Chapter 36
Thirty-Six
Itossed and turned all night, thinking about Marc and the kiss and his determination to put a stop to this thing between us before it even had a chance to start.
I didn’t want to believe he meant it, didn’t want to add yet more disappointment to my life, but I’d seen the expression in his eyes. He was serious.
I prayed he had as little will power as I did. Which at this point was basically none.
Having gotten little rest, I was like a zombie the next morning at breakfast, and Bette was uncharacteristically quiet. I didn’t know if she was giving me space since I’d been inseminated the day before or if she was just worn out. She looked pretty fucking exhausted and uncomfortable.
While I picked at my runny eggs, I scanned the faces of the soldiers stationed around the room, looking for Marc.
He rarely worked in the dining room, so it was no big surprise that he wasn’t present, but that didn’t stop me from seeking him out the rest of the day.
It wasn’t until early evening that I finally spotted him with a group of other soldiers, though.
They were in the bar, sitting at a table with drinks in front of them, talking and laughing.
I almost missed him as I walked by the open door since his back was to me, but he turned just as I passed, and I caught a side view of his face.
I froze, my heart hammering, and watched him from the doorway since I couldn’t go in.
Technically, the bar wasn’t off limits to those of us in the program, but since we couldn’t drink and we weren’t supposed to fraternize with the soldiers, there was no reason for any of us to go in.
Meaning there were no other women except two off duty minders.
I would have stood out like a sore thumb and then would have had to come up with a reason for being there that had nothing to do with the smiling soldier on the other side of the room.
I stared at the back of his head, willing him to look my way.
Silently begging him to change his mind.
It took a few minutes, but as if sensing me standing there, he finally glanced over his shoulder.
Our eyes met and the air between us crackled, and I sucked in a breath, holding it.
Waiting. Hoping. Marc gave an almost indistinguishable shake of his head before turning back around, and I deflated.
It was over. He’d made up his mind and was going to do everything in his power to avoid me.
I waited until I was safely in my room to cry.
Sergeant Collins called a special meeting Monday morning after breakfast, and just like Marc had said, we were told the landline was down.
Women grumbled, complained, but unmoved, Collins simply told us to be patient.
More than a week we’d been here, and, in that time, our cell phones had been useless, WIFI was nonexistent, we had zero access to news about the outside, and we’d only been allowed to call our loved ones once.
We were being cut off, and there was nothing any of us could do about it.
Days went by, and I spotted Marc on occasion, but he was always on the other side of the room or down the hall.
He knew where I hung out and where I liked to sit during mealtimes, and he must have requested different assignments or swapped with other people, because he was never around.
It hurt and made the days seem longer than they had before.
Especially since I had now accepted that I wouldn’t get to talk to Trevor, Bette was so uncomfortable she basically just sat in the movie room, and Malika was so angry she would barely talk to anyone.
In the days following Marc’s rejection, I began to imagine my time at the Stanley dragging out in monotony. One day after another, week after week, month after month, year after year. Nothing changing. Nothing to look forward to. No friends. No hope. No future. It sounded like torture.
Before I knew it, two weeks had gone by since my insemination and the kiss I’d shared with Marc.
The time had both dragged and gone by in what seemed like a blink, but I wouldn’t have even thought about the date or realized that my period was late had it not been for the ding of my wristband at eight o’clock in the morning or the flashing words on the screen that told me I should report to the clinic.
Shit.
Ready to get it over with, I dressed on autopilot, brushed my teeth, and raked my fingers through my long, brown hair so I could pull it into a messy ponytail, and headed out.
Hilary, of course, was waiting outside the clinic.
“Feeling okay?” she asked when she saw me.
At least she had the common sense not to act like this was a happy day this time around.
I gave a shrug I hoped was as neutral as her tone had been. “No different than usual.”
My minder frowned and looked me over. “You don’t look great.”
“Gee, thanks,” I muttered.
“I meant you look tired,” she snapped. “I’ve noticed your sleeping patterns have been erratic. Is it stress or something else?”
“Seriously?” I snorted out an ironic laugh. “It’s crazy that you even have to ask. Yes, it’s stress! I’m here against my will, in a program I didn’t sign up for, waiting to see if I’m pregnant with a baby I don’t want. If that’s not going to cause stress, I don’t know what is.”
Hilary pressed her lips into a thin line.
I waved to the door before she could lecture me about being grateful. “Let’s get this over with.”
She moved without comment, opening the door, and motioning for me to go ahead.
I did but froze one step inside, my heart hammering, and my mouth suddenly dry. Marc was sitting at the desk.
This was the closest I’d been to him in two weeks, and I didn’t know how to act or what to say.
Or even if I should say anything. As far as Hilary knew, he and I were strangers, so it would have been weird to address or even acknowledge him.
But saying nothing felt even more wrong.
Especially because I had so much to say.
There was no surprise in Marc’s eyes, which told me he’d either seen my name on the list of women who’d be coming in today or he’d expected it.
Maybe he’d remembered that two weeks had passed since my insemination.
Maybe that was why he was here today. To see me.
To find out how I was and if I was pregnant or something else. I hoped so.
“Arabella Murphy for a test,” Hilary said, oblivious to the tension crackling through the air.
Tearing his gaze from mine, Marc typed something into the tablet in front of him, and without looking up, said, “They have you set up in room five.”
“Thank you,” my minder replied, then waved for me to start walking.
I hesitated, waiting to see if Marc would look at me again, but he kept his focus on the tablet. My heart twisted painfully, and tears sprang to my eyes, but I blinked them back, not sure how I would explain them to Hilary. And because I didn’t want Marc to know how much his rejection hurt.
“I know you’re not looking forward to this,” Hilary said when I didn’t move, “but there’s no avoiding it, so we might as well get it over with.”
“I know,” I whispered.
As if the sound of my voice had affected him, Marc jerked, but he still didn’t look up.
I forced myself to move.
Once through the curtain, Hilary led the way.
We didn’t have far to go, and all the cubicles were numbered, so it wasn’t necessary for her to direct me, but I was glad I didn’t have to use my brain since it was too crowded with thoughts of Marc.
At least he was still distracting me. That was something.
When we reached the correct cubicle, Hilary pulled the curtain aside and motioned for me to enter.
I hadn’t wondered how the test would be administered until I stepped through, but I should have.
Last time, it had been a urine test, and apparently it would be again because a toilet chair like what you’d see in a nursing home was set up on the other side of the small space.
I spun on Hilary. “You have to be kidding. There are bathrooms just outside the ballroom!”
She didn’t react to my outrage. “We want a more controlled environment for these tests.”
I ground my teeth. “Are you going to watch me pee, too?”
“Don’t be a baby, Miss Murphy,” Hilary said. “I’ll step out while you empty your bladder in the basin. Once you’ve finished, I will dip the test in the urine, and we’ll know the results. It’s not that big a deal, really.”
I scowled, but Hilary didn’t acknowledge the dirty look before turning her back on me. “You can throw your toilet paper in the trashcan provided. Let me know when you’re done.”
I continued to glare even after she’d disappeared through the curtain.
I felt like things had been set up to ensure the situation was as humiliating as possible. But like everything else, I had no control, so after only a few seconds of trying to figure out how I was going to get out of it, I resigned myself to my fate and did what was expected of me.
Once I’d used the hand sanitizer sitting on the wheeled cart, I called out, “I’m done.”
Hilary slipped back through the curtain.
She didn’t even look at me as she put on a pair of gloves, tore into the test lying on the cart, and dipped the tip in my urine.
She held it there for longer than necessary before replacing the lid and setting it on top of the wheeled cart.
I cringed when she didn’t even bother putting toilet paper under it but supposed it didn’t matter.
Someone would have to empty the basin when I was gone, and they would probably clean the cart as well.
“Just a couple minutes,” Hilary said as she removed her gloves and tossed them into the trash.
She didn’t look my way while we waited, which I was thankful for.
Seconds ticked by while Hilary stared at the test. Her mouth scrunched up before too long, and I knew the results were forthcoming.
I expected a positive test since my periods were never late, which was why I was so surprised when she picked the test up, tossed it in the trash, and declared, “Negative.”
“Negative?” I repeated, shocked and elated at the same time.
The disapproving look Hilary gave me made it seem like she held me personally responsible. “You heard me.”
“I’m just surprised,” I said, trying to hide my excitement.
I would have three months to kill before they tried again, which meant I had a temporary reprieve. It was like being pardoned by the governor moments before an execution.
“Yes, well,” my minder began as she typed a few things into the tablet she never went anywhere without, “I suppose it’s time I let you know that things have changed.”
“Changed?” I repeated, wondering what bomb she was going to drop on me next.
When Hilary looked up, I swore there was a gleam of satisfaction in her brown eyes. “You will resume temperature checks immediately and as soon as your body is once again fertile, we’ll try again. Next month.”
She over pronounced the last two words like she wanted to make sure I got what she was saying but there was no need. I understood completely and I also knew it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t what I’d been told and despite my determination to follow orders, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Not about this.
“But I have three months. It’s in the contract.”
Hilary rolled her eyes like I was a troublesome child and not a woman whose rights were being ripped away.
“Yes, well, given the state of the world and increased risk to the human race, the three-month break between inseminations has been suspended. You know as well as I do that the Department of Fertility has the right to make changes to the program at any time if they feel it’s in the best interest of the human race.
And you have to understand how dire the circumstances are. ”
I didn’t since I was cut off from the world, but even if I had, it wouldn’t have justified this.
Even worse was that this most recent change brought back all my worries about how far the Department of Fertility would go.
They could keep me here as long as they liked, could decide I needed to have another baby, could extend my time in the program, could even decide I was property of the government for as long as I was fertile.
The future suddenly looked even more bleak than ever, which made it impossible to hold in my anger.
“This is wrong. You have to know this is wrong,” I said, blinking back the tears that had sprung to my eyes. “This is my body. Mine.”
“Miss Murphy, I’m really getting tired of your ridiculous outbursts.
You have a duty to the human race, and you will fulfill it one way or another.
What you need to do is decide what your time in the program is going to look like.
Either you can stay here and be pampered” – She paused when I snorted – “or you can go to one of the government hospitals to serve out your time. I know what I would do if I were in your shoes, but only you can make that decision.”
I wanted to hit her, wanted to scream, wanted to grab a gun from one of the soldiers and shoot my way out of this hellhole.
But I knew where all those things would get me, which was why I chose to swallow my anger, wipe the tears from my cheeks, and straighten my shoulders.
I would get through this. Even if I wasn’t free from the program until I was in my forties, I would not let these people win.
Seeing the resolve on my face, Hilary gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Now that we’ve decided you’re going to be a team player, you can return to your normal schedule. I’ll keep an eye on things via your wristband. That is all.”
She resumed typing on her tablet, which I took as my cue to leave.
I was practically running as I hurried out, both because I wanted to get away from her and because, despite my resolve, I was still on the verge of tears. I would put on the bravest face I could in front of Hilary, but in private, I would be myself.
The appointment had distracted me so much that I’d totally forgotten about Marc until I reached the front desk and he turned to face me.
His eyes were full of questions, and seeing him now was too much for me, and my tears began to spill over.
Marc half stood, reaching out, but I shook my head and violently swiped my hand across my cheek.
Not wanting to deal with him on top of everything else, I hurried from the clinic and headed for my room. Breakfast was on, and I had my work shift after that, but I didn’t care. I needed to be alone. I’d deal with the consequences later.