“This is stupid… I’m not pregnant.”
“You have to pee on this bit and put the lid back on… Do you need me to come in and help?”
“Really? Help me pee on a stick?” I frown at him and he sort of shrugs. Ever since he went for this
damn thing at stupid o’clock, he has practically harassed me nonstop to do it already. I want to go to
bed and be left alone.
I think he’s read the instructions a dozen times and I take it from him roughly and roll my eyes.
“Maybe you should do the test, as sometimes, I think you are definitely the girl in this relationship.” I
huff at him in irritation so done with this topic now and turn to head for the bathroom. Quicker I get this
over and done with, the quicker I can get to bed and go to sleep, and he can shut up once and for all.
It’s not easy to pee when your beloved is talking through the door at you trying to give direction and
offer advice on balancing while peeing. I tell him to shut up and leave me to do it, almost urinating on
my own hand in the process. I’m tired, still nauseous, and groggy brained. It’s almost dawn and I need
to lay down.
When I am done I put the lid on and wash both my hands and it, in the sink for fear I may have peed
everywhere I shouldn’t have and leave it sitting on the edge of the bowl and go back out. He may
annoy me sometimes, but I know the germaphobe in him would appreciate that I took time to rinse it off
for him.
“Where is it?” Arry looks me up and down as though I may have bodily concealed it for him, and I sigh
again.
“In there, on the sink… Knock yourself out. I cleaned it for you, so yes you can go cuddle it close if you
like.” I push past him with a hand to his abs and go off in search of a warm comfy bed, so I can finally
sleep. He can go play with his piss stick and worry himself over nothing. I am not getting involved.
“There’s a spare one for you, baby… I recommend you check you’re not actually the pregnant one.” I
call after him when he disappears into the bathroom and doesn’t come back out. I head out to the
kitchen for a glass of water to take to bed with me, yawning as I go. Wiped out and still under the
weather.
I spend a few minutes in the kitchen filling my glass with ice and bottled water and head back into the
lounge. I’m startled to see Arrick sitting on the couch, forward with his elbows on his knees and staring
blankly at that yucky test in his hands.
“Eww… You could have waited in the bathroom with that. Are you seriously going to stare at it for the
full however many minutes you need to wait?” I sigh and sit down beside him, trying to ignore his
weirdness for once and feeling more bewildered than annoyed with him.
“You’re pregnant.” He says it so softly, almost inaudibly, that I think I misheard him.
“What?” I frown at him with a half-smile and give him a shove, thinking he’s trying to wind me up and
being stupid. “Shut up” I giggle and take a sip of my water, while watching that crazily non-emotional
face of his.
Arrick doesn’t react, stays stock still for a moment then runs a hand through his hair in agitation and
repeats it.
“Sophie… You’re pregnant.” His voice is still that same shocked low and tight tone and I look at him
properly this time.
He looks ashen faced, pale, and serious and I realize this is not a joke. My stomach drops about fifty
feet in one second and my breath catches in my lungs.
“Let me see.” I snatch it from him and pull it over to look for myself. Almost choking when I see it there
in black and white, tiny digital words on a little screen.
Pregnant
2-3 weeks
“What the actual fuck?” I blurt out and stare at it, blind to my surroundings yet I know he hasn’t moved
either. “It’s wrong or faulty. I should take the other one.” I get up way too fast and spill my water as
dizziness knocks me off balance. Arrick catches me by my naked thighs and steadies me, before
sliding up to stand on front of me with a look of complete fear on his face. This is the last thing on gods
holy earth I ever saw coming.
“What are we going to do?” Arry breathes out in the same tone as me and we both seem to stare down
at the dumb plastic rod in my hand at the same time.
“It has to be wrong… How many did you buy? I’ll do it again.” I turn on him almost accusingly and he
frowns at me.
“Another two… Come on.” He takes my glass and puts it on the table, grabs my hand to pull me with
him to the bathroom.
***
All three tests say the same exact thing and are laid out on the comforter in a horrific row as we both
stand staring at them from beside the bed.
“Fuckity, fuck, fuck.” I am in full panic mode and gawping at the little tiny words in front of us. I don’t
have any emotion other than terror right now.
“That’s an understatement.” Arrick is having as much of a hard time of this as me and I turn to him in
complete deflation.
“What are we going to do?” I’m clinging to his arm like a crazy person, free falling as panic and fear
grips me, and I have no clue how to feel.
“Have a baby.” Arrick says it so weirdly like he too is trying to come to terms with this and I slap him in
the shoulder. Instant anger at how dumb he is sometimes.
“Don’t be so fucking stupid… We are getting married! I still have a year of school to go and we don’t
even have a kid friendly apartment or place for a baby in it. Our life has no place for a fucking kid” It’s a
mind fart of epic proportions, anger bursting out of me because I simply do not know how to process
this or react. I think I may be in shock, but he stares at me like I’m insane.
“You have another plan? Because there is no chance in fucking hell will you get rid of my baby,
Sophie… I can’t even…” he lifts his hands in agitation and storms away from me, suddenly bristling
anger for a guy who five seconds ago didn’t even want a kid. I throw one of the tests at him in
frustration and it whizzes past his head as he starts to walk out of the room. So much energy coursing
through me as my heart palpitates and my blood runs cold. I can’t think straight, I can barely breathe.
“I didn’t fucking say that… I’m scared, Arrick… I don’t know how to feel or react.” The tears hit me hard,
sobbing the last word and he turns back to me, dropping angry in a nanosecond and comes straight
back to me to wrap me in his arms. Soothing me with hugs and holding me tight.
“I am too, this is a shock for both of us and the last thing either of us needed. We need to not kill each
other in the process of getting used to this idea. I think we need to let it sink in.”
I start to sob loudly and bury my face in his shirt. It just feels like everything has fallen apart in one fell
swoop.
“I don’t want a baby.” Heart breaking that this is happening and seeing everything we planned, falling to
shit around our ears. My life will be over, my career, my dreams, my hopes. We are barely okay as it is
and only starting to fix the way we drifted apart, all this will do is end me.
“It wasn’t exactly my first goal of the day either, but this is happening.” Arry squeezes me tightly and
then seems to go rigid. All those little bells start ringing and I look up at him in questioning panic.
“Sophie… There’s something else…” His voice, the way he says it like something dawned on him and I
glance up, blinking away my tears.
“What?” My voice breaks, I don’t think I can take anymore shock right now.
“You can’t fly again, not until you pass the first trimester… When Emma was pregnant it’s all Jake kept
going on about. You have to stay in Paris until it’s safe to fly.”
“What are you talking about? Why? What the fuck is a first trimester?” My head is not even computing
the last ten minutes of pissing on sticks and he’s talking about what? Olympic sports?
“If your less than a month gone… Then that’s another two months here minimum. The first trimester is
your first three months, when it can hurt the baby. I need to be back in New York in two weeks
Sophie… You’re going to have to stay here and see a Gyno in Paris until we can take you home.”
“I do not fucking think so!”
This is not happening; this is not my life!
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