Unrequited

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Alex was sketching in the conservatory since even on an overcast December afternoon, it had the best light, when Tom disturbed her by opening the door. He froze when he saw her, clearly surprised to see her.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were in here. I’ll go.”

“Wait!” she called as he turned to leave and he half turned back, onviously uncomfortable with being in her presence. She took a deep breath so she didn’t sound quite so hysterical. “Please.”

She gestured to the sofa opposite and he sat down, although he only perched on the edge, as if ready to bolt at any moment. Given that she had asked him to stay away from her, she could hardly blame him.

“I’m sorry I unloaded all that on you last night,” she said, guilt having eaten away at her, once her self-pity faded. “Not only was it unfair of me, I promised myself I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“Well the decision to have the baby or not was taken out of my hands, so only one of us needed to be burdened with it.”

“It is my fault though, at least partly, and wholly for dodging your calls. I am sorry about that but when I woke up the next morning, all I could think about was Sean, and how hurt he’d be. He’s my oldest friend and I don’t think too clearly with a hangover at the best of times. Once I came to my senses and realised how badly I acted, I was too ashamed to face you. I’m sorry.”

Alex took a deep breath. “It’s okay, I understand.”

He looked at her and for a moment, his intense gaze seemed to freeze her and for the life of her, she couldn’t decipher his expression. Finally he looked away and she breathed easily again.

“I just want to ask, without any recrimination here, I only want to understand, but you told me you were on the pill.”

She nodded. “I was. Unfortunately I was popping pills that week for a bout of food poisoning and it wasn’t until I was two weeks late that I remembered, some antibiotics can affect the pill. My fault.”

“No, we should have used something more. Normally I always use a condom, regardless of what other birth control… well…”

“It’s okay, Tom, you don’t have to walk on egg shells around me. Seeing you brought it all rushing back but I suppose I need to accept that grief is a cyclical thing, not a steady improvement.

“Grief?” he asked. “Were you going to keep it?”

She shrugged. “I hadn’t decided to be honest. An abortion would have been easiest all around but despite the hassle I’d get from my family, I was tempted. Like you said, business is good enough that I could probably afford to rent premises now, if I wanted to. Of course, a baby could set those plans back but I’m happy enough working from home. I own my own flat and the mortgage is low thanks to the recession, I even have a small patch of garden, plus I have a spare bedroom that I could turn into nursery. I’d have to move my sewing stuff, but the living room is spacious so I could probably work in there. I don’t know if my clients would really be happy with a baby underfoot as we did fittings but I think I could afford a nanny, at least part time and… and I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, it’s all a bit of a moot point now.”

She had to blink a few times to get rid of her tears but she managed not to cry.

Before the miscarriage she’d tried not to indulge in fantasies of her and Tom playing happy families, she wasn’t foolish enough to think that a baby would change his feelings for her but at times, she hadn’t been able to stop herself. She had pretty much made up her mind to keep the baby, regardless of how Tom felt, but she wouldn’t insist he be a part of their lives, nor would she demand child support.