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“Already done it.”
I sighed. “Properly. Do you have any antiseptic cream?”
He smirked. “Yeah, right.”
I tutted, starting rooting in my bag. “You have two girls, Darren, antiseptic cream isn’t some kind of crazy novelty.” I pulled out a couple of Ruby’s sweets and some plasters. The antiseptic cream was right at the bottom. I pulled out an antibacterial wipe and closed the distance between us. “Can I?”
He grunted, nodded his head.
I wiped his lip and he didn’t even flinch, just stared at me. I put some cream onto my finger and dabbed it on. It made my tummy flutter.
“I’m not a baby,” he said. “Thanks, though.”
A baby. My legs felt wobbly.
He checked his t-shirt, saw the blood splatter. “Jimmy made quite a fucking mess of me.” He slipped past me and headed down the hall. I followed him to his bedroom doorway, stared at him as he sat on his bed, pulled his t-shirt off over his head and found a fresh one.
Now or never.
I took a breath.
“I’m pregnant,” I said.
He stopped moving, stopped doing anything. Stopped even breathing, I think.
A long silence, and we just looked at each other.
“Well?” I said. “Are you going to say something?”
He looked at the floor. “Is it, um. Is it mine?”
My cheeks burned, horror washing over me. I put my hands on my belly, fought the urge to cry. He looked up and saw my face, and his eyes widened.
“Of course it’s yours!” I spat. “Jesus, Darren, how could you even think it wouldn’t be?!”
I shook my head, reeling. I turned away and propped myself against the doorframe.
“I didn’t know!” he said. “For fuck’s sake, Jo, I’ve had that bitch Lorraine in my head, spouting fucking all sorts. You came to me for a fucking gangbang, that’s what you wanted! Another one, too! How am I supposed to know what to think? All this new hair and clothes and fancy makeup, how am I supposed to know what you’re doing? What you want? Who you’re fucking seeing?”
“I told you I loved you!” I said. I couldn’t even look at him. “I can’t believe you’d think that of me after all these years. I wanted you, Darren! I always wanted you!” The tears came, welled up. I sniffed them back but he heard me.
“Fucking hell, Jo, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, alright!” He kicked the bedside table. “I’m such a fucking prick, I never know what to fucking say. Always putting my fucking foot in it.”
I wiped my eyes, turned back around. “Stop,” I said. “I’m ok. We just need to talk… need to plan… I don’t work at the cafe anymore and I’m scared… I need to know you’ll help me… if you’ll help me…”
He looked like I’d slapped him. “Of course I’ll fucking help you.”
I choked a sob of relief. “Thanks,” I said. “I’m happy, I think. I mean it’s crazy, and it was stupid, and I’m scared, and it’s all messed up, but I’m happy.”
He nodded. “That’s good.”
“That’s all you’ve got to say, is it? That’s good?” I shrugged. “Say something, Darren! For once in your life just fucking say something, will you? Tell me how you feel! Tell me anything! Just give me something! I’m out on a limb here and I’m all alone!”
“You’re never alone, Jo,” he said. “I’m always right fucking here.”
I brushed stupid tears away, and he fumbled in his bedside drawer.
My heart raced as he shoved his hand to the back, rustled around in the paperwork.
No.
Please God no.
He pulled out the ring box and my heart turned cold. So cold.
He dropped to one knee, and opened the box, just like that, on his bedroom carpet amongst his dirty clothes.
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t fucking think.
“Will you marry me, Jo? Say you’ll fucking marry me.” His eyes were so intense.
I pulled a face, a horrible face. “Good God, no!” I said.
I stumbled to my feet, reeling. Feeling like a stupid fucking idiot.
“But I thought… you said you…”
Her eyes were so cold. “You want me to wear someone else’s ring?! Some other woman’s ring? Like being second choice isn’t bad enough without having Stacey’s fucking engagement ring on my finger, Darren!” She put her hand to her forehead, paced back and forth. “I can’t believe you’d ask me that, with her ring!”
I stared at the box, mute. Just fucking mute.
It took me a second to find my tongue.
“This was never Stacey’s fucking ring, Jo! Jesus Christ, what do you fucking take me for?” I rooted in the bedside drawer, threw out papers until I found the receipt. I handed it to her and she took it, eyes wide. “It was your fucking ring! It was always your ring! She found it, thought it was for her, like I’d have ever fucking proposed to her! I never loved her, Jo! I loved you, I always loved you!” I stared at her as she read the recept. “She ditched me when she found out the truth, and I was glad. I was fucking glad!”
