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Chapter Forty-Two
It was now fast approaching the end of March. Things had been pretty shitty. I was still struggling to get my head around everything. Particularly the pregnancy.
For years I’d longed to have a child, and yet now that it was actually happening, rather than feeling on top of the world, I just wanted to hide under the duvet for the next five months.
It’s all a mess.
I had my dating scan last week. Something that I’d hoped would be one of those idyllic moments. Lorenzo would hold my hand as we gazed lovingly at the ultrasound screen whilst the sonographer confirmed that everything was fine. We’d squeal with joy and Lorenzo would wrap his arms around me, tell me how much he loved me and shower me with kisses, as we happily pictured the beginnings of our family.
We’d then walk arm in arm to the taxi and I’d clutch the coveted ultrasound photo firmly in my hand. The photo that I’d seen so many mums-to-be post on social media before me. I’d always wondered if it would ever be me, and now after all the wishing and longing, I was finally about to become a mother.
But that was just a dream. The reality was that I went alone, and as I left, I tucked the scan photo safely away in my bag, which now lay hidden away in my bedroom drawer.
It had been almost six weeks since I’d last heard from Lorenzo. In truth, it felt like six years. I still longed for him every single second of every day.
Rather than being strong and in control Sophia, I’d spent most nights sobbing into my pillow. So much for never being able to cry. Now my eyes were like leaking taps. I couldn’t seem to stop the waterworks from flowing.
And even though I had tried to focus on work, the comfort blanket that normally cured all ills, it just wasn’t helping. When I managed to crawl out of bed and make my way in, I spent most of the time locked away in my office. Firstly because I was frequently throwing up (why they call it morning sickness when it happens throughout the day, I do not know), but mainly because, as I had realised, even if you give yourself a million ‘pull yourself together’ pep talks, sometimes deep, raw emotions cannot be controlled.
No matter how hard I tried to fight it, my thoughts would always turn to Lorenzo. I just couldn’t understand why he’d left. It didn’t make sense for him to disappear like that. Especially when I believed with every fibre of my being that he loved me. How did I get it so wrong?
Every time a notification sounded on my phone, I’d hope it was him, but it never was.
My head was constantly spinning. On the one hand, I knew Lorenzo was the man I wanted to be with, but how could I rationalise that when he’d deserted me so spectacularly?
Could he not handle the responsibility of being a father? Was it because he didn’t want to commit himself to living in London, or to me?
Was it the way I had broken the news to him? Perhaps I should have thought about it more. Chosen my words more carefully. It would have been a lot for him to take in. Particularly as I couldn’t be one hundred percent sure that he was the father. How would he feel if the baby wasn’t his?
When he’d told me he needed time, should I have contacted him sooner rather than waiting until that Saturday before going to see him? But equally, shouldn’t he have called to say he was leaving or explained how he was feeling so that we could discuss any concerns he had? I just didn’t get it.
For weeks, I also felt bad because of Charlie. I should have just ended it with him cleanly, instead of wimping out and saying that I needed more time. Although technically, yes, we had been ‘on a break’, deep down, I had known he wasn’t the one for me, so rather than making him think there was some hope, when things had started progressing with Lorenzo, I should have told him outright that there definitely wasn’t a future for us.
The way Charlie had looked at me when he’d stormed out of Lorenzo’s flat haunted me. The glare of disgust and disappointment as his eyes burned into my skin. He couldn’t get out of there and as far away from me as possible quickly enough.
I considered leaving it alone. Letting Charlie just move on and forget about me. But of course, it was no longer just about me. There was a baby to consider. A baby that still could be his. And if it was, it was important that Charlie is involved. I wanted us to be on good terms. So I called him. After several attempts, he answered and reluctantly agreed to meet face-to-face.
I apologised for any pain that I’d caused and tried to explain that hurting him was the exact opposite of what I’d intended.
Charlie graciously accepted my apology. He said that whilst he did not condone my actions and was still appalled at the speed at which I’d moved on, as we couldn’t change the past and Lorenzo was now permanently out of the picture, the important thing was to focus on the future.
If the baby was his, Charlie assured me that it would want for nothing. He or she would have the best. He said we’d need to work closely as a ‘unit’ to raise it.
I couldn’t be sure, but at times, the way he looked at me and spoke about ‘us’ and ‘our baby’ did make me wonder whether he had ideas of us reconciling. This, of course, sent my overthinking into overdrive and caused me to consider if I should try again with Charlie.
As my friends with kids have always told me, raising another human being is no walk in the park. So if Charlie was still interested, wouldn’t it be stupid to turn down that stability and the opportunity of being with a kind, caring man who was willing to share that enormous responsibility with me? Yes, I’d be unhappy, but isn’t making sacrifices what parents do all the time? Even if it means staying in a loveless relationship ‘for the sake of the children’?
I’d quickly come to my senses and reminded myself that I’d already wasted too much of my life when I’d settled with Rich. And I’d also concluded that I was just imagining that Charlie wanted anything more than to do the right thing and be a good father.
Eventually, I had to be honest with myself. I could try to do this alone, which was what I’d planned to do when I’d set the MAP goal of looking into adoption, but I’d prefer not to. I wanted to be with Lorenzo. I wanted to raise this baby with him.
When we were together, everything just felt right. I felt alive. At ease. Deliriously happy. Like being beside him was where I was supposed to be. Just thinking about him made my heart beat faster.
But he was also the man who, on paper, was the illogical option. A troubled man. A man who had seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth.
The last time I looked (which, true to myobsessively checking WhatsAppform, had been barely an hour ago), he hadn’t been seen online since the day I’d told him I was pregnant.
Lorenzo’s non-existent contact was his way of telling me that it’s over. That he didn’t want to be with me. That he didn’t want to be a father.
Somehow I had to face the fact that Lorenzo had gone and I would never see him again.
