We're Getting There // A.I

Chapter 25 // Hard Labour

October 1 : 35 days till due

~Charlie~

I am not stupid.

I know Ashton was keeping something from me. I know that a car going at 90kph can't make a sudden turn left at a 180° angle. I know that some people are crazy. I know that twin babies are often born prematurely. I know that there are things I can't control.

I know pain. I know agony. I know despair. I know panic.

I am experiencing them all right now.

"Charlie! Look me in the eyes - breathe, in and out, in and out"

Tears stream down my face, hot and wet, as strangled cries of pain rip through my sore throat. I have never known anything like this.

I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to see the three people crowding around me and the one person that isn't.

Calum is holding both my hands; he is the strongest one right now. He is directing me how to breathe, what to do, not to panic. He is the one wiping away my tears.

Michael is crying, and I feel like he has no right to, and every right at all. His cheeks have gone red, anxiety is making him shake, he can't look at me.

Jamie is not crying, but every time I yell she does too, and every spare moment she has is spent on the phone to my mom, to the hospital, to my doctor.

"Do you think he's alright?" I whimper, never feeling so alienated in my own body. My loungeroom carpet is soaked, my water broke on it. I should feel embarrassed; I don't.

"I don't know. Focus on yourself" Calum instructs. His voice is firm, I know he is putting on a brave face, there's not much more you can say to someone in this situation.

Jamie is not quiet enough when she tells Calum to lie to me.

"I'm sure he's fine. He'd be at the hospital by now" Calum says, rubbing my shoulders as my contractions subside. I bury my face in his t-shirt, sobbing desperately, nauseous to the point of almost vomiting. Michael makes a small sound to my left, knelt beside me with a hand in mine. I feel as though I'm holding him, not the other way around.

"It's like...it's like being hit by a train" I whisper, my arms trembling. I am not made for this, I was not meant to do this.

How can I do this without Ashton here?

~*~
September 30 : 36 days till due

"Ashton, pass the salt please"

"Is having that much salt healthy? Like for a pregnant lady?"

"Get pregnant and let me know when you figure it out"

Ashton sits across from me at my kitchen table, chewing contently on spaghetti with tomato sauce on his cheek. When he passes me the salt shaker, I dump it into my bowl.

"Cravings?" He asks around a mouth full of pasta.

"You betcha" I mumble, licking my lips as I think about the savoury goodness I'm about to have. This is really the only thing I know how to make, so it's good I enjoy it.