Page 118 of One Secret

I'm reminded of my mother. How she placed all of her significance, all of her self-worth, into whomever she was attached to at the time. And yet, I've been determined to follow a different path. Perhaps to my detriment.

"Is that why you keep your relationships short?... to prove you can be alone?"

'You've never found your mother?' I ask, after a while.

'Never,' Cyrus's tone is lighter, now. Like his confessions has offloaded a painful, guilty weight from his shoulders. 'Not that I want to,' he adds. 'Like I said, I went the other way to you and cut both my parents from my life. I'm not interested in understanding why a parent gives up their child. Or why someone would ignore their kid until they're of benefit to them.'

The sharp knife of guilt stabs at my chest.

'I'm sorry,' I confess.

'It was a long time ago.'

'No, I mean…' I choke on my words and Cyrus's attention sharpens. He turns to face me, properly, leaning his shoulder into the mattress. 'I mean, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. About me being pregnant.'

I look him in the eye and something passes between us. Something intense and concrete.

'I judged you,' I admit. 'We'd both made it so clear that this thing between us isn't something real that I assumed you would hate the idea of a child. Like you said before, we were careful. We did everything right. You didn't deserve to have this mess up your life.'

Cyrus is quiet for a moment. Then he takes my hand, interlocking our fingers and sending darts of trembling pleasure up my arm.

'I said that this is casual,' he tells me. 'Not that it isn't real.'

My tongue goes dry and my heart thumps erratically.

'Even so,' he goes on. 'Don't you think I should have known? Even if I'm a terrible paternal choice, don't you think I deserve to know if I've fathered a kid?'

That knife digs a little deeper, twists a little sharper.

'In most cases, I'd agree.' I keep my head down and begin to fiddle with the hem of the pillow. 'But I tried to imagine my kid in the future asking me about her father. I thought that telling her you had no idea she existed was a lesser of two evils, rather than explaining how you didn't want her.' I steel myself to meet Cyrus's eye again. 'I made my decision based on what I thought she deserved. Not you. I don't take back that choice. But I am sorry it hurt you. And that I judged you poorly whilst making it.'

Cyrus swallows.

'You keep saying "she",' he says. There's a tremble in his touch. 'It's a girl?'

I shake my head with a smile.

'No idea. Too soon to tell. I just always imagine it to be a girl.'

'And you're sure she's all right?' Cyrus's hand hovers towards my middle, suddenly shy to touch what he's so easily caressed before. 'After... everything?'

For the last two hours, I've kept my dread at bay. I've crushed it into as small a speck as I can manage and locked it somewhere safe in the back of my head. I've had to.

Now, with someone I trust stepping up to shoulder that fear…

To hear Cyrus refer to her as "she"...

It all becomes very real… and very terrifying.

'Honestly...?' My voice sounds thready and I have to clear my throat. 'God, honestly Cyrus, I have no idea.'

I let my head fall into the pillow, face first, in an attempt to smother tears. I free my mouth from the padding just enough to take deep and calming breaths.

There's nothing you can do right now, I remind myself. Nothing you can change. Don't make it worse by stressing… But the words come bubbling out of me like anxiety-poison expelled from a wound.

'I... I don't remember taking any hits to my... to my stomach. But what if I'm not remembering right? I... I'm not far enough along to feel any movement, so how am I supposed to tell?'

The only way to know for sure would be to ask a physician or read a heartbeat on a monitor.

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