Chapter 14 #2
She sighs. “Maybe it was my mistake. Perhaps he didn’t intend to propose to you right now. That ring must’ve been intended for the future, and I apologize for that. I shouldn’t have said anything. But do not doubt my son’s feelings for you. He adores you.”
“But—But he can’t.” My eyes are wet with tears.
Love me?
Who could love me?
People like me aren’t meant to be loved.
I must have mumbled the last part out loud because her brows knit together. “What does that mean? You are a very lovable woman, Natalie. You make my son happy. You draw him out of his shell and make him look at the world around him.”
I can’t stop the tears, no matter how hard I try, as if a dam has broken inside me. “You don’t understand. You don’t.”
“Then tell me,” she says calmly. “Tell me why he can’t love you and why you’re so convinced you’re unlovable.”
I wipe my eyes fiercely, not wanting to make a fool of myself. “I don’t mean to say—I’m not saying I’m unlovable. I just—Ethan knows. Given our past, he knows?—”
“I understood that he did something to you when you first met him, something he considers unforgivable.”
My lips part. “He told you?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “And I don’t want to know.
This is between the two of you, but before you turn him down, Natalie, at least discuss what happened.
It could be that you are viewing the events of what he did to you in a different light.
It is entirely possible there’s something you don’t know, something that could be resolved with communication. ”
She reaches out and covers my cold hands with hers, her voice warm.
“I will tell you one thing. I understand that my son is a difficult man. But when he loves, he loves true and deep. When he talks about you, I see a side of him I’ve never seen before.
Please, talk to him before you make any decision. ”
Her hand lifts to cup my cheek gently, and I notice her fingers hesitate for just a moment over the healing scratches, her eyes flashing with a mixture of concern and something that looks like protective anger before her expression softens again.
My heart trembles when she murmurs, “And I think you are a lovely girl. I would love to have you as my daughter-in-law—no, my daughter.”
“I—”
“Do you care for my son?”
Helen’s question is serious, and I find myself answering truthfully, even though I know I shouldn’t. “Yes.”
She doesn’t say anything else on the matter. “Come on. Let us go out for lunch. I feel you have lost too much weight, and I want to spend time with my soon-to-be daughter-in-law.”
“But I haven’t?—”
She just pulls me along firmly, and I follow her helplessly.
So this is what Ethan meant by calling her a force of nature.
I’ve barely processed anything she’s told me, and here I am being carted around without even being allowed to have a say.
She makes Ethan’s stubborn streak look like child’s play.
A ring.
He had a ring made.
My head is a tangled mess of thoughts and emotions, and I don’t even know where to begin untangling them.
But three years ago?
“Are you going somewhere, Natalie?”
Caroline’s voice snaps me out of my daze, and I look over my shoulder to see her coming out of the cafe, carrying a tray with a coffee and a sandwich.
“Oh, sorry! Mrs. Brown, this is Helen Wilder. She’s my—” I glance at the woman next to me awkwardly. “She’s my boss’s mother.”
“Oh.” Caroline looks between the two of them, her eyebrows rising slightly .
“Mrs. Wilder, this is Caroline Brown. She owns this cafe, and she’s my flatmate Sarah’s mother. I’ve been staying with her and her husband for the past two weeks.”
“Natalie’s been helping out at the cafe while she looks for a new job. She’s such a delight to have around.” Caroline smiles. “Would you like some coffee, Helen?”
“I’d love some.”
I sense an odd tension between the two women, like two lionesses circling each other, but it could be in my head.
“Brody!” Mrs. Brown calls out. “Bring another coffee out here.”
A few minutes later, a man walks out, his dark hair tied in a tight bun at the top of his head. Brody is Sarah’s older brother, and he is set to take over the cafe at some point.
“This is my oldest, Brody,” Caroline beams. “He and Natalie are quite close.”
I blink. I don’t think I’m that close to Brody. We hang out these days, but he’s mostly playing video games or on his phone. Close is a bit of an overstatement, unless staring at the back of someone’s head while they demolish zombies counts as bonding.
“I think you two are the same age, right?” She looks between the two of us, and Brody shrugs. “Close enough,” his mother laughs as he pours a cup of coffee for Helen. “The two get along so well, and we’ve always been fond of Natalie.”
Brody gives me a questioning look, and I can only shrug. I’m just as clueless as him. But the tension between the two women is more than palpable now, like static electricity in the air before a storm.
“My husband and I feel the same way.” Mrs. Wilder beams, sipping her coffee, her eyes pinned on the other woman. “I’m glad Ethan snatched her up when he did. She’s such a treasure.”
Are they—Are they arguing over me? Can this even be called arguing? I have no idea what’s going on .
Brody just rolls his eyes and heads back inside. That seems to be the best solution overall. My stomach rumbles, and I pick up the sandwich. But as I’m about to take a bite, the smell of the eggs hit me.
A strange revulsion crawls over me, and I feel sick, setting the sandwich back down on the plate as if it’s suddenly transformed into something vile.
But I can still smell the eggs. I didn’t even know what eggs smelled like till today. Nausea rises within me, and I’m overcome by the desire to empty my stomach’s contents. The two women are still talking when I stumble to my feet.
I’m going to throw up.
Oh crap.
“Natalie?”
I don’t know which one of them speaks because I’m already running inside, one hand covering my mouth. I see Brody’s concerned face as I leap into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and sinking to the ground, clutching the toilet bowl. As soon as I do, I begin retching.
My breakfast comes out and tears cling to my eyes as my body trembles from the force of the vomiting.
A moment later, there’s a knock on the door, and Helen’s concerned voice asks, “Natalie, dear, are you alright?”
I try to say something, but another wave of nausea rears its head, forcing me to throw up once again.
My breathing hard, I hear someone insert a key in the lock, and then the door opens. Both Caroline and Helen are standing there, and when they see me on the ground, they hurry forward. “What happened? Are you sick?”
The washroom is small and with three women, far too crowded, like sardines in a tin can.
“I’m fine,” I say weakly. “Let me clean up, please.”
From the looks of them, they have no plans of leaving me alone. I try to get to my feet, but my legs are trembling too much. They help me stand up and support me while I rinse my mouth and wash my face.
“Was it something you ate?” Mrs. Wilder asks once we exit the cramped space, worried.
“Had to be. I’ve been having these mild cramps lately, and when I smelled those eggs in the sandwich, I couldn’t control myself. Sorry, Mrs. Brown. You know how much I love your sandwiches. It was the egg. Maybe it didn’t agree with me.”
When they don’t say anything, I look up at them, and both of them are staring at me. Then Mrs. Brown looks at Helen. “That sounds a lot like?—”
The two women have a silent conversation with their eyes, and then Mrs. Brown is hurrying out of the store. “I’ll be right back. Give her some water, Brody.”
“Where is she going?” I ask. “I have some medicine for food poisoning in my bag.”
As Brody brings me the water, Mrs. Wilder smiles, a glint in her eyes. “I don’t think what you have is food poisoning.”
“It has to be.” I take small sips of the water. “I told you I was having cramps before?—”
“Have you missed your period, Natalie?”
Her blunt question has me blinking. “Of course not?—”
I pause.
“Wait, I’ll have to check my diary. I think—I was supposed to have it last week. But sometimes this happens when I’m stressed. They come a week late sometimes. It’s no big deal.”
As the words are coming out of my mouth, a strange panic is beginning to settle in at the knowing look in her eyes. “Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not it. It’s not.”
I’m not an idiot. I know what she’s trying to imply.
No way. It’s just been three weeks. There is no way that?—
“Did you and Ethan use protection?”
“Mrs. Wilder!” My face feels hot enough to fry an egg—Oh God, there’s that nausea again. “I-I hardly think that’s something you should be?—”
“We are all women here, Natalie,” she laughs before lifting her head when the door opens. “And it seems we’ll be able to find out soon enough.”
Mrs. Brown has returned with a small paper bag, and when she empties the bag on the table, I see multiple pregnancy tests.
My blood runs cold, like ice water has replaced everything in my veins.
“You’re both wrong. It’s just been three weeks. Nothing happens in three weeks.”
The two women exchange a look, and Mrs. Brown stuffs the tests into my hands. “Go. We want to see each one.”
I stare at them before heading into the washroom.
They’re wrong.
They have to be.
Positive.
They are all positive, except for one.
“This can’t be possible,” I breathe, my hands shaking. “I-I can’t be pregnant. How can I be pregnant?”
I’m sitting outside now with Ethan’s mother. Caroline had some customers to deal with, so she went away after giving me a happy congratulations. She also gave a disappointed look towards Brody.
“You and Ethan are old enough to know better,” Helen says lightly, but she doesn’t look upset. “I know having a child is terrifying, but?—”
I look at her, tears swimming in my eyes. “You don’t understand, Mrs. Wilder. I don’t have a job. Nobody will hire me if I’m pregnant. I?—”