AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m still all dressed up, so there is confusion on his face. My face and my gown don’t tell the same story.
I start to tell him multiple times, but each time, I break down and get to the point where only dogs can understand me.
“Come on. Let’s sit down on the couch.” He guides me, grabbing a blanket from the back of the chair and putting it around me. “I’ll be right back.”
He goes into the kitchen while I sit on the couch and cry. My wounded heart is breaking. I can barely breathe. How did it come to this?
My dad returns to the living room, carrying a tray with mugs of hot chocolate and cookies. My favorite comfort food. He sets the tray down and hands me a cup as he takes one for himself. The hot, chocolatey liquid soothes me, the tiny marshmallows softly brushing my lip with each sip. I take a deep breath, hold it, count to ten, and let it out slowly. I have done this a few times. I can feel myself calming down. I kick my shoes off and snuggle into the oversized dark chocolate cushions, wrapping the blanket tightly around me, and begin to tell my dad the whole story from the beginning.
“...and now we are in this huge fight because he thinks I was trying to hide my pregnancy from him. I don’t know what to do or where to go.” I hiccup on the last few words.
I didn’t look at my dad once throughout the whole thing because I couldn’t take a chance of seeing the disappointment I knew I would see. I would not have been able to finish it. I have always lived to make my dad proud of me. I could never stand it when I upset him. He is my role model, the one person I look up to, always. Telling him this was the hardest thing I ever had to do.
I blow out a breath and look up. My dad is staring at me. I can’t read his face.
It’s my dad’s turn to take a deep breath and blow it out. “Would you like some more hot chocolate?”
I look down at my empty mug and nod yes. I don’t care what my doctor says about my weight. This is a crisis; I can fall apart and indulge in comfort food.
My dad returns with more hot chocolate, and I await his response. Then, I wait and wait…still waiting.
“Dad, aren’t you going to say something? Anything?” I plead with my voice and my eyes.
“Honey, you're too old for me to chastise you. You know you made an error in judgment, and you don’t need me to tell you that. You need me to be supportive and caring, so tell me what I can do to help you right now.” He reaches over and holds my hand, and a fresh wave of tears pours from my burning eyes.
How can he be so calm about all of this? I lied, and now I’m pregnant, and his response is, “Let me help you.”
I don’t deserve his kindness. I put my face in my hands and sob, body-shaking sobs until I’m spent. Then, I lay my head on the giant pillow and curl up.
My voice is small. “Can I stay here for the weekend?”
“Of course, baby. Stay as long as you need to.” My dad and I sit in soothing silence, both in our worlds.
My dad gets the spare room ready for me with clean sheets and towels. He comes out and kisses me on the forehead, whispering, “Good night, angel,” before he goes to bed.
I lay here on the couch and think about Aaron. This whole thing has gotten out of control. I feel blindsided, even though I created the original lie. Neither Aaron nor I foresaw any of this. We thought we would tell a small lie, get my mom off my back, and then break it off. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. I don’t know where this went off the rails, but we are so far off from lemon squeezy we can’t even see the lemon trees.
I get up, put the mugs in the sink and the leftover cookies back in the container, and turn out all the lights. I wash my face, find my spare pajama set, change out of the gown to curl up in the fresh sheets, and close my eyes. Maybe this is a nightmare I will wake up from in the morning, and I won’t be pregnant at my dad’s house, missing Aaron.
It’s past ten when I open my eyes. The sunlight streaming in feels like a laser beam focused on my forehead. I have a horrendous headache, and my eyes feel like crusted glue. I try wiping them with my fingers before I give up, rinse my face, and clean my eyes with hot water. I search for coffee and find my dad on the couch with the television muted and the paper open.
“Is there any coffee left?” I pray the coffee god hears me.
“Yep, just made a fresh pot when I heard you moving around,” I say a quick thank you and go into the kitchen to make myself a cup. When I return, the television is off, and the paper is closed.
“Is the world on fire yet?” I chuckle. The aspirin hasn’t kicked in yet, so it hurts a little when I do that.
My dad clears his throat, “No, not on fire, just smoldering as usual.”
My dad seems fidgety. I look more closely. Something’s up.
“What's going on, Dad?” I take the remote from the table and turn the television back on.
A familiar-looking couple on the screen has a voiceless argument, oblivious to the audience surrounding them. That doesn't look good. I sit on the couch and turn up the volume.
“We interviewed some of the crowd that witnessed the argument, but all said the same thing; they heard bits and pieces but didn’t know what it was about. Crystal, back to you.”
Huh, as I begin to flip through the channels. I see another angle of the same story and almost choke on my coffee. I put the mug on the table and leaned in for a closer look at the couple. Shit. That’s Aaron and me. Holy crap. I look for my phone and find it in between the couch cushions. I have over 50 missed calls and text messages. I’m going to be sick. I run to the bathroom and lean over the bowl. A fresh set of tears begins flowing. I can’t believe this. I’m all over the news. I haven’t even checked my social media pages yet. Can’t wait to see what they say,not.
