Remembering Sunday

The next month was a month of absolute terror.

Everytime I felt like there was a certain food that I wanted, I had a mini panic attack and thought I was leaning towards pregnancy. Seth continued to assure me that it was just my mind playing tricks on me, and as always, I felt he was right. Still, I couldn't stand living in this terror. Anything involving babies made me flinch. Any television program that I saw that had a baby in it needed to be turned off. To be honest, I think Seth was getting a little tired of my antics, but he tried his best not to show it.

The one thing that was bothering him the most was the lack of sex.

"Ugh, Laura, you're okay," he'd say evertyime I rejected him. Seth would always start off with my favorite; a quick kiss on my lips, followed by a rougher, more passionate kiss, until we were finally delved into a liplock and our hands were tangled into each other's hair. I could admit to letting it sway that far, and occasionally even farther. Sometimes he'd move down my neck with his lips, his greatest and most powerful weapon of seduction, and almost pull me right in.

But then the thought of the baby popped into my head, and I'd push him away and he'd groan with frustration.

"I just can't," I'd say, and Seth would sigh angrily and fall back onto his side of the bed. I felt awful for treating him like that, to reject him so often, but I was petrified of the thought of having another condom break on us, even if the first time Seth had claimed he hadn't come to. Neither of us were ready for a baby right now, therefore sex was going to be ruled out for a while. As long as his now high levels of testosterone didn't cause him to lash out on me, it would be okay. He'd be relieved eventually.

As for my mother and Tracy, I hadn't spoken to them since the day of Tracy's return. They called and called, even trying star sixty-seven a few times just to get me to answer, but I never did. However, Seth answered the phone one time to find Tracy, but I waved my hands frantically to tell Seth to tell Tracy I wasn't home.

Every message Tracy left on the machine was something about an apology and how she shouldn't meddle in my love life. My mother's messages, however, were not so endearing. She spoke nothing of an apology, but just about how we needed to talk and about how much trouble I was still in for speaking to her in "such a rude manner." Whatever. She still needed to realize that I was grown up and could think for myself.

For about the fourth time that day, the phone began to buzz in the kitchen of the apartment. I was curled up on the couch with Seth, the lights off and only the television supplying any light, my head nuzzled into his neck and his arm wrapped around my shoulders. I sighed and rolled my eyes, already knowing that it was Tracy. Only she would call that many times in one day, persistent on trying to receive my answer. In addition, it was nearing nine at night, so it had to be Tracy. Seth shifted beside me.

"I'll get it," he said, but I took his hand and kept him there on the couch with me.

"No, don't. It's just Tracy," I said, reclaiming my spot against him.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, twirling his fingers between my hair. "It could be someone else."

"I'm positive," I muttered. Seth sighed and nodded. Both of us turned out attention back onto the television to watch the movie showing on HBO.

Seth's arm tightened around me as the phone's annoying ring ceased. I smiled, the warmth between us quite addictive. As my eyes averted to Seth's face, I saw that he was smiling as well. He turned his gaze onto me, and his lips only seemed to pull up higher. In one swift movement, his lips were with mine and his free hand had come up to cradle my cheek. I had a feeling of what was coming, but maybe, just maybe, I'd go through with it this time. As scared as I was, it was obvious that both of us wanted it. Both of us wanted to tear each other's clothes off and roll around on the bed for however long we felt like, and tonight was probably the night Seth got lucky.

Seth's lips pressed down harder against mine, my head tilting to the side instinctively. My hands rested on the back of his neck, all of my trust being put into him. Suddenly, a weight was pressing down on me, and my eyes eased open just a tad to see what Seth was doing.

Seth had moved himself over top of me, pressing his frame against me and forcing my back into the couch. His hands traced down my torso as his lips remained with mine until he reached the hem of my tank top. Just as every guy does, his fingers tunneled under the hem and up onto my stomach, slowing escalating towards my breasts and making me shiver. However, I shivered again. Not because of his hands, but because all the fear of a baby had piled on top of me again along with Seth.

I couldn't do this.

My hands traveled away from his neck and onto his chest. Before he could see that as a sign for anything else, I pushed him up and away from me, our lips breaking apart. I gasped for air, the make out sucking the breath right out of me. Seth took a heavy breath as well, but he had a solid look of confusion plastered to his face.

"What the hell?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, Seth, but I just can't," I whispered weakly, the guilt of rejecting him yet again striking me.

"Laura, why can't you make it through just one night anymore?"
he asked, cupping his hands around my face so I couldn't look away.

"Seth, I just can't. After last time . . . well, it's just shaken me, okay?"

"I told you that you were fine! Babe, you really need to stop worrying. You aren't pregnant!"

"It's so easy for you to say that everything will be okay! But you know what, Seth? It won't, at least not for me. If I do get pregnant, I'll be affected. Sure, you will too, but you'll only be a father. Your stomach isn't going to swell to the size of a basketball and your appetite sure as hell isn't going to soar to new heights, either." I felt awful for snapping at him like this, but he needed to get the facts through his skull. When he absorbed all of my statements in, though, he was anything but happy. Seth got up from me and and the couch, his brows furrowed together in anger. I felt like crying again, but why? Usually I wasn't this emotional.

"Whatever, Laura," he muttered, and my heart hurt. I couldn't believe how angry he was getting from this! I knew sex was one of the top three needs for guys, but Seth had never struck me to be the type that was so demanding about it. Seth made his way over to the door and slipped his shoes on, automatically raising a red flag in my head.

"Seth, what are you doing?" I asked as I turned around in the couch to watch him.

"Nothing," he muttered sourly as he snatched his keys off the counter.

"Where are you going?" I asked quietly.

"Out." He slipped on his favorite black hoodie and twisted the knob. "I'll be back later."

And with that, he diappeared out the apartment door. No kiss, no goodbye, no 'I love you.' A couple tears streamed out of my eyes, thinking the end was near all over stupid sex. I didn't want Seth to leave me and I certainly didn't want to leave him, but now . . . it all seemed so possible that it could happen within a matter of seconds. I wiped my eyes quickly as a painful churn knotted my stomach. I clutched my stomach, leaned over, and groaned. Ugh, that damn nauseated feeling again.

Again? Wait a minute . . .

I'd had the same pain this morning in the pit of my stomach, and I had quickly ran to the bathroom to purge whatever it was that was coming out. However, nothing did ever come up. I was pretty sure that I had stopped it from coming and that it was just some premenstrual symptom or something. If that's what it was and my period was just around the corner, then Seth and I were fine. His wish would be granted in a matter of days! But now . . . could I really say this was a PMS symptom?

I mean, nausea had never been one of my symptoms before, and my period was running rather late this month. I jerked upward, my eyes bugging out of my head. The nausea had happened this morning, and a pregnancy symptom /was/ morning sickness. The thought made my stomach flip flop and had me jumping up and darting for the bathroom. Once I made it, I leaned my head over the toilet, held back my own hair, and all the vomit came up. Ugh. Just fucking great.

I sat up and coughed when it was all over, the tears coming from my eyes even harder than before. This couldn't be happening. I flushed the toilet and put the seat down, just letting my body lay limp against it as the crying turned to hysterics. Seth hadn't seen me this scared yet. It took me minutes, but eventually I sat up and loped to the sink to brush my teeth. The tears didn't stop. My entire body was shaking as I squeezed a glob of toothpaste onto my toothbrush.

I had to be pregnant. Had to.

My stomach was still twisting a little after I brushed my teeth, but not as violently as the first time. I needed Seth more than ever right now, but of course, he was angry with me and there was no way he would hold me in his arms. I flopped down on the couch and buried my tear stained face into the pillow. It just couldn't be . . .

Seth had said he didn't come to when we were having sex! I believed him! That had to be true! Maybe I'd just eaten some bad food yesterday night or something. That couldn't possiblly have been morning sickness, or all-day sickness, or whatever the hell you wanted to call it. I sat up from the couch, wiped my eyes again, and stood back up. There was only one way to settle this.

A pregnancy test.