Fatal Pursuit

thirty-five

THREE WEEKS LATER

Knock, knock, knock.

"Fifi!" he sings from behind the door.

I adjust myself in the bed, "It's open!" I called out.

Xavi peeks his head through the door, "Hello. Well, aren't you a beautiful sight to see in the morning?"

I smile, "Good morning." I wave him in, "Come sit."

He enters the room, closing the door behind him, "I brought you some tea because I know that you were feeling a bit icky last night." He sets it on my nightstand, "Feeling any better?" he asks, touching his palm to my forehead.

I try to sit up in bed but I feel so sore all over, "I'm okay, ah!" I groaned.

"Woah, woah, take it easy," he laid me back down, "Just relax. Are you hurting?"

"Yeah, no. I'm good." I feel like I did a full-body workout and then got hit by a train, "I've just been getting these body aches every morning for some reason. The bottom half of my body always feel so sore."

He smirked.

I rolled my eyes, chuckling, "Stop it, don't even say anything because I already know what you're going to say."

"Alright, alright," he laughed, "I didn't want to wake you up so I made you some breakfast in the kitchen so you can get at that when you feel better."

I look down and he has his cleets on, "Going to practice?"

"Yeah I'm going to practice some drills with some of my teammates but when I get back we can watch something and relax. There's a really good Trini restaurant uptown, they have the best doubles, don't tell mum. I can stop by and pick up some takeaway."

"Yeah, that sounds good." I smile.

He matches my smile. "Alright. Oh, and could you give mum her medicine at noon? I already have it set out and everything."

"Yeah, of course."

"Good," he pecks me on the lips, "I'll be back soon."

Suddenly, my stomach lurches forward and I jump out of bed and race to the bathroom.

"Darling?" Xavi calls, "Are you alright?"

I kneel before the toilet bowl and painfully hack up bile.

"Jesus, Infinity," Xavi comes behind me, moving my hair back, "You've been getting sick a lot lately."

I nod dizzily, "I- I know, I think it's the food change-" I gasp and hurl for the second time.

"That's it," Xavi declares, "Forget training, I'm taking you to the doctor."

༄

"Do you feel any pain or tenderness when I touch you here?" the doctor asks, pushing down lightly on my stomach.

"No. It kind of tickles actually." I say, biting back laughter.

He chuckles, "As long as it doesn't hurt. Can you tell me more about your symptoms?"

I sat up, "Uh, yeah. I-"

"No, no. Lay back down, please."

"Oh. O-okay. Um... well I've been having a lot of panic attacks for the past couple of weeks and..." I trail off as I watch him pull my shirt up over my stomach and start feeling on it again, "Continue, Ms. Maraj, I'm listening."

"When I wake up in the morning, I feel sore all over and just nauseous throughout the day. I suspect it might be the food change. I was in Spain all summer."

"Have you been having any issues with digestion or have you had diarrhea?"

I shake my head.

"I doubt that it's food change then but it could be an environmental change." He stops kneading my stomach and we make eye contact, "You've been feeling most of this in the mornings, huh?"

I nod.

He pulls my shirt back down, "Have you been sexually active at all since you've come back?"

"Um... I'm sorry but what does that have to do with my panic attacks?"

His eyes turn cold, "I'm just trying to get the full picture for the diagnosis. It's important to know because I don't want to prescribe you a medicine that could potentially throw off your pH. So, kindly answer the question for me, please. There's nothing to be ashamed of, this is a judgment-free zone."

"Alright... yes I have."

"When was your last menstrual cycle?"

I quickly calculate the time in my head, "Maybe about four or five weeks ago. I'm kind of irregular."

"Five weeks ago. Did you notice any abnormal symptoms?"

"No, not really. It was pretty light."

"Mhmm. Did you experience any spotting?"

I thought back to it, "Maybe you could call it that. But like I said I'm really irregular so I wouldn't call it abnormal per se. Sometimes they're really light, sometimes heavy. Plus, I was on vacation so I was definitely not complaining."

"Right, and uh... out of curiousity, how was your time in Spain? I've always wanted to go on holiday there."

"It was... an adventure, for sure." I affirmed.

"I imagine you had a load of fun." he says as he types away at his computer.

I shrug, "It started off as a lot of fun but ended...really poorly. I started getting panic attacks on my last day there actually."

He turns to face me, "Really? Romance problems, perhaps?"

"You could say that..." I sigh.

"It happens but things will get better, rest assured. Are you planning to go back to the States or is England apart of your European excursion?"

"For now, I'm staying here. I'm trying to work a couple things out actually."

He looks at me as if he is dissatisfied with my answer, "You're not going back home?"

I furrow my brow, "...No? Not anytime soon."

He types something very quickly and then turns back to me, "Right. I think I have your diagnosis."

"Alright."

He clears his throat, "So, I was initially going to prescribe you an SSRI but... I'm afraid antidepressants aren't safe for you to take so early in your pregnancy."

My stomach drops and I sit up immediately, "I'm sorry, my what?"

He folds his lips, "You're pregnant. You heard me correctly. If you still need some peace of mind, I can give you a pregnancy test so that you can be assured but I'm 99.9% positive. I regret to inform you of this information if this is news that you're not excited about but unfortunately it's true."

No... no, no, no. Please let this be a joke. But, how could he know that? He just pressed on my stomach a little. No, I can't be.

"Do you have any idea who the father could be?"