𝕥𝕠𝕠 𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖 • 𝕞.𝕔

chapter 7

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   Those last four weeks had been a total blur. It was like time had been passing awfully swiftly, leaving me hardly enough time to work on my articles. I had a job, I thought. I wanted to focus mostly on my job, and on the money I would be earning. I needed it. I couldn't actually rely on my grandmother's heritage until the day I died now, could I? It would have been silly, stupid and lazy to think so, so I'd rather not.

   But although everything in me was screaming work, work, work, something was reminding me constantly the way my life was turning. I didn't know whether it was for the better or for the worst, but I was anxious. This little bump that was slowly but surely forming itself on my belly was there to keep recalling me what I'd done. 

Which was a mistake- I knew it, that word kept echoing in my head. I had no one but Emma here for me. I was so thankful for her presence, and she was always here to remind me that it was okay. It technically helped that she wasn't really busy with her life, so she could be fully a part of mine. And I was even impressed about the way she could go from this carefree chick to a responsible, lovely and mature adult. I loved both sides, but at that very moment, I needed the second one the most to guide me through everything.

   I hadn't gotten any news from Michael. He'd text me once or twice that we'd have to meet up sometime, but he never ended showing up. 

The slightest bit of hope I'd have at first, in that restaurant had vanished as promptly as it'd arrived. But today was the day of the first scan, and I was hoping that he wouldn't be late, and that he'd actually come. And if not, then, I didn't know what I'd do, but I'd most likely be devastated. And I didn't need that right now.

•••

   I fiddled with my ring, on my own in the waiting room. I hated the atmosphere here; it smelled like hospital, it was quiet, and every pregnant woman sitting there was at least accompanied by their husband, or boyfriend, or at least someone. Emma was at work, and obviously, Michael still wasn't here. I was wondering if he'd even come, although I had texted him the time and place repeatedly, earning no answer.

   I glanced at my watch nervously, sighing loudly. Every look was on me now; everybody in this room was much older than me. I was the young one, alone, and I wondered what they thought about me at this very moment.

 I figured out they certainly weren't thinking really nice things, so I refused to think about it any more. The noise of a door opening caught my attention, and I saw him; lanky, tall, with black messy hair. Michael. He was wearing a denim jacket over a black t-shirt, and black skinny jeans. I rolled my eyes at his sight.

"Hey," he sat down next to me. "Am I late?"

I couldn't help but smiled. "You're okay. I thought you'd never come."

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that," his strong accent was making his voice much sexier than it already was. "I'm sorry I haven't been very available lately."

"You mean, totally unavailable."

"Listen, I've been working and doing things!" he protested.

"And I've been carrying your baby!" I roared out of anger.

   He opened his mouth to protest, but ended up shutting it, sitting back into his seat, slouched into it. I couldn't believe how inconsiderate he seemed, and I hated myself a bit more each second for even giving him a chance in the first place. Sure, he had a nice voice, and pretty eyes, but that wasn't everything. That wasn't what was interesting me. And maybe I was too serious about it all, but this was a serious issue, and seeing he treated it like nothing just made me upset. There was no other word.

   A few minutes, the doctor called both of us. Michael was in charge of filling papers with information about us. I was on a whole other level of nervous, and I couldn't help showing it.

"How are you?" the doctor asked. He must've been in his mid-fourties, and he looked friendly enough for me to trust him.

"Alright, I guess," I responded, tapping my hands on the seat I was about to lay in. 

"You do look nervous," he chuckled, coming back to me. "Okay, you can lay down now, we'll proceed to the ultrasound scan."

"Okay." I felt butterflies in my stomach, and didn't say anything for a while. "Do you think the baby is fine?"

"We'll see that right now," he sat down on the computer-like machine right in front of me, and lifted my top. He sprayed this cold blue-ish gel on my stomach, which made me cringe instantly. I clutched tightly onto the seat, my fingers digging in the white-ish, leather like fabric.

   I wanted to cry, to weep every tear I had left in my body. I was afraid of so many things, mostly to see the baby. I didn't want it to be here, and I wasn't excited to see it. I wasn't looking forward to the next minutes. Accepting my situation was a lot harder than it should have ever been.

   The doctor put this weird, white and thick electric wand on my belly, and started rubbing it over the gel. I saw a picture appearing on the screen, but it was almost all black, and I couldn't distinguish the shape of the small bean-like thing in the middle. But after a while, I saw it, perfectly, and my heart started racing.

"Calm down," the doctor laughed. "So, here it goes. You see right there, it's the baby's body, and the head. And the heart beating right there."

   I didn't say anything and wanted to run away, but still felt a bit of tenderness in my heart. Michael was staying quiet, too. He hadn't said a word from the moment the doctor had spoken to the both of us. I caught my breath, when I felt Michael touching my hand, which caused me to feel a little relaxed. He then proceeded to catch it, squeezing once, twice, three times. I looked at him, and his eyes were on the screen.

"Is the baby doing okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," the doctor answered. "Well and healthy."

"Okay," Michael then said quietly.

"Okay," I repeated.

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A/N: literally stop comparing the okay? okay part to tfios for frick's sake it's really annoying