"There is no harm in trying, ma'am. I am not saying that you are, but just so to be sure."
Can someone please give me a very reasonable reason why I shouldn't fire this nosy bitch! Men, how annoying can people be, really? First, she made me muffle my lungs out with that ridiculous hoax she pulled back there. Freaking, right? After chasing her away to go get me a glass of water to ease my restlessness, she came back with this shitty thing she calls a pregnancy kit or whatever, insisting that I should test for pregnancy.
I mean, who is she to insist on that? Who made her my doctor? Does she know the intensity of what she is insinuating? No, of course not, because she won't be here insensitively ranting, so forget that for now, but how can I be pregnant? For God's sake, what sort of a joke is that?
I admit that we haven't used protection all those times we have had sex with Jerol but, he has a problem, right? Good grief! I am thankful that he is not even here to listen to this stupid joke of this bitch. I mean, can you imagine what he would feel? His reaction?
"For the millionth time, Terry, I say there is no need. I can't be pregnant." I fume, everything, every single ounce in me wants to laugh at this joke, but then there is something so strong holding me back from doing so. Something worryingly strong and perplexing.
That slight, "what if". But, come on, right? That ought to be the worst joke of the century. This can't happen now, especially not to me. If he hasn't been fruitful enough to sire anyone before through sex, then how can it start with me? It can't. Plus, just a single sign doesn't mean anything.
Single sign?
Aha! Well, how many are they? Damn! I can't... No! This is simply not meant to happen. It can't. Simple. Period!
"But, why are you so sure that you aren't pregnant ma'am when the signs are there?" Terry speaks again. She is bent on irritating my nerves.
Why can't she freaking mind her own business, huh? What's her business with me for hell's sake!
And yeah, I want to believe that I am so certain that I can't be pregnant, but what reason do I give her? That my husband has a low sperm count? Hell, she is not even supposed to be asking me questions to begin with right? I am here freaking boss!
"You know what, Terry, you maybe forget that I am your boss. If I say there is nothing like pregnancy here you should leave the fuck at that!" I state, sounding like a really bossy bitch.
I know I have never spoken to her this way before, but she is making me do it. She is making my arse and my ears itch, everything, actually is itching! Real bad! I can't handle this anxiety and fear. I can't handle the notion of her joke turning into reality. That will be so damn messy!
"I...am so sorry ma'am! Sorry!" She says, apologetically.
"Good. You can leave now!" I say.
She bows slightly, turning on her heels.
"Leave that here!" The words just rolled out, and I can't even tell why. "And one more thing, this shouldn't get out of this door, are we clear?" I add.
"Clear ma'am! Not even a word about this. You can count on me. I am so sorry once again." She apologizes, hiking out.
She swerves around, handing me the kit that she has been hugging in her hands for the last long minutes. I grab it with a certain bitchy attitude that I can't control.
After she leaves, I lazily stroll into the washroom, the desire to prove that bitch wrong spewing all over me. I can't wait to slap the shitty kit to her face when it turns out negative.
I try and follow the instructions she had given. I hope I did it right though, because I highly doubt I was paying any attention to her when she was ranting. All the same, I believe I did it right.
Falling in love was not part of the agreement, yet we did. Yes, we, because I believe there is a good reason as to why he sleeps with me. The way he cares is the way he does. Why he doesn't want us to talk about that agreement. We broke the first rule. Sex wasn't supposed to be anywhere in close in our five months together. But here we are, having it like it's a basic need. Another rule down.
There were not supposed to be any feelings attached to this contract marriage. But we are swimming in a quagmire of feelings. Deep feelings. This can't be yet another mistake topping the list. This will be completely messed up. We can't drown in this. God, we can't. We can't.
What would even Jerol think of me, huh? How would he take the news?
Minutes flew fast, and I find myself standing in front of the kit after a very short moment according to my anxious self.
I mumble a short prayer, hoping that the heavens have their doors and windows wide open to heed to my plea.
Two lines-positive.
One line - negative. That's what I want to see. One line. It must be that. I believe in miracles but not this time around. It shouldn't happen right now. Not this way.
With shaky hands, I reach fo the kit, flipping it.
Two dreadful red lines!
Mistake! Big mistake!
No!
I choke on nothing! Purely nothing! My stomach forms countless knots. Everything in my belly turned into ice. Even my throat is turning icy. The air that I am breathing turns too icy for my nostrils too. Everything stands still, witnessing this wrong!
I try to focus on these two possibly impossible lines I am seeing, hoping for a miracle to change whatever I am seeing. Seconds pass, turning into dreadful minutes of a combo of fear and dread and uncertainty and everything negative.
The lines appear more clearly than before, as if mocking me. There is no miracle happening, or maybe I am in reality staring at one right now! But a bad one! I take in a deep amount of air, and release it in a go.
I am pregnant! I am pregnant for Jerol!
No!
How come? Why? How?
Why God?
Isn't it enough that our situation is as complicated as it is? Why did this have to happen? How are we going to handle this? How will I even tell him? No, how can I even tell him? How?