Without You, I'm Just Me

I climbed out of the bed slowly, under the weight of my now bloated stomach, it felt like a weighed a thousand pounds. Everything took so much effort, just walking to the door was exhausting. As I trudged into the hallway, I realised I didn’t recognise this house. Had I ever been here before? Come to think of it, I couldn’t even remember the last nine months of my life, what did I miss out on? I heard a familiar voice from the next room, and moved as quickly as I could. I threw the door open, calling on the way through. “Patrick, is that you?” It was then I realised he wasn’t here at all, it was just a TV with a Fall Out Boy interview on it. Confused, I sat in front of the TV screen and watched. “After the untimely divorce of front man Patrick Stump and his heavily pregnant former wife Angie Smith, Fall Out Boy have been on a non-stop gruelling tour schedule.” I screamed in horror, as the words finally clicked. Divorce? I couldn’t even remember getting married, let alone Patrick ever suggesting divorce! It must be a mistake, I lied to myself Patrick would never leave you, especially when you’re likely to have a baby any day now. I let out a screech of pain as I collapsed to the floor. I recognised the pain immediately, I was going into labour. I let out another piercing scream, yet no one came to my rescue. I was about to give birth alone, and even I knew the likeliness of either of us surviving was unlikely.

I sat upright so quickly that I could still feel my head spinning. I could feel my skin covered in a hot layer of sweat despite the chill in the air. “Angie, are you alright?” I felt Patrick’s soft hands around me, pulling me to his chest. I let out a deep sigh of relief. It was just a nightmare, Patrick had never left me. “Yeah, it was just a nightmare.” We were back in my familiar bedroom, in my warm, comforting bed. I immediately looked down to my stomach, shrugging off the sheets. Nothing had changed, it was still impossible to actually tell that I was pregnant. I let out a sigh of relief, causing Patrick to chuckle. “What was that for? You don’t honestly think your stomach is going to grow to the full-size of a baby overnight do you?”

I let out an exhausted laugh in return. “You can’t tell me you’re not expecting the same thing. This is all so weird, I mean I’ve been told what to expect but I’m still not ready.”
He hugged me tighter. “Just remember that you don’t have to go through a single aspect of this alone, I’ll always be here to make sure everything’s going ok.”

I smiled and added jokingly. “So that’s a yes to holding my hand while I give birth?”
Patrick’s smile faded a little, and I could see the colour running from his face. “I don’t think we should be worrying about that just yet, but yes, I’ll definitely be there.” I smiled again at his reassurance before falling into another restless sleep with the same recurring nightmare.

Sleep was becoming more of a luxury than a necessity for me since the nightmares began that night last week. I started to dread the non-daylight hours each day, knowing that the nightmare would always be there waiting for when the night arrived. Although the dream was always the same. I never seemed able to wake myself before it ended in a bloodcurdling scream. Patrick started to notice my aversion to sleep. “What’s wrong? You develop insomnia or something?”
I usually shrugged it off with an unconvincing laugh, because I didn’t want to make Patrick anymore stressed out. I tried to do the same thing this time. “Probably, it’s all part of this pregnancy thing right?”
Patrick smiled, making me feel instantly guilty for having to lie to him. I knew I had to tell someone about it.

Sarah stared at me in disbelief. “That’s an awful nightmare.”
I just nodded numbly, as I watched her bite her lip nervously "What makes it even worse is that Patrick's been asking for some space lately and leaving to 'attend to important matters, it's don't you think it seems a little suspicious?
She didn't answer so I attempted to lighten the conversation. “So do you know why I’m having this nightmare? I mean is there a reason behind it?” Sarah was really into dream analysis and psychology, so I knew she’d be able to put some kind of explanation to my nightmares. She looked reluctant to answer my question, as if she were hiding something from me. “What is it?” I insisted. She turned away from me. “I’m not allowed to tell you everything, because I made a promise to secrecy. What I can tell you, is that I think your subconscious is just trying to sort through your worst fears, it really is nothing to worry about.”
I was immediately confused. “Who did you make a promise to?”
She bit her lip again, this time her words came out slower as if she wasn’t sure whether or not she could trust herself. “That’s also part of the promise: Not telling you what I promised to and who I made a promise to. He’d kill me if he knew I’d told you.”
My eyes bulged the moment I heard her mistake. “He? Was it Patrick?”
Sarah put a hand over her mouth. “SHIT! I knew I shouldn’t have said anything to begin with.”
“What did he say to you?” I demanded. Suddenly Sarah was scrambling out of the house mumbling something incomprehensible. When she had reached the door, she finally turned to face me. “He really does love you, never doubt that.” With those final words, she swiftly exited the room. I could feel a tight knot emerging in my stomach. What had he told her that was so bad that I had begun questioning his faithfulness? Surely it couldn’t be as bad as my nightmare. Could it?