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She finally stops and whips around. Falls to her knees again right by my face. I finally succeed in pushing myself up until we’re at eyelevel, which right now, with my dick probably three times its normal size and not for any good reason, my balls roughly the size of bloody grapefruits- the big juicy kind, is a major accomplishment. I summon what little strength I have left, blink to banish the white, flashing lights coating my vision, and croak out something that I hope Leandra can actually understand past the pain cutting through my tone, turning my words to sludge.
“I think you need to tell me a little bit more about this curse.”
Chapter 8
Leandra
Oh my freaking roasted hot dogs topped with chili and cheese sauce and jalapenos, am I seriously pregnant?
The answer to that would be yes.
Resoundingly, affirmatively, confirmed by a blood test at the hospital just now, yes.
“You had better tell me a little bit more about that curse,” Daniel says, his voice tight and high, which is probably due to the pain in his package and not because I just told him when we got back out of the our separate examination rooms and back to the waiting room, then walked out to his car in the parking lot, that I am certainly pregnant.
“The curse…” I turn in the driver’s seat- because yes, I drove us to the hospital after Daniel managed to pick himself off the greenhouse floor and get into a vertical position. I helped him to the car and took us straight here. While he was getting his- um- male bits checked out, I asked to have a pregnancy test done, even though I hate blood draws. I needed that extra bit of proof that I felt that pee couldn’t provide. “Uh- well, it’s not a bad curse. My granny got tired of us all being single, so she went and got a bunch of- um- jewellery cursed. She gave something to each of us, my brothers and my cousins. It’s supposed to help us find our soulmate.”
“Holy chicken crossing the road, please tell me that your cursed jewellery wasn’t the earrings you were wearing that night.”
Daniel adjusts the ice pack that he has wrapped in a towel over his lap. I feel really bad for him. The doctor said he was all good. The cactus didn’t manage to ruin anything, though it would seem the damage is already done. At least to me. He just has to deal with sore nuts. I’m the one with a human being growing inside of me. A totally unplanned for human being that I am certainly not prepared for, but it’s inside me all the same and nine months isn’t nearly enough time to get used to the idea that I’m going to be a mom.
I set my hand on my stomach, even though it’s ridiculous, because the baby is about the size of a speck of dust right now. I don’t even feel sick yet. My boobs don’t hurt. I pretty much have no symptoms. Maybe that’s why I didn’t clue in. But missing my period? How could I have not realized that I was four days late? To other people four days isn’t much, but to me that’s pretty monumental. I swear, time could be rewritten by the constancy of my cycle.
“No. No, those weren’t them.”
Daniel lets out a massive sigh of relief. I sigh too and grasp the wheel with both hands. “I’m lying. It was them.”
“Gah!” The ice pack slips an inch and he has to readjust it back into place. He winces when he shifts in the seat.
“Sorry. I should have just said. I wasn’t- I don’t know why I did that. Lying would have been easier. I don’t know that it makes a difference. You’re not my soulmate. I barely know you. You don’t know me either, so I guess we are going to have that conversation. The conversation where I say that I’m fully unprepared to be a mom. I’m not even sure that I ever want kids. At the same time, I’m keeping the baby. As soon as they told me I was for sure pregnant, I knew I was keeping it. If you want to, like, talk about visitation and your role in this, we can do that. There’s no need to send money. I don’t need support. If you want to bail on this, I get it. A one night stand wasn’t supposed to include lifetime consequences. You can choose whether you want to be a dad or not, since I’m not giving you that choice. Ugh, that came out wrong.” I snort and lean forward to rest of head on the wheel. I can’t look at Daniel. “You are going to be a dad technically, but if you don’t want to be one, that’s fine with me. I can do this on my own. I have family money and an established business. More than enough to get a nanny or pay for daycare while I work. My family would help out. If you don’t want to be involved, that’s okay. Please know that.”
