Page 49 of Dual
It's strange to think about how far we've come. From broken, traumatized teenagers to this—standing in a glitteringballroom, building a life together despite everything that tried to tear us apart.
"You've done a remarkable job," the mayor is saying, bringing my attention back to our conversation. "The city would be interested in potentially partnering with your foundation for a summer reading initiative as well."
"That would be wonderful," I respond, already mentally calculating how many more children we could reach with city support.
I'm still glowing when I stop by the restroom, texting Domhn this time about where I am, chuckling to myself at his constant vigilance over me.
I settle inside a stall and start my business, only to look down and notice that there's some blood in my underwear.
My period started.
In an instant, all the good feelings in my chest evaporate in an icy flood. Tears suddenly clog my throat.
Not pregnant.
For the fourth month in a row since I stopped taking my birth control. What thefuck?
I drop my head into my hands as I blink away tears. Yeah, Domhn says he'll marry me, but I only mentioned it because I was so sure I'd be pregnant by then.
I was late this month. I thought that meant—I thought?—
Maybe it's just some spotting?
But when I wipe, the toilet paper comes back with enough blood to make it clear.
No, this is a regular period.
Tears flood down my cheeks. I wipe them furiously away, blinking hard as my mind spins.
Dammit, have they even beenfucking?
I still wake up sore sometimes, but then again, I found a hugely stupid goddamned vibrator in the nightstand the other day. What the hell does she need a vibrator for when she's got the real thing there in bed beside her?
For fuck's sake, this was the wholefuckingdeal!She gets to fuck him, and I get a baby!
No, it's not a deal I made out loud with anybody, but it's the deal I made with myself so everything would be okay and now?—
And now?—
I grab my fancy clutch purse furiously off the ground to see if I even packed a tampon?—
And pull out a pack of cigarettes instead.
I'm going to fucking kill her. My hands crumple the pack.
I told her.
Ifuckingtold hernot to smoke.
Smoking makes an inhospitable atmosphere for a fetus. This goddamned bitch. Not fucking our fiancé and nowthis?!
I keep scrounging in the purse, only managing to find the lighter and then—praise god—one solitary tampon.
I shove the tampon in, then glare violently at the pack of cigarettes, feeling so full of fury at everything, at everyone, at the whole fucking world and my traitorous body that I yank one out and light it.
My body is familiar with how to suck the air into mylungs, hold it there while the nicotine soothes the edges of my burning frustration, and then I exhale the disgusting fumes.
"Hey!" Someone pounds on the side of my stall. "You can't smoke in here."
