The dreams

I looked at the stick. There it was, the second line. The sickness wasn’t just the heat.
“Shit.” I looked at myself in the mirror. I don’t know how to tell him. He doesn’t want them, never has. I was never fussed either way. I had my daughter, she was old enough to not fuss about a baby brother or sister either. Not after we lost that one… I covered my mouth, biting the inside of my hand to stop my self from bursting into tears. I can’t go through that again.

“Princess? You home?” His voice, just when I needed to hear it. He saves me from spiralling more than he knows.

“I’m just in the bathroom, be down in a mo!” I shouted back, hiding the pregnancy test in its original sleeve and tucking it into my pocket. I have no idea how to handle this but five minutes in his arms will give me clarity.

I took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom, I could hear him in the kitchen. What was he up to? I walked down the stairs and stood in the doorway, watching as he poured milk into a pan. I cleared my throat with a questioning look on my face. He turned and smiled at me as put the pan on the hob effortlessly, without looking. He closed the space between us and wrapped his arms round me. “There you are. I missed you.” He kissed me gently, sending butterflies through my entire body – like always. “How has your day been?”

I shrugged, biting the inside of my lip. “Nothing new, just some cleaning.”

“How are you feeling? Any better?” His right hand left my waist and tucked my hair behind my ear before hooking under my chin. His eyes locked with mine. I didn’t want him to ever stop looking at me that way. I nodded and kissed him quickly before he could tell I was hiding this new secret. “Do you want a drink?” I nodded and sighed quietly, in relief, as he pulled away and went over to the hob. He turned on the flame and I was almost lost in watching the milk bubble as it reached a simmer. “Banoffee hot chocolate okay?” I smiled a genuine smile and nodded again. He knew it was my favourite, he didn’t even need to ask.

I grabbed a mug out of the cupboard and set it down on the side. “How was work?” I knew what he was going to say, I rarely asked because he doesn’t like to think of work once he’s left but I had nothing else to say. My mind won’t let me feel casual or comfortable, it’s screaming. “What do you want for lunch?” That’ll keep me busy right? Just for a few minutes at least.

“Whatever you’re making will be fine. Thank you.” He kept his eyes on the hot chocolate he was making. He was upset I brought up work…thanks for that brain. I grabbed the bread and threw together some sandwiches for us to share. I also prepared a fruit salad, I was wanting sweet things so much and now I know why.

I carried the sandwiches and salad to the dining room and set down a space for us both. I wanted to fill the silence, act natural. Why can’t I think of anything to say or do? Why am I stuck? My hand went to my belly and I looked down at it. What am I going to do? I dropped my hand as he turned into the room, he notices more about me than anybody else ever has, I’m going to have to be more conscious of my movements and words. “Sorry I asked about work.” He put down the drinks and grabbed my hand. He gently tugged me towards him. I happily fell towards him. I always loved that he was decisive, when he wanted me near, he’d make it so. “And I’m sorry for saying sorry.” I gave him a cheeky smile, knowing that he would hate hearing the word more.

“Shut up princess.” With that he kissed me hard, pulling out my chair and sitting me down. The casual dominance of this man made me weak at the knees. It was never harsh or controlling but assertive, gentle and it always felt caring. Like he knew he was looking after me in those moments.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on in your adorable head?”

I took a giant bite of the cheese and ham sandwich sat in front of me. If I had a mouth full, I couldn’t talk right? He just chuckled, knowing what I was up to. He had more patience than that, he’d wait for me to finish. I chewed slowly, trying to think of what to pass it off as before swallowing the food. “I just haven’t been feeling well, as you know. I’ve been throwing up more and I guess I’m worried about what it could be…” I kept my head down and continued to eat.

For a brief moment, I lifted my eyes to watch his expression. “Whatever it is, you’ll be OK. I’ll look after you.” He just carried on eating, glancing at me and smiling when our eyes met. He winked. “Yes, anything it is.”

We sat there quietly while we had lunch. I don’t think he’s considered what it really is. I know he stressed ‘anything’ to me but does that include a baby? I know he’s not going to let it go, I will have to tell him. The thought terrified me. I picked up my hot chocolate but before I could enjoy a sip, the smell hit my nose and, what would normally cause excitement in me, caused the nausea to kick in. I ran to the kitchen sink and turned on the tap just in time as I brought up anything I had eaten today. Really? My daughter ruined one of my favourite foods for me during pregnancy, this baby is going to ruin one of my favourite drinks? I let everything out and washed the sink.

I felt his arms wrap around me from behind, he kissed my ear. “Are you going to tell me?”
All of my body went tense, does he already know? I turned round quickly in his arms and looked at his face intently. “Tell you what?” My heart was racing, I could practically feel it in my throat. He can’t know, I only just found out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I tried to push past him, to get away from the conversation but he grabbed my arm - gentle yet firm. “Don’t.” I turned back to look at him. He looked disappointed. I didn’t want that. I stopped trying to leave and let him speak. “Don’t lie to me. You never have and I would hate for you to feel you have to about this.” Shit, he knows. How does he know?! “You’ve been nauseous for over a fortnight, actively sick for a week, you’re appetite has changed and you won’t call a doctor. You also haven’t curled up with cramps and rubbish movies for over two months, that’s late even for you.”

I bit my hand again, closing my eyes tight. How did he know. Why did he have to know. I don’t want him to leave. I took a step back, he let go of my arm. I ran upstairs to the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind me. The tears weren’t stopping, I couldn’t process any of this. I could hear his footsteps on the stairs. I sat by the door on the floor, the tears were free and heavy.

He knocked gently, “Princess? Please don’t run, talk to me.” I sat there silently, the door is locked, I will wait this out. He’ll leave. I can drag it out. If I talk to him, if I confirm it, he’ll leave. I can prevent that a little while at least. I have to. I can’t lose him. I also can’t choose him, there isn’t a choice. “I will take the door down if I have to.”

“I’m sat in front of it, you won’t break it down and risk hurting me so just go! Let me think…” I heard him walk away and let the tears fall. I don’t want to lie to him but if he leaves, I’ll be lost. We haven’t been together long enough to be ok, we haven’t made enough memories. I don’t have a safe footing on my own here.

After a few moments of sobbing to myself, I stood up, brushed my teeth and pulled the test out of my pocket. I’ll just have to hope he meant what he said, that he’ll look after me. Maybe he’ll help me find a place up here or at least a way to move back home. As I tried to calm and brace myself for the conversation, the door was removed. I saw him stood there with a screwdriver and the hinges. “You insisted on being dramatic and hiding. I said I’d take it down.” He shrugged and I couldn’t help but laugh.

He walked towards me and opened his arms for a hug, I resisted at first before realising I might not have many more, I buried my face in his chest and tried to inhale as much of his scent as I could. I wanted to burn it into my nose, I wanted to stain my skin with how he felt. He tried to pull back to look at me but I only held on tighter and buried my face further. “Let’s go talk. It’s going to be OK. Did you already do a test?”

When he asked that, I realised I was holding it still. I was the one to step back, to show him. “Here. I’m going to lay down. Please don’t leave me too quickly.” I handed it to him and walked out of the bathroom. I smiled at the door leaning on the wall and ran my fingers over it as I walked past to the bedroom. At least this one more memory to think on.

I curled up in the bed, laying on my side, contemplating my choices. I moved across the country to be with him. I had broken into his house, this house while he was planning to move to a new one with his then girlfriend. He found me and instead of calling the police, he called her – told her he was staying here and that she could have the new house to herself. He chose me. The next day she stormed round, demanding an explanation, she saw me and my daughter. She saw red, assuming my daughter was his, that we were some secret affair and she went to hit him. I got in the way, I shouldn’t have because she didn’t stop at the one punch. Then he saw red because I was hurt and she seemed to be happy about it. He pinned her by the throat and only stopped when he saw my daughter watching. He threw his ex out and slammed the door before kneeling down in front of my daughter and apologising for seeming scary. I explained he was protecting me and that it wasn’t okay what happened. She saw the bruises on my face and thanked him for stopping the mean lady.

We’ve been with him, here, ever since. My daughter moved schools, we take her to see her dad once a month and when we do, we go on adventure – just the two of us. He works, I cook and clean. He takes care of us. I always knew, marriage and kids, they were never going to happen and I was willing to let them go because he was who I wanted, who I needed. He even stopped hurting himself after I explained I would never forgive him if my child found him that way. He says he doesn’t need to now that he has me but I know that isn’t true. Whatever his reasons are, he stopped and I’m happy about that. What will he do when he leaves? Or more realistically, when we do, this is his home after all.

I felt the bed dip as he sat on the edge.

There was just silence for a few minutes.

I sat up, hugged my knees to my chest and cleared my throat. “Can I wait until the second trimester
before I move out?” I figured at least then I can get past the 9 week mark, that’s how far I was when I lost my second baby. He knew this.

He turned to me sharply. “What the fuck? Why are you moving out?” I expected him to be upset but not confused.

“This is your house, it should be us to leave, not you. I know you don’t want this and you know I won’t terminate. So if things are going to end, I want them to at least end after I’ve had a chance to feel safer about it going to term.” I got mad, I didn’t think I’d even have to explain it. I didn’t want to discuss that pain. I didn’t want to have to be so level headed about this all.

He pulled my ankles, laying me down and climbed on top of me – pinning me to the bed. “What. The. Fuck.” He looked at me, his dark eyes seemed almost darker. He was scanning my face, looking for some answer in my expression. “Do you want to keep the baby?”

Is he insinuating I shouldn’t? How dare he. “Of course I do.” I tried to push him off me but instead ended up with my hands pinned either side of me.

“Good.” He almost spat the word. “Do you want to stay with me?” He faltered ever so slightly as he asked that, as if he wasn’t confident of the answer.

I sighed and closed my eyes, not wanting to answer him but reluctantly doing so, “Of course I do.”

“Then why the fuck are you planning to leave? You’re mine aren’t you? That’s what you always said.” I felt a small splash as a droplet hit my cheek. I opened my eyes and saw that he was the one crying now. “Why would you leave me? Why isn’t this good news? Don’t couples usually get excited together about this?”

I was speechless. He thought this was good? He wasn’t planning to end it? “I – I don’t know what to say. I thought – “

“Well you thought wrong.” He climbed off me, allowing me to sit up while he sat on the edge again with his back to me. “You’re wrong. I’ve been waiting for you to do the test because I noticed the signs and when I came home today, I could tell you knew and thought you’d be excited and share the news. You didn’t. I figured you were nervous, I’d wait. Then you tried to avoid telling me, you tried to lie and I don’t know why.”

“Why? Because you have never wanted children. I didn’t want to burst our bubble.” I looked down, chewing my lip. I’m so confused, how did I get it so wrong?

“It’s not a bubble anymore! It’s reality! You can’t burst it. I’m never leaving you, I promised that remember?” He did promise me that.

I crawled across the bed and kneeling behind him, I wrapped my arms round him. “You did. I’m so sorry I tried to lie. I was scared it would be too much of what you didn’t want.” I hugged him close until I felt him turn to me, I fell back slightly and he stared at me so intently I could feel it.

“I only want you. The rest is all a bonus. And this?” He looked at my belly, resting his hand on it. I squirmed and looked away. “This is going to be half you, I’m going to love them just as much as I do her.” He nodded towards a picture of my daughter that hung in our room. I nodded. He continued, “I’m excited. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fucking terrified I’ll ruin it but I’m excited. So sort how you feel and come find me when you’ve figured it out.” He stood with a sigh and left before I could catch up with myself to stop him.

I’m an idiot. This is just like the time I deleted his number. Why do I let the panic run the situation? Why do I allow it be louder than he always has been? I want him. I love him. And this? I looked down as my hand landed softly on my belly, this is going to be half him. This child is going to be beautiful, inside and out. I should be excited, I would be excited if I weren’t so worried he won’t be.

And now, I’m feeling too stupid to enjoy the news.

I walked out the room slowly, I saw the bathroom door still in the hallway. The least I can do is put it back up right? I could hear him in the kitchen, no doubt washing away the hot chocolate after my reaction to it. I found the hinges and screwdriver in the bathroom, on the sink ledge, next to the test. I sighed. I never wanted it to go this way. “Hello?” I heard him go in the spare room downstairs and close the door. Who was he talking to? He’ll tell me if I need to know. I decided to shake the questions and focus on the door.

I sat down and began screwing the hinge back onto the door first, using the original holes as a guide to follow easily. Once I got that all done, I stood up and lifted the door. I lined up where the hinges need to go but noticed that they are a few millimetres higher than expected. Shit, I’d have to ask for his help. I don’t want to bother him while he’s on the phone.

I searched the bedroom, looking for a thin blanket or something I could lay under it, to give it the extra bit of height to make reattaching it easy enough. “What are you doing?” I jumped at the sudden voice, I had been too busy thinking to notice him come up. He strode over and took the door from me, noticing the hinges. “You’re pregnant. You don’t want to deal with that but you don’t get to be doing heavy lifting and DIY until the baby is out. OK?”

“I’m barely pregnant, I can handle a fucking door and I DO want to deal with it. I am having this baby, with you and you have to learn that I am fucking capable.” I snatched the door back, as much as I could at least and turned my back to him.

Before I could even try and line it up again, my feet left the ground and the door landed on the blanket with a soft thud. “Put me the fuck down.” I wriggled and tried to get him to put me down. “I mean it! I can fix it!”

He carried me downstairs and sat down on the sofa, swiftly placing me in his lap. “Calm down.” He kissed my head. I tried to get up but he held me in place. “I know you’re capable. I also know you’re scared. Will fixing the door change that?” I pouted, shaking my head. Obviously it wouldn’t. “You don’t even realise you just made me so happy, do you?” I looked at him, confused again. “You told me you’re having the baby with me.” He nuzzled his face in my neck, his eyelashes tickling me in the process.

“I’m an idiot, I know that.” I changed position from sitting sideways to straddling his lap. I fiddled with the zip on his hoody and wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I don’t mean to panic and ruin these things. I just get scared and then I can’t stop it.” I shrugged. “Of course I want to stay with you and have this baby. I hope he or she has your eyes.” I smiled, picturing a dark haired, dark eyed bundle of joy. “I’m sorry.”

“You can make it up to me by going to the doctors appointment I made for you.” I could hear a smile in his voice as he spoke.

I finally looked up and saw he had been watching me the whole time. I kissed him softly and ran my fingers through his hair. His hands suddenly cupped my ass and pulled me closer. I parted my lips to let his tongue meet mine and we began to make out heavily. One of his hands moved slowly and purposefully up my back, he held the back of my neck for a moment before gripping my hair and pulling my head back, baring my neck to him. He began to kiss it lightly and nibble it teasingly. I let out a soft moan, enjoying the way he touched me. I knew where this was going, how we were going to make up and I couldn’t wait. I interrupted him for a moment to remove my top, I felt his eyes scan over every inch of skin revealed as a low groan escaped his lips. “Good girl.” The words rolled so effortlessly before he was kissing me again and pulling me closer. My whole body was on fire and I liked it.