I stretched my arms wide and sat up in bed. Slivers of sunshine whispered through the window, lighting up my room. I blinked, my gaze clear.
Oh sh*t fuck! Not again.
Bile rose in my throat as my belly tightened. I ran to the bathroom and leaned over the sink, coughing up all of my stomach's contents. Even though I had barely eaten for the past few days, this early morning bug wouldn't subside.
For the past three days, I've been throwing up in the mornings after I wake up. I have considered going to the doctor, but my feet always feel wobbly whenever I step out of my room, not to mention that I am leaving the house completely, and I am reminded once again that everyone out there is waiting to see me broken.
Now, though, I was tired of waking up and heaving until my throat was raw. My stomach clenched one last time, and I heaved out nothing.
Once the feeling of nausea reduced, I sank onto the toilet, breathing out. My body shook, and a chill ran up my arms. I groaned. What was wrong with me? Am I going to die for skipping meals? Or did I get any deadly diseases from Gabriel? He doesn't look like someone who would carry STDs and be moving around.
Not like he would write it on his forehead or something.
Pulling myself up, I rinsed out the sink, brushed my teeth, and washed my face. My flushed, wet reflection stared back at me in the mirror, as clueless as I was.
I sighed and reached into the top cabinet for a face towel when my eyes fell on a pack of tampons. I paused. When last did I have my period? Wasn't that fucking a sign of—no way!
I abandoned the towel and raced for my phone. My tracker app had my period dates and future estimated dates all recorded. I checked, and oh God!
My Eyes grew impossibly wide as I gawked in disbelief
I stared in a catatonic stupor at my phone.
I am weeks late. My heart skipped, and I had to swallow hard, the certainty of the possibility dawning hard on me. Was I pregnant?No, no fucking no. My life can't get harder already.
This could be a hormonal imbalance. My period sometimes gets delayed, so it might be the same now.
I can't possibly get pregnant. I was a virgin until that very night, and... Oh sh*t! It's just once.
I breathed out heavily; there was no need to panic. I breathed in... one... two... three, and out...one... two... three.
Well, I am just deceiving myself because this doesn't work on me anymore.
I'd just get myself a good meal and stop stressing my mind and body. I will move on with my life, and then everything will return to normal.
None of this calmed my nerves. I quickly washed up and dressed in a boyfriend jean trouser and baggy top. Something that would cover me up in case I am...
No, I am not.
The hospital wasn't really far from my house, but I purposely went a bit farther to the one no one knows who I was.
I waited patiently until the result came out, and I hastened up to bring them back home.
Once I got home, I kicked off my shoe, flew my bag to the bed, and went straight to the bathroom.
Hands shaking, breath uneven, I sank onto the toilet seat and unwrapped the pregnancy test results.
"Please, don't be positive," I whispered to the white paper. Whooshing out a breath, I glanced quickly through it. I didn't see the exact place I should check. I made up my mind to open it and see whatever fate had for me.
"Oh God! " A faint moan left my mouth. I didn't plan to have a child.
. My head spun as I left the cool bathroom and returned to my bed's warm comfort, but that didn't ease my racing heart. I drew my knees up and held the text.
The positive was still there. Not ever turning negative like I wish.
It failed to change and prove to me that all of this was an awful dream. I was still pregnant.I looked at my flat, Tommy. I can't possibly give birth when I am struggling to feed myself.
I wanted to call Mrs. Winter again, but I didn't think she would be of any help to me.
She'd said told me yesterday that as long as I wasn't pregnant or contract any STDs, I would be fine. I guess I will never be fine now.
I picked up my phone and then went on to my contact list. I dialed Gabriel's number. The one I got from his card that evening
. "Hello, welcome to ChickVougue's design. How may I help you?" a female voice answered. I recognized the voice, of course. It was Clara's secretary.
I can't believe I don't even have atleast the number of my baby's daddy. Yeah I know. I am so pathetic.
I took out my laptop. And searched for Gabriel Fernandez. I saw him there on the internet, not smiling, and still a monster he is, however I don't know why I annoyingly find him so hot?
I scrolled down and damn! He looks so good in a suit and is super hot with sunglasses. I didn't see more pictures. Only three pictures on the internet? I find it hard to believe anyone in this day and age could keep all photos of themselves off the internet.
Then I saw his email. I quickly clicked on it and started to type.
'Good day, Mr. Fernandez. I hope you are...' I cleared the text. I felt like I sounded so informal. I started to type again.
'Hello, Mr. Fernandez. This is Ava Williams. I will go straight to the point.If you wanted to let me down, then do it slowly, you could spare me a little sympathy and come and claim your child. I have your child growing in my stomach, and I know you would want to offer me lots of money to get rid of it. But I am really scared. and sorry. I can't kill an innocent child.
From Ava Williams.
I clicked on the send button and covered my laptop. He would definitely get it, and I bet he wouldn't want to ruin his reputation any more. Our scandal should have been enough. He would definitely come for me and his child.
Five hours and fifty-five email checking moments later, it dawned on me that I might never get a reply.
Maybe my stepmom was right. My life was already fuvked up, and bearing a child now would make it more miserable. Perhaps I could consider killing two birds with one stone—saving my father's life and protecting my baby from being a real bastard.
I stared at my contact list, my mind constantly warning me.
I can't believe I'm considering this.
But I had no job and nothing to lose. except my dream Unfortunately, the dreams might pay the bills, but they wouldn't hide my pregnancy or father my baby.
Then, before I could second-guess myself, I dialed her number.
"Its Ava, I will consider the marriage " I said, my tone showed how unsure I was about my decision.
**
The wedding was held five days later, and it was after I signed the contract that I found out that my husband was in a persistent vegetative state.