Chapter 38
Ari
The nausea rolls through me in waves, relentless and sickening.
I’m dizzy, too. I feel fucking horrible.
And I know exactly who to blame.
Vincent is crouched next to the fire pit, turning over the fish with a stick. The smell makes my stomach turn.
I hate him.
“So, that fruit you gave me was poisonous!” I announce.
And he has the nerve to chuckle at that. “The fruit was fine, bae.”
“Then why do I feel sick?”
“I ate the same thing you did and I’m fine.”
Yeah. When we returned to the fruit spot yesterday, the yellow one was the only one that got eaten. But I still wasn’t completely sold. Vincent ate a big chunk of the one he kept here and we waited all day. He was fine.
So my dumb ass ate some with dinner. I can’t even lie, it was delicious. Sweet and juicy. One of the best things I’ve ever tasted.
And now, I’ve been poisoned.
I guess I had a good run here, all things considered.
“Ari—“
“You said it was fine, Vincent. Now I’m sick!”
He watches me quietly for a minute as I struggle to sit up. I close my eyes, waiting for the world to stop spinning. My stomach never stops, though, and a few seconds later, I’m on my hands and knees retching and throwing up.
“I got it,” he says as he approaches with a hand full of dirt. “Lay back down.”
“Shut up,” I spit. “I wouldn’t be in this predicament if it wasn’t for you.”
He chuckles again. “You right about that one.”
He covers my sickness with the dirt, then scoops it all up and disposes of it in the trees.
He squeezes some body wash into his hands and I assume he goes to wash them. When he comes back, he brings me a bottle of water.
“Drink.”
“Leave me alone,” I mutter. “I’m over you right now.”
“Baby—“
“Shut up, Vincent. No, you know what? You’re Villain today. Now go away from me with this before I throw up on you.”
I don’t know where he goes, but when I close my eyes, his footsteps get further and further away until I don’t hear them. And I actually don’t care. I’m too busy swallowing to care, trying to keep the vomit from rising yet again.
I should have never listened to his ass.
“Babe…”
Is this nigga bothering me again?
I lift my head.
“I brought you some crackers. It might help.”
“Are you serious?” I snap. “What are these dry ass crackers supposed to do? Soak up the poison?”
“You bein’ mad dramatic. Eat the damn crackers.”
“Go eat some more fruit,” I say. “If I die, you gotta die too.”
“You’re not dying, Ari. Jesus. You’re pregnant.”
I blink at him, confused and stunned and annoyed at the same damn time. For a quick second, I think he’s making a joke, some kind of twisted humor to lighten the mood.
Then I see his face. Blank and unflinching.
A laugh bursts out of me. “First of all, that’s impossible. And second, how the fuck would you know before I do?”
“I’ve seen it before,” he says quietly. “Your body is changing.”
I hits me then that I haven’t actually seen my body since we’ve been here.
I stare down at myself as if that will help.
“Your titties are fuller. And sore. And the veins in your chest are real dark blue and noticeable. The nausea and the dizziness, that’s a sign, too.”
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
His eyes meet mine. “Ari. I got a son. I’ve seen all this with Shemari.”
“Stop.” My hand flies to my mouth, pressing hard. “This is not…I’m not…”
“I didn’t know how you’d take it,” he says softly. “But now you know. And maybe it’s better that you do.”
I step back, shaking my head. “No. No, no, no. I can’t be pregnant out here. There’s no way.”
“Ari.”
I turn and walk away, heading straight for the water. I don’t know what I’ll do there, but it’s better than listening to him.
I can’t be pregnant. It makes no sense, and it’s the absolute worse case scenario here. A baby? On an island? With no doctor?
I stare down at the white foam as it laps at my ankles. Salty tears meet the salty sea. Waves build and crash, furious and relentless and noisy.
But it’s not enough to distract me from the dire situation I’m in.
Pregnant black women die every day in America, and that’s with a so-called first world healthcare system. Out here? Alone? I can’t do it. It’s impossible.
Maybe I’ll just…walk out into the sea. Let it carry me away. I’ll be a mermaid. For about three minutes, anyway. Then I’ll sink. Me and my alleged baby.
But in the end, I can’t do it. I just stand there, trembling, staring out at the horizon.
Pregnant.
The word feels foreign in my head.
I press a hand to my stomach, just to feel something, but I feel nothing.
Nothing but absolute terror.