<b>75 </b>
CATERINA
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Get it together.
Only I can’t hear anything but the roaring of blood in my ears.
<b>“</b>Wh–what did you say?” I can barely hear my voice. “Sorry. I’m… Can’t find the words. Can hardly breathe. I’m going to hyperventte if I don’t calm down. Deep breaths. Slow, deep breaths while the pieces of my life that just shattered all around me drop to the floor in a million fragments.
I walked in here, knowing it was possible. I even knew it was a better oue than if I was sick. I won’t lie, I was still hoping for something simple, like stress..
Fate liad other ns. Nowes the actual stress.
“Based on your reaction<b>, </b>this is a surprise.” The doctor pulls off his gloves and tosses them into a trash can while I lie here, dressed in this thin paper gown, with my feet still in stirrups. He indeed said what I thought he did, didn’t he? My ears aren’t ying tricks on me.
I’m really pregnant.
He pats my hand before rolling away on his wheeled chair to type something into hisputer. “Now<b>, </b>if you require any counseling, we do have staff who we can happily schedule you to see someone. If that isn’t of interest to <b>you</b><b>, </b>we also have other options we can discuss. You need to make the choice that is best for you.”
Do I need counseling? What other choice would I make? I can’t understand anything this man is saying, and even if I could, I don’t know what I would say to him. I can’t think or string words together right now. My tongue is heavy, making it hard for me to speak.
By the time he’s finished typing his notes out, I manage to find my voice. “How could this have happened? I mean, I know how it happened,” I quickly mumble, my cheeks burning. “But I’ve been taking my birth control pills consistently.”
“Sometimes, it happens that way. There are a number of reasons why your pills may have failed. Have you been on any type of medication? How has your health been otherwise?”
I shrug. <b>“</b>It’s been fine, I guess.<b>” </b>
How am I supposed to remember? I’m still alive, so I guess well enough for my heart to keep beating. All I can do is stare at this man and wait for the news to sink in.
It hasn’t yet.
Not even close.
He offers a sympathetic little smile. “I understand. These types of things are the reason birth controlean never be viewed as one -hundred percent effective. No matter what, you have plenty of time to make a well–thought–out decision.
“Thank you.” The fact is, I have a difficult time thinking that far into the future. I am barely able to think past this moment, and my lungs seem to be shrinking, refusing to ept the oxygen I’m providing them. I’m pregnant. There is another human growing inside me. A human that is made up of both Gianni and me. It’s both wonderful and terrifying.
The doctor leaves me to get dressed, which I do on autopilot. How can I think of anything but the life growing inside me? It wasn’t supposed to be like this. There was supposed to be time to n and decide. I guess that was a childish assumption. These things happen all the time. It just never urred that it could happen to me. Yes, I know the risk of having <b>sex</b><b>, </b>but I was already taking all the steps to protect myself.
Panic spears me while I’m halfway through zipping my dress, my hands trembling. Oh, my God, what is Gianni going to think? Sure, he’s been saying that he wants me to have his child since the beginning, though he didn’t <b>say </b>right away. Not<b>, </b>like, immediately.
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Not while my father still hates him and thinks he killed Mom. Not when we are finally getting back to normal. This is not the kind of situation I want to bring my child into. My child, who I hadn’t even dreamed of yet.
I’m going to be’sick.
Breathe in. Breathe out. One thing at a time.
There’s no option. I have to tell him the truth. That’s all. We’ll get rough it together. He did say he wanted a baby, so there’s hope in that. This doesn’t have to be a bad thing; full of apologies and exnations. It can be a happy announcement.
The doctor wants to see me for an ultrasound in a month or so, I had to check out at reception and make the appointment. <b>It’s </b>like I’m a robot, doing what needs to be done on the surface while trying like hell not to freak out on the inside. That can’t be good for a baby–all the stress. Good Lord, I already have to think for the two of us<b>. </b>This is insane.
A baby.
I’m going to have a baby. It’s so surreal that I don’t know whether tough or <b>cry</b>. <b>It’s </b>so weird.
I wonder if everybody in the waiting room can see my shell–shocked expression for what it is as <b>I </b>make a beeline for the door. How many girls have left this office feeling as I do now? I should’ve asked Tatiana toe<b>–</b>no<b>, </b>on the other hand, I’m not sure I want her to know yet. I don’t want anybody to know.
Right now, <b>I </b>can be happy about it. It’s our secret, mine and the baby’s. And until the rest of the world finds out<b>, </b><b>I </b>can feel about it in any way I want to.
How do I feel? Scared as hell. I’m a little disappointed that it has to happen this way with so much drama surrounding us. I want to be happy. I want to have hope.
I’m having a baby.
I’m in such a rush to get to my car for one peaceful moment and think about all the revtions when I bump into another person. Shit. I lift my gaze with an apology on the tip of my tongue, only it never slips off. Not when the individual on the her gaze dragging over my body, judging me. receiving end is thest person to deserve an apology. Amalia sneers at me,
“Look who it is.”
“Amalia, I’m not in the mood for you.” Like I didn’t already have enough on my mind. Like she’s not part of the reason for the friction between Gianni and me.
“Now, who could you be here to see?” She removes her sunsses giving me a sharper view of her narrowed eyes. The woman is pure evil. It rolls off her in waves; icy<b>, </b>cold waves. “You look too healthy for the cardiologist.”
What a fucking bitch.
“Look, I need to go.”
“No, wait. This is fun.” She steps in front of me, blocking my way, still scanning through the list of doctors with offices in the building. “Dermatologist? You’re young, although you know how men are. They like us to look our best. Wouldn’t want crow’s feet to get in the way of your happy little rtionship.” She makes it sound ugly, and shameful. As if <b>I </b>should be embarrassed for loving Gianni.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” I ask, tipping my head to the side, studying her with utter disdain. I’m so tired of <b>her </b>shit. She’s scared. Of what? The world? Getting old? Getting hurt? Maybe all of it. Who the hell knows?! She turns it all into bitterness and hatred that she likes to project onto everyone around her.
Her glossy lips curve up into a snide grin. “A little.”
“I guess age is nothing but a number, since clearly you have the maturity of a teenager.” I can’t even believe I’m standing here, entertaining her.
“Hmmm. OB/GYN?” she mutters, arching an eyebrow. “No need to confirm or deny it. I can read you like a book.” I shake my head, ready to snap, when she continues, “Let me guess. He made you get an abortion.”
75
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end even as I refuse to let her see what she’s doing to me. A person like her feeds off the pain they inflict on others.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh god, no. Not at all. Keep telling yourself that. I was only married to the man for years. I know nothing about him. Nothing at all.” She folds her slim arms, sneering. “You act like I don’t know the man. Like I didn’t waste years of my life with him.”
“And yet you keep wasting your time on him when you could have been free by now, so do you really want to be free, or do you want to stay relevant in his mind?” I cross my arms over my chest to stop myself from punching in her stupid straight nose.
She smacks her lips together, “Let me do you a favor, honey.”
“I don’t need anything from you.”