20 | Say something
20 | say something
CARA
The periodic hum of something vibrating against a hard surface stirred me awake. Through the fog of sleep, I registered the distant sound of the shower running. I blinked against the bright morning light, my eyes slowly focusing on the source of the closer, more insistent noise. William’s phone was skittering perilously close to the edge of his nightstand, its persistent buzzing sending it inching sideways with each vibration.
I lunged toward it, my fingers closing around it just as it tipped over the edge. I exhaled in relief, holding it aloft for a brief moment of triumph. But when I was about to put it away, the name on the screen froze me in place.
Apprehension surged through me, a cold wave that left me breathless.
Francesca Strafford. The name that should have been buried in his past.
William had promised he was done with her, that she was nothing but a memory. But now, with her name flashing on the screen, my mind raced.
I thought back to the last week, to William’s erratic behaviour. One moment, he was distant, almost cold, barely acknowledging my presence. The next, he was overwhelmingly attentive, finding any excuse to be close to me. The wild swings in his demeanour, which I’d chalked up to stress, now seemed to take on a more sinister hue.
Why was Francesca calling him? The question echoed in my mind, each repetition feeding my growing dread. I had trusted him, believed him when he said it was over. But now, doubt consumed me, the unease I’d pushed down bubbling up uncontrollably.
The sound of the shower continued, a steady backdrop to my spiralling thoughts. I glanced toward the bathroom door, half-expecting William to step out, a towel slung around his hips and a disarming smile on his face. But he didn’t. I was alone with the vibrating phone and my mounting suspicion and fear.
I tightened my grip on the phone. I knew I had to confront William, had to get to the bottom of this. But the uncertainty was crippling. What if he lied? What if the truth was even worse than I imagined?
I stared at the screen, the name still glaring up at me. Should I answer it?
My heart pounded in my chest as I accepted the call and brought the phone to my ear. ‘Hello,’ I managed to say, my voice steady despite the turmoil within me. ‘William can’t come to the phone right now. Can I take a message?’
There was a brief pause on the other end, filled with the crackling of distant static.
‘Who is this?’ Francesca’s tone held a sharp edge of curiosity, almost suspicion, likely because she heard a woman’s voice.
I hesitated. If I gave her my name, she might recognise it, and I wasn’t sure I wanted that.
‘I’m … a friend.’
Another silence, heavier this time. ‘A friend,’ Francesca echoed, her voice saturated with scepticism. After a beat, she added with a note of superiority, ‘Well, friend, please tell William that I’ll be back in a week, so we can take the paternity test then.’
Her words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the breath from my lungs. My grip tightened on the phone as the room seemed to tilt around me.
Paternity test. It echoed in my mind, a cruel chant.
Francesca kept speaking, but her words barely registered as the full weight of what she’d said settled over me.
She was pregnant. And William might be the father.
‘Hello? Did you hear me?’ Francesca’s voice cut through the haze, sharper now.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to respond. ‘Yes, I… I’ll tell him.’
‘Good,’ she said, the word dripping with finality. The line went dead, leaving me in a silence that felt oppressive, the phone still clutched in my hand.
I stared blankly ahead, struggling to process the revelation. My mind whirled, trying to piece together the fragments of information, to make sense of the betrayal that now seemed irrefutable. William’s erratic behaviour, his defensiveness when I asked about her, it all clicked into place with sickening clarity. He hadn’t been stressed or distracted because of work; he’d been hiding this, hiding her.
Just then, the bathroom door opened, and William stepped out, a copper-toned towel slung low around his hips, that disarming smile on his face. For a moment, I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, the enormity of what I’d just learned paralysing me.
His smile faltered as he saw me sitting there, his phone in my hand, my expression undoubtedly revealing the storm of emotions within me.
‘Cara?’ he called, his voice cautious. ‘What’s wrong?’
I held his gaze, feeling a thousand things at once – anger, hurt, confusion – but mostly, a deep, aching sadness.
‘We need to talk,’ I said, my voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. I put his phone back on his nightstand, his eyes following the movement with evident dread.
‘About what?’
‘Francesca called,’ I said, each word a struggle. ‘She said she’ll be back in a week… for the paternity test.’
The colour drained from his face. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the silence between us filled with the weight of everything unspoken.
‘I was going to tell you,’ he finally said, his voice unsteady. ‘I wanted to wait until I had the result.’
My mind reeled. ‘Does this mean you’ve been seeing her behind my back?’ The words tumbled out, raw and jagged.
‘No,’ he said vehemently, taking a step closer. ‘No, Cara, I swear.’ His voice cracked, his eyes growing shinier. ‘She’s about eleven weeks pregnant now.’
Eleven weeks. My thoughts churned as I did the maths. It must have happened sometime after I rejected his advances in May.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ My chest stung terribly, making it hard to draw breath. ‘Why keep this from me?’
‘I didn’t want you to worry,’ he said, his eyes beseeching, crinkling at the corners. ‘I didn’t want you to stress over something that might not even be true. If the child isn’t mine—’
‘Do you think it’s yours?’ I cut him off, desperately hoping he would say No.
He hesitated, the silence stretching unbearably. ‘It’s possible,’ he admitted quietly, observing my reaction.
Crushing despair swept over me. Was this really happening? Tears welled up in my eyes, my face contorting. The pain in my chest – it was excruciating. It felt like I was going to explode.
‘You should have told me.’
He shook faintly, the weight of the confession crumbling his composure. ‘I’m so sorry, Cara,’ he said, his voice quivering with regret. ‘I thought I was protecting you.’
‘But you didn’t,’ I whimpered, the tears spilling over. ‘You deceived me.’ He winced at the word, his shoulders tightening. ‘You let me believe everything was fine.’
Swallowing hard, he took a tentative step toward me, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. But I moved away on the mattress, putting more distance between us. His face twisted with hurt as he halted, recognising my silent demand for space. He stood frozen, torn between reaching for me and holding himself back, the war playing out in his gaze.
‘How long have you known?’
He looked down at the floor, his voice low as he said, ‘She told me when I returned her dress.’
‘What will you do if the child is yours?’ I could barely comprehend that we were having this conversation. It felt like some cruel, twisted nightmare, not the reality I was living. The man I loved, tangled up with another woman, possibly having a child with her. My heart ached, a sob threatening at the back of my throat. Did this mean I’d lose him forever?
I watched him, waiting for his answer, hoping for something – anything – that could make this less devastating.
He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture weary with the gravity of the situation. ‘I’ll be there for the kid,’ he said. ‘But I’m not coupling up with Francesca. I won’t abandon my responsibility, but I want to be with you.’
A glimmer of relief sparked within me. He wanted to be with me. Yet, as the words settled, I found myself questioning my own feelings. Could I truly be with him if he turned out to be the father? I knew I loved him, but doubt ate away at me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to have children, let alone another woman’s. The thought was as daunting as it was overwhelming, a heavy burden that threatened to crush all hope.
‘Cara, say something. Please.’ He took another step closer, but I shifted further away on the bed, my body tense. His proximity, the desperation in his eyes, it was too much to bear.
‘Cara, please,’ he begged, his voice choked with emotion. Tears slipped down his cheeks, his shoulders trembling as he stood there, lost and despairing.
I wiped my own tears, my vision blurring as more followed. ‘I need time. I need to think.’
He nodded faintly, his face streaked with helplessness and fear as I slid off the bed and walked toward the door to the living room. I had to go home, had to figure out what this meant for us.
‘Cara.’ His heartbreaking tone made me pause.
I turned, meeting his gaze. Agony spilled from his features, his chest shaking as he stifled sobs that threatened to break free. His eyes, usually so full of light, now looked like a stormy sea. I wanted to console him, to tell him everything would be all right, but uncertainty held me back. I couldn’t bring myself to speak the words I wasn’t sure I believed.
Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes, his jaw clenching so tightly I feared he might shatter. His whole body tensed. It didn’t look like he was breathing anymore. Then, his eyes snapped open, brimming with raw emotion.
‘Cara, I love you.’ The words came out like a plea, his voice breaking on the last syllable.
My face twisted, a sob tearing from my lips.
He loved me.
My emotions surged like a tidal wave, drowning my voice in its ferocity. This beautiful man was offering me his heart, laying it bare before me with all its vulnerabilities. A day ago, I would have accepted it with elation, pledging to cherish it. But now, after this crushing revelation… I couldn’t offer mine in return.
The realisation settled in my chest like a heavy stone. I loathed the thought of causing him more pain, hated seeing the anguish etched into every line of his face. But I didn’t know what I wanted. Until I figured it out, I owed it to him to be careful, to not give him any false hope. Love was not a trivial sentiment. It was a vow, a commitment. And unless I was ready to honour it, unless I was ready to bind myself to him completely, I couldn’t declare it.
When I had been silent for too long, he sobbed, the sound so heart-wrenchingly raw that it tore at my very soul.
‘Please, Cara,’ he begged. ‘Don’t leave me.’ His pain was a tangible thing, a knife twisting in my chest.
‘Just give me some time, Will,’ I choked out. ‘I need to process all this.’
‘I can’t lose you,’ he whimpered.
I wrapped my arms around myself, grimacing through the tears that coursed down my cheeks. ‘I don’t know what I want,’ I said feebly. ‘Please understand.’
William’s face crumpled, and he turned away, his silent sobs racking his body. The sight of him, so utterly crushed, tore me apart. I couldn’t bear it; I had to leave, had to sort out my thoughts.
I turned and opened the door, pausing to look back at him one last time. He was still turned away from me, his head bent as he held his hands to his face, a portrait of heartbreak and despair.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, my voice quivering with pain and guilt and regret.
He shook his head, but he didn’t say anything.
I swallowed hard and stepped out, cutting off the sight of him, but not the faint sound of his anguish. It followed me into the living room, where I picked up my dress from the floor, slipping it on quickly. Then I grabbed my purse and headed straight to the hall, putting on my shoes.
As I walked out of the flat, my instinct to nurture and console him battled with my steps. A part of me wanted to turn back, to run to him and tell him I’d resolved to stay regardless of his paternity result. The urge to comfort him, to be his solace, was almost overwhelming. But the other part, the one that recognised the importance of my own needs, compelled me to keep going. I needed space to think, to decide what was best for me, even though leaving him behind felt like ripping my own heart in two.
The cool morning air hit me as I exited the building. I paused, my tears blurring the bright light. The image of William, broken and sobbing, haunted me.
I loved him, but I wasn’t sure it was enough .