Accidents Happen

11. Packing up

I ended up staying at Bens for the next week. We traded house chores for food and the sofa to sleep on. Ben told his girlfriend that Scott and I had broken up already and that I was suffering with the flu. I just couldn't face going back to the flat to begin packing up my things. Not yet. Scott would be home in days; his deployment had ended sooner than expected. I'd found it hard to control my emotions when he'd rung me, excited, to say he would be home soon. I could've just told him then. It would have been less cruel.

'I miss you so much babe.' He told me.

'I miss you too.'

'Its been a long few weeks, but I'm nearly home.' He didn't know just how long those weeks had been. And the drama that had filled them.

'Whats up?' Ben asked, as I stared glumly out the window into the street half an hour after my conversation with my boyfriend. Soon to be ex-boyfriend. 'Scott?' He guessed.

'I feel shit for what I'm gonna do to him.'

'You said it yourself, the relationship wasn't right.'

'I know but I cheated on him and that's just not who I am.'

'I know that. You know that. But does it really matter now? It's done. You don't even need to tell him the truth, just say it's not working.'

'I won't lie to him.' I owed him that much. He was a great guy. And I wanted him to be happy with someone who wasn't a complete fuck up. If I lied and said it wasn't working, especially after him leaving the army for me, he would do everything to keep us together. I knew that telling him the truth would be the nail in the coffin. I just hoped it didn't hurt him too much.

Any conversation about the baby was curtailed by me changing the subject. I just wasn't in the right frame of mind to be talking about it. If I could ignore it for as long as possible then I could just about cope with the idea. I was in no way connected to this baby. If it wasn't for the constant nausea and exhaustion, I could've pretended it wasn't happening at all. I may not have gone through the termination but it in no way meant I wanted this.

********

In the days that followed I looked for a job (no luck, but Ben did need me to travel up to Manchester to help with some merchandise at a gig for which I'd get £30 and petrol money), researched time travel (again, no luck on that one) and threw up a lot. Dan had rang me a few times to see if I was ok. Ben and I hung out a lot. It was a few boring days before the impending explosion of the only serious relationship I'd had.

Scott text me as he boarded the plane early one morning, and I woke to find I had only four hours before he would be home. I had to go and get my things from the flat. Ben offered to come help.

'There isn't that much, it's just clothes and stuff.' In my two years since fleeing America with just the clothes on my back, I'd hardly acquired many more belongings. It made moving around much easier.

'You can pack, I'll load the car. Can't be carrying anything around in your condition.'

'I'm pregnant, not terminally ill.'

'For once in your life will you just accept help?' He said sternly. 'I give a shit about you and this baby. And if it was my baby in there I would be making sure you didn't lift a finger.'

'Ben...' His words shook me. I knew we were best friends, that we were close, but I often felt he carried me. That maybe I benefited more from the friendship than he did. But to hear him so uncharacteristically bare his soul was a surprise. Not to mention him hinting at the alternative universe where the baby was his. I began to cry.

'Ally, sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I wasn't being nasty.'

'No, I know. I just...that was sweet.'

'I can be nice sometimes.' He laughed. I pushed his face away with my palm playfully. I took a deep breath in, stood up from the sofa I'd barely moved in seven days and felt very sick but motivated to do this.

I had to do this.