Before you knew

140. You.

Four days later we're in the car.

This is going to be real, and there won't be any denying it after the echoes have been made.
Clay is exited though I'm nervous.

So far the happy fuzzy feelings that I'm supposed to have aren't there.
What if that will never happen?

'Amelia?'

My breath hitches in my throat, we're here.
'Lets head in, alright?'
The question is asked gently and the look in his eyes is gentle but firm.

The breath that leaves the cage that is my ribcage is shaky.
The cage. One that holds many feelings and emotions.
Everything combined in the space between my ribs.

Shaky hands reach for the car door, but a warm hand takes hold of my elbow.
'Take a breath. You seem nervous as hell.'
I lock in place.
'Because I am.'

He wants to ask why, his lips part and his brows knit together, but I'm out the door.
I head to the desk without waiting up for Clay.

'Hello!'
The woman behind the desk has a bright smile, that shoves my nerves a little closer to the edge.
'Hello, I had an appointment at four.'
I try to fake a smile, breath quickening in my chest, uncontrolled shaking of my hands A clear give away as I hold them folded in front of me. 'You're Amelia?' She asks. 'I am.' I answer as Clay walks up and stops next to me. 'Oh, you must be the dad.' The woman says brightly. My blood runs cold as the weight of her words make it hard to breath. When I glance at my right, Clay seems taken aback too. 'I.... am.' He says. She catches on to the reaction she got from us, and backs off a bit, going on in a more professional manner.

'You can wait by room five.'

I nod and walk off.
'Thanks.' I hear Clay say.

I sit down and take a deep, feeling the panic rise as my breaths become shallow.
'Calm down, they're not going to kill you.' Clay says half jokingly.

This is going to be the death of me.

My mind starts to speed up, different thoughts coming through my mind.
I stand up, feeling trapped in the waiting room.

What if I never care about this thing inside of my belly? What if I can't take care of it. What if I get rid of it, what will Clay do? What will happen if-

'Amelia-'

Clay stands in front of me, looking helpless as he watches.
The distance has grown between us, feeling like we're oceans apart while I feel like drowning.
I can't breath. Not a second of rest.

Clay started to sleep in the guest bedroom as I laid awake in the pale moonlight.
Alone.

What I had feared most.

'I can't do this. I-I.... I can't.'
My hands go to my head as I turn my back to Clay.
'God what-' my breath hitches as the first sob is close to breaking free.

'Amelia Harris.'
A female voice says.

'Could you give us a second?'
Clays voice is cold and monotone.
Unusual from the normal big hearted man.

'No, I can't do this, I want to go home.'
Footsteps approach me, before I feel clays body heat radiate on my skin. He's standing close, but is not touching me.
That's what we are now. This is what has come from this thing in me.
To far apart, no matter how close we are.

Clay walks around me, in a way cautiously.
He lays his hand on my shoulder, a friendly gesture.
'Take a breath. You're not alone, I'm here.'

'That's the fucking problem. You.'

Clays concerned expression dies, and no expression at all, comes back for it.
He moves his hand away, and turns away slightly.
'Then I'll leave.'

The bitter tone that coats his words is poisonous.
He turns his back to me and walks to the door.

'No Clay...'
I bite my lip as I am nearly set on walking after him.