Orphan

Chapter 65

When you've bitten off more than you can chew, you really only have two options; either spit out what's stuck in your mouth or choke on the choice you've made. Bit harsh, some might say, but it's the inevitable truth. Some secrets you die with, others find a way to get out and terrorise your conscience. Thus, begins the horrendously soul-sucking torture that is pregnancy... fake pregnancy, that is. A week of waking up early to either sit in the shower crying over the choices she had made or throwing up due to the knot in her stomach which was supposed to be a growing baby. Monique stared emptily at the bathroom mirror, not recognising herself at this point. How would she continue this lie? One which would have to start physically showing sooner than she would like.

Granted, the lie resulted in an increased level of care and security around her at all times, but what she feared more than anything else was the lack thereof once the truth came out. Harry would by no means handle it well, he would never be able to trust her again, and she would go back to having the living crap beat out of her. Monique's thoughts were hushed when she felt her feet get drenched by warm liquid, her eyes shot down to find a puddle of water where she stood. Her attention seemingly elsewhere she had forgotten to tighten the faucet, which was still flowing with water and overflowing the sink. Panic swept over her as she stopped the hot water and absentmindedly pulled the plug bare-handed. A shriek, shrill cry left her mouth causing her to slip in the puddle at her feet and land butt first on the tiled floor. "Monique! Open up what happened? Are you okay?" Harry's voice was deeper than usual, perhaps due to the early morning rasp it had acquired. The doorknob violently thrashed about, for a moment she was sure it would come right off. After she had realised she had been silent for too long she piped up, voice cracking from lack of speech. "I...I am. I'm fine, sorry just slip-" before she could finish her sentence the door burst open and Harry's stressed face was all she could see now, his breathing picked up rather quickly while he surveyed her semi-wet figure on the floor surrounded by some water which had now stretched its way through the cracks of tile and created little streams.

"How the hell did this happen, you need to be more careful! Don't move," he huffed picking her up slowly, walking over to the bed and placing her down on it, removing the wet shirt which adorned her body while she slept at night. "How does your stomach feel? How did you fall?"
"I wasn't paying attention and I accidently let the warm water overrun the sink and burnt my hand, so I slipped, that's all I'm fine just stop please." Her guilt flooded over her as he inspected the empty vessel which was her stomach, whispering to the child he was soon to father that everything would be fine, eyes covered in worry. "Harry, stop. Harry...Harry Stop!" her embarrassment and guilt now getting the better of her as Harry stared up at the girl, now genuinely confused as to whether he really had gone too far. Much to her surprise her anger and sudden outburst had caused none of the sort to come out of him, he merely stared at her, somewhat taken aback and nodded. "I'm gonna dry the floors, lay down." He muttered, his eyes never leaving hers. As if he was waiting, waiting for some type of response which never came, she nodded. She brought her legs up on the bed and dug her heels into the bed pushing herself back, her heart beating faster than she would like. This charade would have to end soon, or it would end her.

"Are you feeling better?" Harry grabbed one of his old shirts and wiped up the spill, before turning his attention to her through the open slung bathroom door, while he wrung out the liquid into the sink. "I am. Sorry." She breathed out the last part, he disregarded it and continued with his work, putting the shirt over the shower door to dry off as he made his way to the bed drying off his hands on his boxers. "Are you okay?" he questioned again, unsatisfied with the answer she had given. "Harry, I said I was okay three times now, I promise I'm alright."

"I heard you for the past three days now getting up and gagging in the bathroom, is it morning sickness?" for a man who wanted nothing to do with emotion, he sure was worried. Her heart dropped, she wanted to belt it out, she wanted to scream that it wasn't related to a child growing within her womb, changing her hormones, but rather her guilt burning holes into the walls of her stomach and eating her from the inside out. "Mhm...I can't keep anything down lately."

"We should go to the doctor." Her heart leapt into her throat and she found herself unable to speak for the third time that morning. "Not now." She finally sighed grabbing the new dry shirt he had tossed onto the bed, throwing it over her naked body. "And why not?"
"I don't want to go now, Harry."
"We don't have to go now, but we have to go soon." She merely nodded in agreement, too tied up in her own complicated lie to know how to untangle herself. She had no way to save herself this time. Within a few silent minutes, Liam's loud voice had bounced off the walls, calling for Harry. Monique's heart stopped briefly. "Harry, I have something important we need to discuss." He stepped in with one knock to the door. "Come in, what's the problem?"
the door opened to reveal a very stiff Liam, arms crossed over his chest as he glanced between her and Harry. "In private, it concerns some...things of recent happening." Liam's eyes cast over the feverish girl sat on the bed, a fire burning within him waiting to erupt and she knew it.

Liam wasn't going to keep up the farce much longer. "Okay, I'll be down now." Harry muttered standing from his spot on the bed and her hands shook with fear, grabbing onto Harry's tattooed arm as Liam left to go downstairs. "Hang on," She stuttered, gulping down whatever shame she could dissolve down her throat. "What's wrong?" He asked, brows furrowed as usual as he stared down at her, eyes trailing to her fingers which glazed over his forearm and slid its way higher to his bicep. The silence in the air was nothing compared to the tension between the two as of this moment. Her breathing picked up at a considerable speed as she looked to him with glazed orbs biting the bottom skin of her lip, gently placing his hand onto the crevice of her neck, moving his hand down to her collarbone until the collar of the shirt refused to reveal much more. She let go of his hand and left him to continue the trail, his body now finding a life of its own as he pushed her back down onto the bed, leaning over her small frame and discarding the shirt she had put on just moments before. There was only one solution to the problem.