After the bath, I absolutely had no strength to do anything constructive. The hot water enveloped me and, while it didn't calm me down, it did lull me into a light drowsiness. So I lay down on the bed and slept until Victor came back.
Through the closed door, I heard his muffled conversation, probably with Alec. After just a few minutes, the voices quieted, and then my love quietly entered the bedroom. I didn't move to make him think I was still asleep, but he came over to me anyway.
He sat on the edge of the bed and gently placed his hand on my shoulder.
– Paulina, what's going on? – he asked in a gentle, low voice. – And don't try to tell me it's nothing because I can see something is really wrong.
I curled up into a ball, trying to avoid the conversation, but he kept sitting there, waiting for my reaction. So I finally looked at him but couldn't say a single word, which seemed to worry him even more.
– What's wrong? – he asked with genuine concern in his voice. – Are you feeling sick?
I didn't answer; I just looked to the side, then at the ceiling, to the other side, and kept shifting my eyes in different directions just to avoid making eye contact with him.
– What's going on with you today? – Victor pressed relentlessly, and I felt a surge of frustration.
– My period is late, okay? – I snapped, unable to bear the pressure any longer.
– So what? – His eyes briefly expressed nothing special before understanding and perhaps a slight shock appeared. – Are you pregnant? – he asked, with no hint of hope in his voice.
The little creature inside me rolled its eyes, deeply irritated.
"Great reaction, Victor. Bravo" – it snarled sarcastically. – "That's just what we needed. Confirmation that you, just like us, don't see this in a positive light. Just great".
I once again scolded myself internally. I knew perfectly well that unprotected sex is never safe. How could I have been so careless?
– I don't know – I admitted, and just saying it was incredibly difficult.
– What do you mean you don't know? We need to check.
– I know, but I'm scared – I said, trying to regain some composure, but I was only more jittery.
– Why? – Victor pressed, and I felt something inside me break.
– Because it scares the hell out of me – I replied in despair, suddenly leaping out of bed.
I pushed Victor aside and walked away, wanting to get as far from him and his probing questions as possible.
Of course, he followed me, and as usual, I tried to push away the fatalistic thoughts by making the simplest thing in the world—tea. He stood behind me at a safe distance of about one meter, patiently waiting. He watched as I poured boiling water over the tea bag, added honey, and squeezed lemon juice, and when all I could do was wait for the drink to cool down enough to drink, he approached me.
– Pregnancy is not a disease – he said gently, placing his hands on my shoulders. – You don't die from it. And then you bring new life into the world. It's natural.
– Then you give birth if you're so smart – I snapped in an icy tone. – It's easy to talk when you're not the one who has to endure nine months of discomfort just to then give birth in pain to a life that screams from the get-go and changes the entire life of the woman who gave birth to it.
My previous internal turmoil gave way to a gradually rising irritation, which intensified with each second. I wondered if he would say the same if he had a uterus and was developing some new, uninvited life inside him.
– It's not my fault I have a penis and you have a vagina – Victor said patiently, which, for some reason, irritated me immensely. – That's just how the world is set up. You, women, are delicate and give birth to our children, and we take care of you.
The little creature inside me narrowed its eyes. I couldn't believe he just said that. We give birth for them? For them?!
– Who do we give birth for? – I asked, watching him intently. – For you? And where are you when we want to return to work? Where are you when we're not fully recovered postpartum, and the baby cries, but you already want to have sex again? Where do you prefer to go after work? To the child we gave birth to, or to the gym to look good for those who haven't given birth yet and will meet you any time of the day or night?
As I spoke, his benevolent expression faded, and his face turned paler. His eyes expressed utter shock and disbelief.
– You're being very radical and cruel – he said after a moment of silence.
The little creature inside me smiled sourly, but I kept a stone face.
– The world and your instincts, which you like to hide behind, are exactly that – I declared emphatically. – Ruthless and cruel.
I turned my back on him, considering the discussion over, and reached for more honey for my tea.
Victor, however, seemed unwilling to let it go so easily. He hugged me from behind and placed one hand on my lower abdomen.
– I would take care of you – he murmured warmly. – I would never leave you.
For a few moments, I felt genuinely touched. The thought of Victor watching over me and our child was wonderful despite everything, but life wasn't a utopia, and I knew that all too well. He could say whatever he wanted, but those were just words that could lose their sweetness when faced with reality. I pushed his loving hands away.
– Listen to how that sounds – I replied coolly, dampening his enthusiasm. – How long have we known each other? Who knows what will happen in our lives in a few months, and you want to tell me you'd rise to the occasion? How can you know that? You're saying what every girl who gets pregnant wants to hear. Pregnancy is not a game, Vic. It changes everything.
– You talk as if pregnancy is the end of the world – he said, sending me a gentle smile that seemed to suggest I was overreacting, though he didn't want to say it outright. – People have children. I'm not saying I'd want one right now, but if it happened...
– I've already been pregnant – I interrupted him before I could bite my tongue, unable to stand the nonsense any longer, considering I had more experience in this matter than he did. – And believe me, it wasn't a time full of excitement.
Victor stopped smiling and looked at me with deep shock and disbelief.
– What? – he stammered. – When?
– In high school.
– But you don't have a child... – he stated the obvious in a rather uncertain tone, as if making sure he hadn't missed some additional small person in my life.
– Obviously, Sherlock – I snapped bitterly.
– So what...? – Victor trailed off and gave me a questioning look that probably meant – happened– or something similar.
I sighed heavily, as now I had no choice but to tell him everything.
– It was never born – I stated in a heavy voice.
– But...? – Victor was still in shock, stumbling over his words as if having a mini-stroke. – Who... who was the father? Why wasn't it born? What did you...?–
YOU ARE READING
Butterfly's Year
Romance" - We are in a church, - I remarked sensibly. - Absolutely, - he agreed with a pleasant purr that vibrated between my legs. - Your parents are standing right there, - I whispered, discreetly pointing to his mom and dad standing in front of the alta...
