Butterfly's Year

36. Girl stuff

The next morning, I woke up at the crack of dawn, unable to stay in bed any longer, and headed to the gym. All night, I had been haunted by dreams of half-Spanish letters, half-Spanish children, and people who died without a clear cause. I had no control over the images my brain presented to me during sleep, but I saw exercise as a remedy, at least for my racing heart.

Rain was pouring outside, so I began to see the advantages of having a gym in the same building. Incredible convenience and luxury. After an hour-long workout at maximum intensity, sufficiently exhausted to not have the energy to think ahead about children, I returned to the apartment.

Victor was already awake and looked slightly worried about my absence, and when he saw me, he jumped up, more agitated than I was.

– Don't disappear like that, or I'll have a heart attack – he gasped, without a hint of reproach in his voice. He must have been seriously worried.

– I was at the gym – I explained, avoiding his gaze.

– Alone?

– Yes – I confirmed laconically. – Remember, we have it in the building? No one will kidnap me from there.

Victor finally focused on my face and furrowed his brows slightly.

– You look tired. Did you sleep at all? – he asked with concern in his voice.

– A little – I murmured.

I gently freed myself from his embrace and marched to the fridge for some chilled water, but I could still feel his probing gaze on me.

– What's got you so down, sweetheart? – he asked kindly. – Is it that you don't like Alec? It's the best option. You know it makes me feel more at ease.

– What? No, that's not it – I replied after swallowing the last sip of water. – Alec is fine.

– Then what is it? That letter? You don't have to be afraid. He won't hurt you if you report it.

– It's none of those things, really – I said, putting the water back in the fridge. – I just needed to think.

– About what?

– Just some girly stuff – I replied evasively and headed to the bathroom.

– And nothing else for sure? – he called after me with concern when I was halfway to the bedroom door. – Snowflake?

I turned to face him, trying not to show my irritation.

– What else could it be? –  I asked, still keeping my swirling fear and panic in check.

What else could I tell him? Sorry, my mind is a mess because I don't know if I'm pregnant or not, and I'm terrified to check in case I am? I couldn't tell him that. I needed to come up with a more delicate way to say it or take the test. But to take the test, I had to buy it first. But if I buy it and take it, I will have certainty. If it turns out I'm not pregnant, great, but if it's the other way around, I'll be faced with an undeniable fact, and everything will repeat itself. I couldn't decide what was worse: uncertainty or coming to terms with the most probable reason why my period had been late for nine days.

– I don't know – Victor replied evasively. – You've been on edge since yesterday. If you'd prefer to be guarded by a stranger...

– I told you it's not about that – I snapped coldly.

– Then what is it?

This time I didn't answer, just headed to the bathroom and quickly jumped into the shower. I would have loved to spend as much time there as possible, but I had classes and still needed to get that damn test, so I couldn't dawdle for too long.