Do You Think You're Up For This?

“Your actions have consequences, and these are them.” – The Starting Line

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I can’t do this.

I’m not ready.

I can’t do this.

I’ve been lying in bed for the past few hours, unmoving ever since I took the fateful test.

I have a box of tissues on my left and my phone on my right, but I can’t bring myself to call anyone. Not Michael, not Suzie, not even my own mom.

I bury my face in Michael’s pillow. It quickly gets damp with my tears, but I can’t seem to stop the flow. I hug it for comfort, even though it’s stopped smelling like him and his shampoo by now.

He and William come home from an acoustic tour tomorrow. Nice surprise, huh?

How was tour, Michael? Oh, that’s great. Guess what? There’s a half-Australian almost-baby inside of me. By the way, do you want to order take out for dinner?

Michael.

How am I supposed to tell him?

I’m still trying to figure out how it happened.

We’re careful, we’re always careful. I’m on the pill, for Christ’s sake!

I’m still trying to figure it out when I’m startled by my phone ringing.

It’s him, and I vaguely register that I probably just stupidly stopped taking it at some point, too wrapped up in newlywed bliss to care and too preoccupied with him leaving to notice, and that’s what started this mess. With my luck and forgetfulness, of course, this happens.

I take a few deep breaths, trying to settle down before speaking into the receiver.

“Michael?” I ask, but my voice comes out as a dry and throaty from so much crying.

“Rae?” he replies, sounding concerned. I clear my throat so he won’t suspect anything.

“Sorry, I was sleeping,” I say. At least, I was trying. As if I could possibly sleep right now. My voice is still a little hoarse.

“Oh,” he says. “Sorry, you sound tired. I didn’t realize-”

“It’s okay. I just…I miss you,” I add, so he won’t question me any further.

“One more day,” he replies happily.

“One more day,” I breathe back, temporarily calmed by the reassurance in his steady voice.

“Listen, I want to take you out somewhere nice tomorrow, okay?” he asks, after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

I nod absently, forgetting that he can’t see me.

“Sounds great,” I say, trying to sound excited for his sake.

“We can go to that restaurant downtown that you like,” he suggests.

“Sure.”

“Rae, I – sorry, hold on,” he says. I vaguely hear Bill’s voice in the background. “We have a sound check now, so I have to go,” he says apologetically, coming back on the line. “I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Okay. Good luck. I love you.” I hang up and close my eyes in exhaustion. With the absence of his voice, I feel overwhelmed all over again.

What am I going to do?

But I already know one thing.

I’m without a doubt keeping it. It was my mistake, so I’m just going to have to deal with it. It just wouldn’t feel right to me to even think about getting rid of it, especially now that I’m married. I know Michael will want me to keep it too. We had obviously discussed kids, and we planned on having them.

Just not this soon and especially not with this horrible timing.

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Michael

I pay the cab driver and then step out of the taxi with my suitcase. All the sound equipment and my guitars are at William’s right now so I can pick everything up later this week, when I have time.

I enter our building and take the elevator up to our apartment’s floor. I dig around in my jean pockets for my keys for a minute before I realize they’re in my jacket.

I push the door open, dragging my suitcase inside and setting it right by the entrance.

“Michael?” I hear her ask, and then she appears in the doorway of the living room.

I smile so widely at the sight of her that it hurts and I quickly cross the room to pick her up in a hug.

I haven’t seen her in almost a month. I’ve missed her so much, I can’t even describe it.

I spin her around once before kissing her intensely, feeling her arms hug my middle tightly. She presses her face into my chest and I pull her even closer, resting my face in her hair and inhaling the scent of her shampoo. I immediately notice she’s breathing deeply, as if she might be crying.

I let go and step back to check. Her eyes are sparkling a bit, but she smiles up at me anyway, and is quick to pull my face closer to hers for another kiss. I’m not complaining, but I get the small feeling that she might be worried about something and not telling me.

I don’t press her on it, though. I’m just so happy to see her that I figure it can wait.

“Should we get ready to go?” I ask her instead.

She nods, still smiling. She quickly turns to lead the way to the bedroom.

She doesn’t realize that I’ve noticed she’s rubbing her wrist, her nervous habit strangely returning.

I haven’t seen her do that in a long time.

It makes me feel uneasy.

Something has to be wrong.