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“Hey,” he said, voice smooth and assuring and honied. “Your partners told me that you went home sick today.”
Something in my face must have crumpled, because he set the things down and came right over to me, enveloping me in his warm, strong embrace.
“Hey there, what’s wrong, baby? You must be feeling really out of it, huh?”
God, he was so sweet, so perfect, and I had ruined everything. All of the stress in me, all of the worry and hormones came bubbling up and the next thing I knew I was sobbing into his chest.
“Hey, hey there. It’s gonna be okay. I’m right here. I’m right here for you baby.”
But all I could do was cry, frustrated with myself, frustrated with my situation, and frustrated with my stupid biology. If only I didn’t have migraines from the moment, I hit puberty, none of this would have happened. And why hadn’t I known that my birth control was only ninety percent effective? If I had, I would have made sure that he always wore a condom, no matter what.
I just felt so stupid, so irresponsible, and it was entirely overwhelming.
“It’s going to be alright, Amber. I got you. I’ve got you.”
The next thing I knew, I was being swept up in his arms and carried over to my couch. I was a big woman, and it was always a bit wild to me how easily he could cart me about. It was enough to make the worst of my sobs taper off, tears quietly rolling down my cheeks as he wrapped me in a blanket and set me in his lap.
“What’s going on, beautiful?”
I had to tell him. I had wanted to sleep, and think on it, and do a whole host of things, but I needed to tell him. He was so good to me, so honest. Even if he left me, he needed to know.
“I, uh, I’ve been feeling kind of run down lately,” I whispered, forcing myself to calm down and breath.
“Yeah, I did notice that. And I was wondering if maybe we should get away for a bit. Nothing too complicated, but maybe a weekend trip to the beach? When was the last time we got a real break?”
Ugh, his thoughtfulness had new tears welling up and I had to shake my head. “Let me finish Mickey, then you can plan whatever you want.”
“Alright,” he stroked my hair and I nuzzled into the point of contact. If this was the last time he ever held me, I wanted to cherish it. To burn it into my mind. “Take as much time as you need.”
Well I couldn’t do that, otherwise I would be sitting in his lap, all curled up in his warmth until we were both skeletons. “I… I threw up today so I went to the doctor and I found out I was, that I am…” oh well, might as well dive in with both feet, right? Just rip the band aid right off. “I found out that I’m pregnant.”
I felt every bit of him go incredibly still, muscles coiled just under his tanned skin. He stayed quiet for a long moment, and when he did speak, his voice was measured and careful.
“And how do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered, a little encouraged by the fact that he wasn’t freaking out. “Guilty. Scared. Overwhelmed.”
“None of those are very nice things.”
“No… they aren’t,” I admitted. “I don’t feel very nice at all right now.”
“If that’s the case, you know you don’t have to…” he trailed off and I could tell his voice was pained as he spoke. “You don’t have to go through with this. If you don’t want to. I’ve seen you take your birth control. I know that you didn’t try to plan this or trick me.”
So much of the fear in me drained out, but there was still worry in the pit of my stomach. “Do you… do you want me to end it?”
He tipped his head down, pressing a feather-light kiss to my forehead. “I want you to do whatever it is you want. I know that this could throw a hitch in your career. And I’m under no illusion about how dangerous it is to have a kid in America.”
“Yeah, I looked it up when I was in the office. You know we have the worse maternity care of any first world country?”
“Actually, yes. One of my cousins didn’t make it through her labor and it was entirely avoidable. After that happened, I did a lot of research and it was… discouraging to say the least.” Another feather-light kiss. He was so kind to me. I didn’t deserve it. “So, like I said, if you don’t want this, you don’t have to go through with it.”
“And if I did want it?” I asked tentatively. Because I could feel a connection forming between me and all the thoughts of what it would be like to raise a tiny soul. To have such an intimate part of Mickey grow inside of me. To have physical proof of his love, along with someone else to share my love with.
