I check myself in and pick up a magazine from the waiting room table, then spend twenty minutes pretending to read it. I’m fidgeting and pulling at my clothes to try and cool myself down. I really do feel sick, my nauseous state only worsened when, like an omen, I come across an article expressing the arguments for and against termination. A despairing laugh falls from my lips.
‘Something funny?’
I freeze in my waiting room chair as Jesses familiar brogue washes over me, then I snap the magazine shut. ‘You followed me?’ I ask, completely stunned as I turn to face him.
‘You’re a rubbish liar, baby.’ he states factually, but softly. He’s right, I’m shit at it, but I need to work on it if I’m going to stay with this man. If I’m going to stay? Did I really just think that? ‘Are you going to tell me why you’re at the doctors and why you lied to me about it?’ He rests his hand on my bare knee and circles it slowly as he watches me intently.
I throw the magazine back on the table. There is no escaping this man. ‘Just a check-up.’ I mutter to my knee, trying to shift it from his grasp.
‘A check-up?’ His tone has altered significantly. He’s not soft and soothing anymore. There’s an edge of anger to it.
I feel his hand tighten. He cannot dictate this. ‘Yes,’
‘Don’t you think we should we doing this together?’ he asks.
Together? My shock makes my angry eyes swing straight to his, finding curious greens greeting me. I scan his face, just as he does mine, and his hand eases up on my knee. I yank my leg away. ‘Like the decision you made to try and get me knocked up? Did we do that together?’
‘No,’ he answers quietly, turning away from me.
I stare at his perfect profile, unwilling to relent and turn away. He has some nerve and now my despondency has been thoroughly chased away and replaced with my earlier anger, only now it’s amplified. ‘You can’t even look at me, can you? You know what you’ve done is wrong. I pray to God I’m not pregnant, Jesse, because I wouldn’t inflict the shit you put me through on my worst enemy, let alone my baby.’
It’s him who looks shocked now. His eyes are narrowed, his hair starting to dampen at his temples from a stressed sweat. ‘I know you’re pregnant, and I know how it’ll be.’
‘Oh?’ I don’t bother restraining my laugh. ‘How’s that, then?’
His face softens and he makes my heart slow when he reaches for my cheek and gently strokes it. My lips part slightly and his thumb runs over my bottom one, dragging it with his stroke as he watches. ‘Perfect.’ he whispers, flicking his eyes to mine.
Our gazes are locked for a short time, but I’m snapped from the spell that he places me under when my name is called, and I’m swiftly brought back to where I am and why. My anger swiftly returns, too. It wouldn’t be perfect. Maybe for him, but for me it would be torture. I’m not setting myself up for that. I stand up, causing his hand to fall from my knee and his other from my face, but to my utter shock, Jesse quickly rises, too. Oh no! He is not coming in with me. This is going to be mortifying enough, without my neurotic Lord adding to the messy equation. Doctor Monroe will likely have something to say about me requesting an abortion, and that’s without the added knowledge of me being married. It would take far too much explaining. I don’t want to explain. Anyway, if I am pregnant, I need Jesse not to know. He would never let me terminate his baby, and I hate to think of what lengths he’d go to in order to stop me. I can control my poor lying for something this important. I have no choice. It’s the only way.
‘Don’t you dare!’ I grate, and he recoils. ‘Sit!’ I point to the chair and flash him the most threatening face I can muster. It’s hard. I could vomit at any moment. I feel terrible, and really really hot.
Much to my utter shock, he wisely lowers himself back down to the chair gingerly, his expression truly dazed by my outburst. I turn and leave him looking like he’s been slapped in the face, and take a deep, encouraging breath before entering my doctor’s office.
‘Ava! Good to see you.’ Doctor Monroe is probably one of the nicest women I have ever met—early fifties, a little bit of middle age spread and a sharp blonde bob. She has all the time in the world for you… normally. She wasn’t so pleased when I presented myself for the third time to replace my lost pills.
‘And you, Doctor.’ I reply nervously, as I perch myself on the end of a chair.
She looks concerned. ‘Are you okay? You look a bit green.’
‘I’m fine, I just feel a bit icky. It’s probably the heat.’ I fan my face. It’s even hotter in here.
‘Are you sure?’ she asks, genuinely concerned.
I feel my chin start to tremble, only serving to increase the concern on her round features. ‘I’m pregnant!’ I blurt. ‘I know you’ll give me a hard time about the pills, but I really don’t need it, so please don’t make me feel any worse. I know I’m a fool.’
Her concern transforms into sympathy immediately. ‘Oh, Ava.’ She reaches for my hand, and I feel like I could cry harder, her empathy only making me feel like even more of a hopeless fool. ‘Here.’ She hands me a tissue, and I blow my nose nosily. ‘When was your period due?’
‘Today.’ I answer swiftly.
Her eyes widen. ‘Only today?’ she asks. I nod. ‘Ava, what makes you so certain. Your period can be a few days late, just as it can be early.’
‘Trust me, I know.’ I sniffle. I’m no longer in denial, and I’m facing this head-on. My emotions are all over the place.
She frowns and reaches into her drawer. ‘Take this to the toilet.’ she says, handing me a pregnancy test.
I very nearly ask if I can do the test in her office, but with the absence of a toilet, I quickly realise the problem, so leaving Doctor Monroe’s office, I peek down the corridor to the waiting area and see Jesse’s back. He’s still sitting down, but he’s leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees with his head in his hands. I don’t dwell on his obvious despair and walk quickly into the ladies.
Five minutes later, I’m back with my Doctor and staring at the test, which is neatly positioned at the other end of her desk. She taps away on her keyboard while I frantically tap my foot on the floor. I hold my breath when she reaches over and picks the test up, looking down at it briefly before turning her eyes on me.
‘Positive,’ she says simply, holding it up for me to see myself. I knew it would be, but the confirmation makes it even more of a reality, and it also enflames the hurt and madness that has brought me to this point in my life.
I can’t seem to cry, though. ‘I want a termination.’ I say clearly, looking straight into Doctor Monroe’s eyes. ‘Can you please make the arrangements?’
I watch as she visibly sags in her chair. ‘Ava, of course, this is your decision, but it’s my job to give you the options.’
‘Which are?’
‘Adoption, support. There are many single mothers out there who manage just fine, and with your parent’s support, I’m certain you’ll be well looked after.’
I cringe. ‘I want a termination.’ I repeat, ignoring all of her advice and sincerity. She’s absolutely right, though. I would be looked after by my parents… if I was single. But I’m not. I’m married.