Missing You Again

Thick and Thin

Hospitals. My least favourite places in the world. I didn't have a single good memory of a hospital and plenty of bad ones. The awful last days of my mother's illness. The terrible days trying to comfort my sister over the loss of her child and the slow, relentless decline of her husband. For my family hospitals were synonymous with tragedy. I couldn't wait to leave.

Zacky waited silently as I signed the last of the forms that would allow me to escape that sterile hell and head home. As we walked to the car he slid his hand into mine and entwined our fingers but still he didn't speak. The morning sunlight was blinding and its brightness didn't help the headache that was building behind my eyes. Still silent, Zacky unlocked the car and held the passenger door open for me.

Once my seat belt was secure he shut the door with the kind of soft whump that was only possible with an expensive vehicle. I pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger in an attempt to ease the pressure in my head. Zacky slid into the driver's seat and handed me a pair of sunglasses as he set his own pair in place.

For the entire duration of the drive from the hospital back to my house, although he held my hand across the centre console for most of it, he remained quiet. Usually I'd fill the silence with pointless small talk. It was a talent of mine. This time I was too emotionally wrung out to even attempt to chat. I watched the road and occasionally, grateful for the shield of the sunglasses I wore, I turned my eyes to Zacky. He was never what I'd describe as tanned but even for him his pallor was unusual. His jaw was tense and he chewed relentlessly on his lower lip. I'd have given anything to know what was running through his head but I didn't have the energy to ask. Truth be told it was safe to say that I was afraid to question him.

It wasn't until I was wrapped in a fuzzy blanket and we were seated on my sofa that he finally spoke. "I don't understand why," he said and my mind raced with all the possible whys that he could be asking about.

It hurt my brain to try and work it out so I simply asked, "Why what?"

"Sean. Why would he ask this of you? Why would he just fly off back to London and leave you like this? Why did neither of you even think to tell me what you were planning?"

Well that was not what I expected.

Not even slightly.

"Sean?" I questioned in a startled whisper.

Zacky scrubbed his hands over his face before his gaze met mine. His eyes were rimmed with red and the anxious hours at the hospital had left him looking tired and drawn. "Fuck! I knew he'd been planning for it, he told me all about it when he was showing me around his house before I moved in. Even pointed out what a perfect place it is for a kid if I want to bring mine around. Shit! I just didn't realise he meant that you were going to be his surrogate!"

My mouth fell open. I was dumbfounded. I couldn't believe that instead of realising that he was my baby's father he jumped to the insane conclusion that I was playing surrogate for Sean and Wes. The entire situation felt surreal.

Mentally playing back everything that had happened after a panic stricken Zacky had rushed into the bathroom to find me sitting ghostly pale on the toilet with tears streaming down my cheeks as I stared at a blood smeared piece of toilet paper, I realised that his assumption wasn't as outrageous as it initially seemed.

Zacky's original thought when he saw me was that I'd cut or injured myself in some way. Somehow in my almost hysterical state I managed to inform him that I was pregnant and I thought I was having a miscarriage. He'd swung into efficient action then and had me dressed and at the hospital before I'd realised through my shock and terror what was happening. I'd allowed him to take charge and it wasn't until he suggested calling my sister that I balked. I'd adamantly rejected the idea of calling Caitie or even Steph and insisted he call Sean. It was a stupid idea, Sean was in London and there was nothing he could do, but my brain obviously wasn't firing on all cylinders and all I could focus on was that firstly, I wouldn't be going in to the office at nine and that secondly, Sean was the only person who knew not only that I was pregnant but also the identity of the father. I needed someone who knew the truth, other than me, to know what was going on.