Page 52 of Forever

We’re going to have a baby.

What the actual fuck?

Babies are small and noisy. They cry and make demands and poop all over the place. They need a lot of shit and attention and did I mention they cry? Loudly. They never let you sleep at night and …

How is that even possible? We were always careful. She’s on pill and I’m … fuck!

I stumble back on the bench. Cold wood pressing against my back.

“I’m sorry, Will. I know this is not how it was supposed to go. We talked about it. We were supposed to wait a bit, but …”

A baby. We’re having a baby.

A little human being that is has a part of Anabel and part of me. Something we created together.

My eyelids fall closed, and I rub my face, my hands going through my already messy hair. A little girl like Bel with dark curls and vivid blue eyes. A girl with a mischievous smile that will make me do anything she want. Or maybe a boy with messy brown hair and brown eyes who I’ll teach how to play ball.

Images start appearing behind my eyes in flashes. So vivid. So real.

My heart aches with longing and I realize something.

Although I’m scared, I want it. I want that little human so bad.

“Will?” Bel’s shaky voice brings me out of my mind.

“How long did you know?”

She looks away, swallowing hard. “I never took the test. Everything was happening so fast. I was stressed about the thesis and internship and wedding … And after our talk when Si and J.D. announced their pregnancy I was scared of what you’ll say.” Tears gather in her eyes and I feel like a total dick. “Not doing the test meant I can keep living in the bubble of denial for a little while longer.”

Anabel thought she couldn’t tell me. She thought I’d be mad because she got pregnant before we planned it. I want to punch something. I want to yell at her and ask her does she really think I’m the kind of man who would turn his back on her just because things didn’t go the way we planned it, but I don’t.

A part of me understands this is not her talking, it’s the fear.

The distance that’s been between us on and off for the last year.

There were days when even I asked myself what if. What if she found somebody who’ll make her laugh over here? What if she fell in love? What if the distance becomes too much? What if …

“Let’s go.” I get up from my seat once again with her in my arms.

“Go where?”

“To buy the test.”

*

I didn’t let her go, no matter how much she protested. If I thought she’s precious before she detonated the baby-bomb, now I’ll be even more protective of her.

Her and our baby.

Because, yes. Anabel is pregnant.

At least, according to the three tests sitting on the bathroom counter.

I dragged her to the pharmacy and bought the tests and then I almost ran back to her place so that she can take them and we can find out if she’s really pregnant or if it’s something else.

“What are we going to do?” she utters, nervously biting at her nails.

Although she suspected she’s pregnant, she still seems surprised. Maybe she was holding onto the hope that this isn’t real. That there was a possibility that she isn’t pregnant.

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