Mimeomia

25 | esprit de corps

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ESPRIT DE CORPS

( — a sense of unity and of common interests and responsibilities, as developed among a group of persons closely associated in a task, cause, enterprise, etc. )

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

          MICHAELA FOUND OUT SHE WAS PREGNANT OVER A MONTH AGO. While her period had never been late for over ten years, which was when she finally started taking the pill, she really wanted to believe the reason it hadn't come on the day it was supposed to was all the stress she was under at the time—either that or how she had conveniently stopped taking it earlier this year.

          She tried to convince herself of that for a few days. Really, she did.

          When the symptoms began to show, she knew it was too late and she had really, really screwed things up this time. By the time she took all those tests—she almost went through an entire box of tests, as all the ones she had taken surely had to be wrong, there must have been some sort of a mistake—she was already feeling nauseated and exhausted all the time, even after a relatively calm night of sleep.

          It runs in the family, though. Women start showing pregnancy symptoms around the fourth or fifth week and she was no exception to that, but they had something she didn't—they had the father of the baby with them, and they were certain they'd be supported, whatever their following decisions would be.

          Michaela felt nothing as she sat on her bathroom floor, surrounded by positive pregnancy tests. She hadn't properly closed the sink faucet and it dripped onto the porcelain surface, marking each second that passed, and all she wanted to do was breathe; calling someone was not an option, as she had no idea who she could talk to. It felt truly awful, as she wanted to think maybe Lila, Ginny and Jillian would be open for conversation, maybe Kelsey would have some words of comfort, maybe Roya would drop the snarky attitude and be supportive, maybe Lennox would make some lighthearted joke to ease the tension, maybe Lincoln would pick up the phone.

          Maybe her parents wouldn't be as furious as she thought they'd certainly be.

          That's why she didn't call them. Though there was a possibility of them not being angry, they'd still be disappointed—even if she's twenty-seven, even if she is in a stable financial situation, even if she knows how to take care of herself. They'd be disappointed because she should know better, especially when taking into consideration who the baby's father is—embryo, not baby, she tried to remind herself, as it made it a little bit easier to distance herself from the situation—when she should be the reckless one.

          They both made a mistake that night by not giving a damn about the consequences of their actions. All they could think about was each other and that moment, meaning everything else was secondary—including safety. Granted, things could have gone a lot worse and having a baby definitely isn't the worst possible outcome—Michaela is around seventy-five percent sure she can do this on her own, at least at the moment, and hopes it will only increase from now on—but it's not like everything was picture perfect.

          Thus, she decided to keep her mouth shut about the human being growing inside her and kept living her life, attending doctor's appointments as often as possible to make sure she was doing everything she's supposed to, ensuring her safety and the baby's—working out as often had to go, along with wine, other alcoholic beverages, and her ten daily cups of coffee, and she has to follow a meal plan, as her meals were clearly not enough to properly sustain one human being, let alone two.