Infinite

When the doctor knocked and stepped inside, she looked incredibly worried. She side-stepped through the narrow doorway and pushed it closed behind her.

"Atticus," she greeted as I sat up on the crinkling paper, "Diane told me that you started throwing up when you were speaking with Ronnie," she said, her eyebrows knitting together, "What happened? How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, really," I answered, watching as she reached for rubber gloves and pulled them on, "I think it was just a mix of flying and stress. It's passing now, I'm alright."

"That's possible," she agreed to my explanation, "but go ahead and lay back and I'm just going to press on your stomach. If you need to throw up, there's a garbage on the left of the bed."

I lay back with my arms at my side as she pushed and prodded against my abdomen. I focused on the feel of it rather than her and stared at the ceiling as I began to feel better. My eyes closed and I tried to blink away the fatigue, but the lights seemed brighter and I shut them quickly, eyes watering against the sting.

"Have you been tired a lot lately?" the doctor questioned, reaching for my hand to help me sit up.

I shrugged. "No more than usual, I don't think," I replied, thinking back to the early mornings with Arch, "There's just a lot going on right now."

She nodded and turned to wash her hands in the sink. "You said that you left your son at home," she answered over the sound of the water hitting the metal and whooshing down the drain, "That must be tough to be away from him, especially for something like this. I'm assuming that Ronnie's not his father."

"He's adopted," I answered, "It's kind of a complicated situation." I pressed the palms of my hands into my knees and watched as she rifled through the drawers, searching for something specific.

"That’s awesome," she replied as she bent down to check the bottom drawer, "He's your only one? You don't have any biological children?"

"Nope, just Arch."

She straightened up and set whatever it was that she had on the counter just behind her, her body blocking it from sight, whether intentionally or unintentionally, I wasn't sure. She clasped her fingers together as she formulated her words, and then she spoke, "I have a couple of questions to ask you, Atticus," she said, "As a doctor, I'm hoping you can feel safe enough to give me honest answers."

I frowned. "What is it?"

Her ponytail swung over her shoulder and she rolled her stool over and sat down below me, her expression now cautious. "How long has Ronnie been on tour?" she questioned, stunning me entirely.

"What does that have to do with anything?" I responded with confusion, "I don't understand."

"Please, Atticu-"

"Since February," I answered quickly so that she would tell me what this all was about, "He left on the sixteenth and is done around August twelfth."

She frowned just enough for me to notice it and then re-clasped her hands. "Atticus, have you had sex in the last couple of months?" she asked professionally, staring at me seriously, waiting.

"I - " I stuttered, shaking my head as I tried to clear my thoughts and understand what she was saying. The answer and the real question came to mind, but I wasn't willing to accept it. I turned my dark eyes back to hers. "Are you asking me if I could be pregnant?"

She stood up. "I think it's a possibility," she said, "You've begun throwing up for no reason, you're nauseated and dizzy, and I can clearly see that you're fatigued, probably sleeping more than usual but too stressed out to notice. Did you have your period for last month?"

"I'm on birth-control," I answered, shaking my head, "I have been since I was a teenager. I - there's no way. I'm just stressed."

"Atticus, there's swelling in your lower abdomen that's consistent with early pregnancy." She reached back and grabbed a cup encased in sterile plastic. "Please, let us just run a test. If you are pregnant, you need to know so that you have options and so that you can start making the right choices for your body and your baby."

"I'm not pregnant," I argued, jumping down from the examination table, "It's not possible, Doctor Mehmet. Ronnie's been away on tour, and I haven't slept with anyone else, and I've been on birth control since I was seventeen years old."

"Atticus, I understand that you're not ready for this but if you are then you need to accept it and make the right choice, if you ignore the possibility then you could be hurting yourself and your child," she said desperately, holding out the container again, "Please. It will only take a couple of hours to get the results."

"No, I won't," I rebutted, stepping to the door, "I appreciate your concern, but I know my body and I'm not pregnant. I'm not having a baby and Ronnie's not going to be a father because it's impossible."

I turned and opened the door, leaving her standing in there alone as I headed back across the floor over to Ronnie's room. I pushed the door open and he looked concern, his eyes trying to read my mind.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

I nodded and walked around his bed to grab my jacket. "I'm going to run to the hotel and get cleaned up," I answered, not meeting his eyes, "I'll be back later, alright? Don't be any trouble."

He was sitting up in bed. "Atticus, wait," he shouted, "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

I stopped and turned to look at him. Even hurt he was incredibly beautiful. His hair was a complete mess and the bruise spanning his eye and forehead was a nasty color, but he was still Ronnie, still gloriously beautiful and wildly untamed. He was still the man who lived for his dreams and I felt sick as I nodded, plastering some semblance of a smile onto my face.

"I'm fine," I replied, calming myself down so that he would believe it, "I'm just stressed out and embarrassed. I'm just heading back to yell at the guys, clean up, and take a nap. I'll be back later to check on you, I promise."

“Atticus, stop,” he demanded, so obviously used to me that I couldn’t fool him with just a few calmer words. He was trying to sit up when he called out to me again.

I pushed my eyes closed as I turned my face away from him, trying to build up the resistance that would allow me to walk out without another word. But he groaned as he jostled his injuries, and my strength was lost to the sound of his pain.

“Stop,” I demanded as I turned back and moved to help him lay down again, “You can’t get up, you know that.”

He allowed me to lay him back down, but his eyes were watching mine as I tried not to look him in the face. “You can’t just walk out on me like that,” he rebutted.

I stepped a foot back from his bed and lightly folded my arms over my chest. “I’m fine, Ronnie. Just too stressed out. You know I don’t handle it well.”

“That’s why I’m worried,” he answered, dark eyes calculating, “Because you’re usually a rock. Through everything you’ve always been tough and you’re usually the one holding me together, so when you start getting sick because you’re too stressed out, I’m going to worry about you, Atti.”

“I just can’t handle all of this,” I answered, finally looking at him, “I’m not strong, I’ve never been strong. But it’s always been easier to get through everything and now everyone expects me to look out for you and take care of you, but you’re not mine anymore, Ronnie. It’s too hard to be here.”

“Maybe because of this you’ll realize how fucking stupid it all is,” he shot viciously, “I know you still love me, no matter what you say, and you’re the only woman who I’ve ever loved like this. We’re not over and you know it, so stop making yourself sick over it.”

“No, I’m sick because of all of this,” I answered, waving my hands in the air, “Because I’m fighting you about everything. If you would just let go, Ronnie, we could both move on.”

“I’m not moving on,” he replied, “ever, and deep down you don’t want to either. Fighting against yourself is making you sick so stop it right now.”

“You can’t just say that. You can’t just throw out some reason that fits to what you want it to be and demand that I stop!” I argued, getting angry because of how stubborn he could be, “You can’t just bend the whole world to fit your needs, Ronnie. It doesn’t work that way. I’m sick because I’m stressed out, not for any other reason. I don’t care what you say and I don’t care what the doctor said, I threw up because I’m stuck dealing with all this bullshit right now.”

He didn’t answer back right away and it seemed that his anger was gone and replaced with something else. He pushed himself up in bed and frowned, his dark eyes meeting mine. “Atticus,” he said softly, almost as though he was trying to break through my anger, “What did the doctor say?”

“It was stress,” I answered before I really considered what I’d just said before. I pressed my lips together and looked at him confidently when I realized that I’d just contradicted myself.

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he seethed, his tone eerily dark, “I want to know what’s wrong with you, right now.”

This was the side of Ronnie that terrified me. It was linked with worry and concern and I could see all of that just brimming in his eyes, but frenetic anger was the most dominant and all he wanted was to know the truth behind my lie. I shook my head, looking at him, and then answered, “It’s confidential, Ronnie. I don’t have to tell you what her opinion was and she can’t tell you either, so don’t ask.”

He was slightly taken-aback by my answer, but he still argued. “Atticus, you’ve always been able to tell me everything that’s ever been wrong with you. You’ve never been sick like this before for no reason, please, I’m fucking terrified.”

His eyes were dark and worried and it made me nervous that he was scared for me. The words that the doctor said just kept repeating themselves in my head and I tried to shake them out as I replied to Ronnie’s words. “You just have to trust me,” I said, “Just trust me that I’m fine and believe what I told you.”

It was hard for him to suppress his worry and I knew exactly how that felt. He nodded after a couple of minutes and his eyes finally looked away from mine as he accepted what I was saying to him, even though he didn’t believe it. I tried to forget all about it too, the very idea terrifying me to the point where my hands were shaking as I stepped up to the injured singer and lightly wrapped my arms around him.

“Thank you,” I said, wondering how even now his acceptance could make me feel so much stronger.

I felt his lips in my hair as he answered. “I love you. I will always be here for you when you need me.”

I took a steadying breath and then pressed my mouth against the stubble on his jaw. He turned his head just slightly and pressed his mouth against mine slowly, carefully, as though he could break me.

It was just a simple kiss and lasted only a second. I stood up, licked my mouth, and pulled my bag back onto my shoulder. “I’m going to go,” I said, turned halfway to the door, “I really need to think about some things and take a nap.”

He nodded acceptingly and called a soft goodbye. I said I would come back later when I woke up and then opened the door and walked out. Doctor Mehmet was positioned at the nurse’s stationed and she met my gaze so quickly when I came out that I knew she must’ve been waiting for me. I looked away just as fast.

“Atticus, wait,” she called softly as she rounded the station and came over.

I huffed and stopped to wait for her even though I didn’t want to. She caught up to me halfway between where she was and the elevator and motioned for me to follow her to the corner of the floor. “Did you two talk about it?” she asked, “I’m very worried about you right now. If you don’t start taking care of your body soon then there could be issues for you both down the line.”

I folded my arms. “We didn’t talk about it because I’m not pregnant,” I rebutted, looking at the dark haired doctor with such malice, “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything about it to Ronnie. He doesn’t need bullshit this right now. “

“Atticus, if you are then he deser-“

“Don’t say a word,” I demanded, “You don’t even know for sure so if you were to say anything about it to him and it turned out to be untrue, you would ruin him.”

She folded her hands together. “And if it is?”

“Then I would ruin him,” I answered.

“You really believe that?” she asked, seriously worried, “Atticus, a baby can’t ruin a man and won’t ruin his life. Just because he lives a certain lifestyle doesn’t mean that you should put your body and your child on the back-burner. There could be serious problems if you don’t start to take care of your body. You can’t risk that just because you think that he’ll be upset about it.”

“He wouldn’t be upset,” I answered, “He’d be thrilled and I can’t do this to him. He would quit everything to be home because he thinks that’s what I want. I can’t do that to him.”

“Atticus,” the doctor said, resting her hand on my arm so that I would look at her, “Atticus, you’re really worrying me. You do understand that Ronnie is a grown man and that he can make the decisions that he wants to make regarding his own life? You can’t hide something like this because you’re worried about the decision he will make because of it.”

“Are you married?” I asked, turning my dark eyes back to her.

“Yes,” she answered.

“What does he do?”

“He’s a doctor.”

“Do you have any kids?”

“No,” she responded, “but this isn’t about my personal life, Atticus – as a doctor I have to advise you to do what is right for a possible child and your own body.”

“Your husband, I bet he loves his job,” I answered, “but imagine if it came down to him having to chose between two things he loves and two things he can’t be happy without. That’s Ronnie. He needs his music or he’ll be miserable, but I know that if I were to be pregnant he would drop it all to be there, because he thinks it would make everything better. He always puts me before him.”

“Atticus, that’s a decision that the two of you must make together and if you decide that you’re not ready to be parents and that there are just too many other responsibilities, then there are other options that are open to you both.”

“No, there aren’t,” I replied.

“Yes, Atticus. Women make the choice all the time. I know that it’s hard to chose between the alternatives, but you can’t let this go unmanaged or you’ll be without any.”

“If I got pregnant with Ronnie’s baby there’s not other option,” I replied, wondering if she would feel the same if she was pregnant with her husband’s child, “It would feel wrong to keep something so special from the world. I couldn’t do that to my own child, to Ronnie’s.”

“There’s adoption, Atticus. Abortion isn’t the only alternative.”

“He would hate me,” I answered, unable to even picture how it would rip him from me, “He would never let it happen. I wouldn’t be able to do it, either. I can’t even imagine wanting someone else to raise our child.”

“Atticus, please, either way you have to know what’s happening with your body. You can’t let it go unchecked. If you really are pregnant then you need to start prenatal and start preparing, because if you accept it or not, there’s going to be a baby in a few months.”

“I just need more time to keep my life the way it is,” I replied, “If I’m not, then there’s nothing to worry about, but I don’t want to know if I am. It’ll change everything and I’m not ready for that.”

“Atticus, I know that you and Ronnie are in a tough place right now and I’ m sorry, but please make the right choice. If you’re pregnant your life is going to change no matter what. It’s not a matter of knowing about it.”

I resituated my bag on my shoulder and side-stepped around her without making any promises. I felt lost to the world, as though I was floating through some alternative reality. My life was a game of chance now; a fifty/fifty shot.

It the wrong side of the coin landed face up, there wouldn't be any options for my future. It wouldn’t only be because of Ronnie, but because I wouldn’t be able to make them. The idea of Ronnie’s child was something that would be so special to me. If it existed, the child would mean more to me than life itself and I wouldn’t be able to do anything but raise it. If he or she was real, I would be able to do nothing but fall in love with him or her, the way that I’d fallen in love with Ronnie.

There had been no choice when it came to the singer. I had fallen because he was who he was and if we had a child, I would fall again.

There would be no choice and our lives would be so drastically different. We would give up our ‘right nows’ for the sake of our child and I couldn't bare to watch Ronnie’s path be changed.