The Unknown

She sits along the water, waiting, watching, wondering if he’ll come, if he’ll show up. She doesn’t know what to say, but she knows she has to tell him something. She had come earlier to have time to think, to relax, to feel. He’s late, but she doesn’t realize it. It’s the summer and time can be ignored and enjoyed. The sun is setting and the water is reflecting the setting sun. She is bathed in the vibrant suns colors, making her look like a fallen angel. In her hand she’s holding a note, tightly clutched. It’s her only outward sign of emotion. She is nervous, frightened about what will happen, what she’ll say, what he’ll say. She hears a sound, a noise, unlike that of water. She turns slightly, cautious and afraid. The greenery around her reveals a shadow, a hand, a leg, a face. He actually came! She smiles at him – a big, happy-go-lucky smile – then sombers, and remembers why she asked him to come. She turns back to the water, bracing herself for his violence. Hateful words were exchanged the last time they were together and she had no reason to expect this time to be any different. No reason to expect she wouldn’t be sinking into quicksand, slowly dying. No reason to expect she wouldn’t drown with her head pushed under the water. She didn’t want to fight with him. She only wanted to tell him one thing. A single thing and then she’d leave him. To her surprise, he comes and sits next to her. Not saying a single thing he watches the sun finish setting. He reaches for her hand and holds it tightly in his. He knows her well enough to know that her heart is racing, her breathing is shallow and that she is extremely frightened.

'Cocoa,' he whispers, 'what’s wrong?'

She looks up, startled, into his storm grey eyes. He hadn’t called her that since they started dating. It was a shock, that name, coming from the lips of the first boy she ever kissed, coming from the lips of the first boy she’d ever yelled at. Coming from the lips of the boy whose baby she carried.

She looks down at their joined hands. 'I thought you hated me,' she replies slowly.

He brings their hands to his mouth and kisses the back of her hand. Their eyes meet – ice blue against storm grey, a battle of wills. Of stubbornness. They were so much alike – both hated being wrong, neither willing to admit they could be beaten. They had such strong opinions and wouldn’t give and inch – until the tension exploded into passion. Then they truly agreed – they were meant for each other. Until the next fight, the next difference of opinions.

'I thought we broke up,' she says.

His eyes widen, 'I thought we were just cooling off,' he says, then continues, 'are you breaking up with me?'

She hesitates. He can see she wants to tell him something. She bows her head, fighting an inner struggle. He takes his free hand and gently raises her chin.

'Sweetheart,' he looks into her eyes, 'I know something is wrong. Please. Tell me. We’ll get through it.' 

A tear falls into his palm. He imagines her saying she cheated on him, she was abused, she did drugs, she stole, she was moving. But what he hears shocks him even more. She looks at their hands while she tells him, scared to see anger in his eyes. She passes him the note – it’s from a doctor, telling her to come in the following day.

She expects many reactions, none being the one she receives.

'Is it mine?'

She stares at him, wondering if he’s happy or mad, angry or sad.

'Yes,' she replies, 'you’re the – the only one…' Another year tear falls. She lowers her eyes to the note still in his hand. 'I…I just thought you should know,' she says, not being able to stand the silence. 'I’m not trying to force anything on you.' He still doesn’t answer. 'Are we still just cooling off?' she asks in a tiny voice, dreading the answer, but knowing “no” is always better than “what if?” She looks at his face, but he’s staring at the twilight water. His face is unreadable. She admits that it was a lot to take in, and so, sits in silence, next to her not-quite-broken-up-but-not-quite-together-with boyfriend. Countless minutes pass.

When he finally does talk, his voice is small. He looks at her. 'I…I’m going to be a…dad?' Honour, respect and something else is mixed into his voice. For the first time since she saw him this evening, she smiles.

'At least biological,' she teases. She looks into his eyes, and her smile becomes a look of awe. For once, love is in his eyes. For her. Only for her. He kisses her slowly in the moonlight, then she puts her head on his shoulder.

'I love you Cocoa,' he whispers, just as she’s falling asleep.  

'I love you too,' she smiles, 'always have.'

He finishes their saying: 'Always will.'