Page 85 of Conviction
I still haven’t gotten around to popping the question to Meebs. Last week was just so busy, and this week, something just seems off. Don’t ask me to put my finger on it because I’ve tried and can’t. Meebs has been unusually quiet, she’s slept in most days, hasn’t wanted to go out for dinner in the evenings and just generally doesn’t seem herself. She’s assured me she’s fine and just chilling, enjoying our time away. But I’m not stupid, I know something’s up. I had to beg her to come and surf with me today and even then, she only stayed in the water for ten minutes, choosing to watch me from the beach instead.
When I ask her Friday evening where she’d like to go for dinner, she tells me nowhere, that she has a headache and is gonna have an early night.
She went out for a walk on her own earlier, and I thought she might come back happier, but that didn’t happen. I stand out on the balcony, looking over the water for a few minutes after she leaves, and think and over think every conversation we’ve had these last few days. She was fine up until about Monday, since then, she’s just withdrawn more and more, and I’m crapping myself that all of this turn out with the press has made her change her mind about us. I can’t stand it anymore and decide to head up and ask her outright what the fuck’s going on. I can’t lose her. I won’t lose her. I’ll walk away from it all if that’s what she wants. We can move here, just her, me and the three hundred and seventy-one children I plan on us having, or maybe five. We can get married on the beach and live here. It’s actually a great place to raise a family, and the house is plenty big enough for our five kids and us.
I walk up to our bedroom, she has her music playing and Paloma Faith is singing about the fact that only love can hurt like this. Ain’t that the truth.
I catch her walking out of the bathroom. Her eyes are shining like she’s about to or has just finished crying and her face is devoid of colour. She looks terrible.
“Baby, you okay?”
Tears roll down her cheeks as she shakes her head, no. “We need to talk. I have something to tell you.”
My heart shatters, and it takes everything in me not to throw it up out of my mouth as I feel myself sway where I stand.
I’m pregnant. The one thingthat I’ve hoped and dreamed of has finally happened. It’s both the happiest and saddest day of my life. I’m about to break the heart of the man I love.
He’ll leave.
He won’t want me now.
I don’t think we’re strong enough to survive this.
I grip the pregnancy test stick in my sweaty hand and go and sit on the edge of the bed, but I can’t breathe. Panic is starting to set in, so I stand up, and Conner follows me outside to the balcony. I look out over the calm, serene water below us. The waves are lapping gently, the yachts barely bobbing with the motion. Conner leans on the railing next to me.
“You promised Meebs. Don’t do this, please don’t do this.” I can’t look at him. I don’t know how he knows. I’m assuming he’s guessed from my crazy arsed behaviour this week, or maybe he’s heard me being sick the last three mornings.
“You said as long as you had me you’d fight. Well, you’ve got me, all of me. Every fibre of my fucking being is yours, you own it, so please, just love me enough to want to stay and fight.”
My head’s pounding and spinning. I can’t think straight and don’t quite understand what he means. “Of course I’ll fight, I’ll never stop fighting for us,” I tell him.
He’s silent for a few seconds. “You’re not leaving me then?” His frown matches mine as I finally turn to look at him.
“No, of course I’m not. Why ever would you think that?”
He thought I was leaving him, he was that panicked because he thoughtIwas leavinghim.
I burst into tears. He reaches for me, but I step away before his skin makes contact with mine. I have to be able to see his face clearly when I give him this news. I need to know that whatever the outcome, he’s one hundred percent on board with this. It doesn’t matter what he wants or needs, and it most certainly doesn’t matter what I want or need, my only concern right now is the baby that I’m carrying inside me.
“I’m pregnant.” His eyes spark to life in an instant.
“What?” he laughs as he speaks.
And now I have to deliver the killer blow. “I’m pregnant, and it’s not your baby.”
I watch as his whole body moves, it’s almost identical to the movement of the waves below as he seems to roll on the spot.
“Wha… I don’t understand. What d’ya mean, it’s not my baby? What the fuck, Meebs? What does that even mean?” his eyes are all over my face as he speaks.
“I’ve been trying for a baby with Marcus for months now. We… I haven’t been using any kind of protection with him for well over a year. I told you this already.”
I hate myself for telling him. It hurts my heart so bad, and by the expression on his face, I’m hurting him too.
“But when… I thought you hadn’t slept with him in a while?”
And this is the worst part. Much worse than admitting to him that I’m pregnant, is going to be admitting to himhowI got pregnant.
“I hadn’t. We hadn’t in a while and then we did. The night I left him, we did.”
