15. Marley
15
MARLEY
P regnant.
All three tests state the glaringly obvious. The test that has two lines even has one line darker than the other, to the point where it’s pulling dye from the other line.
The digital one reads Pregnant, 3+ weeks. My breaths come in short stutters as I try to process. Beau’s arms are tight around me, and he’s whispering in my ear, but I can’t hear him, can’t understand what he’s saying. His arms are the only thing keeping me from collapsing.
He didn’t want this. He wanted one night with me, one night to get our feelings out in the open, and now he’s stuck. Stuck with me, stuck with a baby that he probably doesn’t want. He’s going to feel obligated to be with me now, to care for me. That’s not what I want. I wanted him to want me for me, not because he has to.
“Marley, listen to me. This is okay.” His voice is the opposite of how I feel. Strong, steady.
“How is this okay?” I shriek. I rub my face, pushing my bangs out of my eyes. I’m sure they are skewed all over my sticky skin, but I really can’t find it in me to care. “I just trapped you for at least the next eighteen years of our lives!”
“You act as if that’s a burden.” I can’t bring myself to look in the mirror, to see Beau’s face in the reflection. “If anything, I’m the one that trapped you. I got so lost in the moment, in being with you finally , that I forgot to put on a condom.”
“I forgot my pills!” My voice is at an ungodly level, my ears ringing.
“Marley,” Beau coaxes, spinning me so I face him, cupping my cheeks in his hands. “Stop it. Neither of us are at fault.”
Breathing heavily, I stare into his eyes. Inside of his gaze I see no fear, no anger, just pure adoration. The same look he gets on his face when he tells me he’s proud of me.
“We’re having a baby,” he murmurs. His eyes shine and his lip trembles.
“We’re having a baby,” I repeat, the words finally sinking in. The reality hits me, and it’s no longer the sheer panic of what might happen between Beau and me for our future, but the panic of realizing I’m carrying a baby. Beau’s baby. Tears freely fall from my eyes, down my cheeks and fall to my sweatshirt. “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry,” I admit.
“I’m right there with you. Fuck, Marley. I… wow.”
I press a palm to my sweaty forehead. “What do we do now?”
Beau leans down, kissing my lips with the gentlest of pressure, our salty tears mingling together. “Now, we talk. Really, really talk.”