, clearing my throat. “I can’t have this baby!”
I say this because it’s the truth. I’m mentally unfit, unstable, and let’s not even get into my pathetic body, seeming to be rejecting the whole idea.
He snorts and scoots me over so that he can slip in behind me. His warm, hard body instantly makes mine relax. His large hands pull me close then spread out on my flat stomach.
“Dr. Miller gave me a name of the best OB/GYN in Manhattan. I will get you an appointment tomorrow,” he murmurs in my ear. Tears slide down my cheeks.
“Reed!” I turn my head. “You’re not hearing me. We can’t have this baby!”
He grins. “Well, it’s a little late for that, Tess. You’ll be fine. Dr. Miller said in a couple of months the throwing up will be over and then smooth sailing.”
I turn over, lying on my back, and look at him. This man, who I have loved my whole life, is happy and wants this baby. I knew he would. My heart is racing.
I reach up and trace his full lips. “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. You can’t honestly want to be a father. You’re not even twenty-two. Maybe later.”
His warm hand caresses my chin, his thumb gently rubbing my bottom lip as he leans over and kisses me. I feel the wet tears, taste the salt as he continues to worship my face.
“You have always sold yourself short. You are going to be the best mother, trust me.”
I search his face. Jesus, he believes it. He loves me so much that he has no idea I’m not capable of this. Christ, the alcohol alone could have damaged the baby. Or it could be even crazier than I am. After all, I come from a long line of terrible people.
“Shh, rest. We will talk in the morning. You need your body to recuperate before you say anything you might regret.”
I turn to my side, my heart breaking. He’s wrong, so very wrong. I’m not going to change my mind. Some people can rise to the occasion. Do things they don’t want so they can make someone else happy. And I would do that. For Reed, I would do that. But I won’t do that to an innocent baby. No one deserves a mother like me. Both my parents would tell him so if they were here. He knows I suffer terrible anxiety, panic… whatever. I can’t pass that on to a child.
I close my eyes, my body and mind hurting. But that is nothing compared to what my heart feels. A hysterical giggle escapes me. I almost remind him I took a Valium last night. How could I even think about going however many months without one? But what’s the point? He wants to talk tomorrow. So, I’ll put off the inevitable.
REED
Past – The Day
I wake because I feel her gone. Then I hear her small gasps and heaves as she quietly pukes. I smile and stretch, amazed I slept the whole night.
“Tess? You okay?”
I jump up to help her. The sun is shining in our room. Everything feels shiny and fresh. Like my eyes have finally been opened and the world is exciting and new. I wasn’t surprised when I saw those two lines. I’ve suspected she’s pregnant for a while. Throwing up every time she had a drink was unusual. Then her exhaustion and lack of period seemed so obvious. Every day I waited for her to mention it. Or take a test. But she was adamant that she had the stomach flu and food poisoning, so I didn’t want to push her knowing she needed time to ease into things. Especially this. From day one, Tess has insisted that she’s terrified of being a mom. By my calculations, she’s about two and half months already. I should be scared or upset. All I can feel is joy. This is everything I have always wanted with her. I have to fight myself not to go to my closet for the ring. She’d kill me if I proposed with all this going on.
Opening the bathroom, I find her clutching the porcelain sink, her knuckles white from holding on so tight. She’s staring at herself almost trancelike as she brushes her teeth. She doesn’t even react to me.
Frowning, I walk up behind her. “You okay? Do you feel any better?”
She whirls around “Feel better? No, Reed, I feel like fucking death. As a matter of fact, I’m sure I am dying. No one can throw up this much and survive.”
I back up only because I don’t want her to see my lips twitching at her dramatics.
“Again, this is all part of it. We will get through it. How about I make you some eggs?” She looks at me and I instantly move aside and help her, holding her hair back as she gags into the toilet.
“Oh, Kitten, if I could trade places with you, I would.” Scooping her up, I carry her to our bed. One of our phones is ringing, but I ignore it as I tuck her in, caressing her hair.
“I love you.”
She turns and looks at me, her eyes shiny with unshed tears. My heart starts to beat faster. The feeling of doom takes ahold of me and twists and turns all over my heart. Suddenly our room isn’t so bright.
“What?” My voice sounds unintentionally harsh.
“I can’t do this.” Four little words that make my heart start to bleed.
“You’re doing it. And you will be fine.” Looking away, I don’t want to see her tortured eyes. The sapphire sparkle is gone. My eyes focus on the clothes in the hamper. Tess usually keeps everything neat for the maids. Since she’s been sick, the room could use some help.
“You’re delusional!” Her raspy voice forces my eyes back to hers. “Listen to me. I cannot have this baby!” She sounds pathetic.
Suddenly I have no patience for her shit. She’s pregnant, not dying.
“What the fuck, Tess?” I must get away from her, or I’ll say something I shouldn’t. I hear her soft sobs and hiccups.
“I’m sorry, Reed. Please understand. I… just… can’t.”
“What are you saying? You want an abortion?” I spit it out, needing her to deny it.
“Yes.”
I stop. Surely I didn’t hear her right. “What?”
She cringes, and I take a breath. But it’s too late. The time for breathing is over. “You’re not that fucking pathetic and weak! Or that insane to want to abort it!”
Jesus is she that fucked up? Have I been loving someone who is not real? A made-up version of a little boy’s idea of perfection?
“Reed.” She sits up, her arms reaching for me. “Don’t look at me like that.”
I shake my head, trying to get some semblance of rational thinking. My temper has always been my weakest of faults. I can go from calm to seeing red in a moment. But never with Tess.
She launches
herself at me. She’s crying and I catch her. For one moment I hold her and breathe her in. That wonderful Tess smell circles me like smoke coming out of a campfire. I let my mind pretend that she is not trying to kill my child. That she is crying tears of joy like me. She reaches for my face, her hands ice cold on my cheeks.
Shaking her head, she says, “I told you I don’t want children. I only want you.”
Her eyes are so hopeful. I start to question myself.
“I’m not fit to be a mother. I’ve been drinking and let’s not forget my Valium.”
I grab her wrists tightly. “You. Are. Fine. But if you do this, we won’t be.”
She pulls away and walks slowly to the window, crossing her arms, almost as if she’s protecting her belly. “Reed, it isn’t even a person yet.”
It’s as though she just stabbed me. I can’t stand her right now. I back away from her. My ears are burning. I’m losing this battle of controlling my emotions.
“You’re in shock.” I spit it out, although I’m starting to think I’m in shock.
“Probably.”
“You want an abortion.” I’m not asking her. I need to hear it so that whatever I have loved about her can finally be free.
She reaches for me. I step away, and for the first time in my life, I don’t want her to touch me.
She drops her hands. “I would never make it through a pregnancy. Then having a baby at twenty-two years old it… it’s insane! What kind of parents would we be? You think you want this, but you don’t. You have no idea what children need. It takes way more than money to be a good parent.”
“You’ve become your father,” I whisper, the fury of her betrayal burning a hole inside my heart. “You sound exactly like him.”
Her shoulders slump. And I wonder how I ever thought her beautiful.
“Stop looking at me like that!” she screams. “You know deep down inside, I’m right. Admit it! I’m a big enough person to.”
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