Two weeks after our mutual confession of feelings, everything seemed to go in the best possible direction.
Clinton was more open and he was not afraid to show me affection in public.
At that moment, we stood in front of a food booth waiting in line.
"I saw you running fro. Owfly.fm to the Rocksound Stage," he replied, looking down at me with a condescending, yet reproachful look.
"Look Clinton, I'm sorry, but I had to, because I wouldn't have..." I began to explain, but I couldn't finish it.
"Baby, it's dangerous for you. You cannot overdo yourself that way. This is no longer the first trimester but the second" he replied overwhelmed, still squeezing my hand in his.
"Bear, please don't be upset. I promise you that it won't happen again" I put my arm around his waist and put my head into his stomach.
"I'm not nervous, I'm just worried about the child," he confessed sincerely, sighing.
"And what about me then?" I asked, feeling a wave of sadness rising in me. I have often had such trips. I cried once, and once I had laughter attacks.
"Well, about you too. What do you think at all..." he looked at me surprised by my question. He was right, it was stupid, even very.
Stress gave me signs. Sometimes I had cramps and various strange ailments such as flatulence. I couldn't bear Clinton's cologne scent, so he was forced to throw it away, although for three days he poisoned me about how much how much he liked using it.
"I feeling like I want onion rings" I said looking at the menu glued on the door of the booth.
"Double portion?" he raised an eyebrow up. We often took common portions, but all in all I ate almost all of them. He did it so that I wouldn't complain that it was too much for me.
"Mhmm..." I put my hand under his shirt, touching his clearly marked stomach.
"You tease me again, huh?" he laughed melodiously, looking at me slightly flustered by my very transparent behavior.
"Always, babe" I said, looking at the people around me.
Everyone played and laughed. Many of them were in groups, with friends. They lived the time of their lives, while my incredibly handsome boyfriend stood among all these people. I felt happy, I had everything I could wish for.
My parents would be proud of me. Especially my dad. He always dreamed about someone the best for me, and I knew that if he was here, he would be happy to be a grandfather.
"You recognise Cal Jensen?" I asked suddenly, not knowing why I was doing this.
"That bass player from Mischevious Lowriders?" Clint asked, not sure if I meant that person.
"Yep" I nodded, pressing my lips together.
"And what about him?" the boy seemed to be slightly distracted by my question.
"He was my father" I choked out, barely holding back tears.
"Oh" boy stood in front of me, putting his hands on my shoulders "I'm so sorry. He was a really good man. I heard he died in a car accident with his wife three years ago."
"I..." I began, looking him in the eyes "They were coming to me..." I began to sob, hugging his torso. I embraced him, mumbling in his shirt "I was graduating. And they didn't make it, and then I found out... My older sister blames me, I know that."
"Baby, no one blames you for anything. Such things happen" he was convincing me, stroking my back so that I would feel better "Breathe deeply, just like me."
I felt his chest rise and fall evenly. I tried to imitate him.
After a few long minutes of waiting, Clinton ordered food for us, then we went to the bus.
I didn't feel very well, so instead of sitting together on the bed, I went to the bathroom to take vitamins and anti-stress medications.
I sat on the toilet, feeling a stabbing short pain. I opened my mouth in surprise at the blood on the toilet paper.
"Clinton!" I screamed completely terrified.
The boy quickly ran to open the door. He looked at me confused, noticing my scared look.
"Something is very wrong," I said, breaking down in tears.
***
I was lying in a ward with Clinton at my side, holding my hand. The doctor was supposed to tell us what had happened. We quickly drove to the hospital by ambulance, and there they quickly took me. I was hoping that everything was fine with the baby.
"Mr. Cave?" an older doctor entered the room, looking at the boy sitting next to me.
"Yes" he nodded, getting up.
"I need to talk to you," the doctor said, stepping out into the corridor.
Clinton looked at me, squeezing my hand tightly, then let her go, going out to talk to the man.
They talked about ten minutes. I saw them through the glass. Clinton nodded from time to time, saying something briefly. I was scared, but there was no despair in his eyes, so it was probably good.
Suddenly the doctor said goodbye to the dark-haired man and he returned to the room.
"How's the baby?" I asked, slightly shaky voice.
"You have to go home, you can't work anymore. I'm sorry, Angeline..." he sat back in his chair, taking my hand in his "You don't produce enough hormones responsible for maintaining the pregnancy. It's because of stress... You'll have to take injections and lie down a lot. Fortunately, he's fine."
"He's?" I asked, raising my eyebrows up.
"It's a boy," he nodded, with tears in his eyes.
"Our little boy" I felt his arms wrapping around me, and I started to cry. This time from happiness.
"All right?" we heard from the door.
I looked up, seeing Mitchel standing in the doorway with chocolates and a bouquet of roses.
"Yes, yes, come in," Clinton said, moving away from me, sitting in a chair.
"Everything is fine, I just have to lie down a lot" I told him "Where are the boys?"
"They're here, only nobody wanted to let more than one person in here. Fucking rules" sighed the boy, coming up to me and squeezing me tightly "It's for you, I knew you like them"
"Choco's" I looked at the box of chocolates "Oh my gosh, Mitch, you are so lovely..."
I took chocolates from him, and Clinton took the flowers, not knowing what to do with them, so he put them on the cupboard next to the bed.
"I need to go back to Los Angeles with her," he said to his younger brother.
"No problem, we can do without you for two shows," said the boy, sitting down on the other side of my bed.
"I'm going to call MDDN to buy airplane tickets," Clint sighed heavily, getting up and leaving the room.
"He is very relieved," said Mitchel, looking at the brother standing in the corridor.
"I know, he's tired like me," I said, looking past Clinton, whose back I could see through the glass. "I hope it's all worth it..."
"It'll be for sure"a boy with braids assured me, squeezing my hand.
////
What do you think about such a development of events?
