The night after I signed the contract, I spent the whole evening crying until I had no tears left to cry. The following morning, my eyes felt like they had grit inside of them. I was robbed of sleep and I finally gave up at five a.m. I lay in bed and let the last couple of weeks play on repeat in my head. How had I got here?
Sighing, I threw my hands into the duvet before throwing the covers back and washing the restless night off me. When I was up, I sat with a glass of water because everything I wanted turned my stomach making my nausea roll through my stomach, I told myself that I needed to make my new life better. I was pregnant, it wasn’t ideal. The plan was to stay with Preston and when I had the baby we were going to part ways. But now, I felt alone. I could easily be a bitch and take this away from Preston but I just couldn’t do it. It was his baby too, I didn’t want our child to grow up without his father. After my little pep talk, I plugged my phone in and put my playlist on. This is what I needed. I needed to swallow down the nausea and the heartache that was consuming me and lost myself for a couple of hours.
I didn’t get much cleaning done, I spent the majority of the morning with my head down the toilet. I sat back on the sofa, completely exhausted. I was agitated. I wasn’t allowed to work, Preston continued to pay me, but it felt wrong. Of course, he was only doing it because he didn’t want me seeing any of my clients. Selfish bastard.
Drumming my fingers on the arm of my sofa, I sighed heavily. It had been four weeks since I found out I was pregnant, the nausea had unfortunately kicked in, but it wasn’t just morning sickness it was all day sickness. The thought of food hitting my stomach made me dry heave at just the thought. I was living off bottles of coke, cups of tea and dry crackers because that was the only thing that didn’t make me throw up. The buzzer rang through the flat, I tipped my head back and groaned. I didn’t want to get up. I was too tired. It buzzed again. Pushing off the sofa, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My dirty blonde hair was dragged into a greasy bun on my head. My once glowing skin was washed out and dry. My eye bags were dug deep into my skin, dark and hollow. Sleep just didn’t come, and when it did it was plagued with Preston’s vicious words. He wasn’t wrong, I was a high-class hooker. But I didn’t expect it from him. He was the only one who made me respect myself and feel better about myself but he ripped me down, my walls guarding me once more and now I saw him just like the others. A client.
A business transaction.
He wasn’t my friend anymore.
Pressing the button for the door release, I heard Harriet mumble.
“About time, I’m freezing my butt off out here.”
I smirked. Opening the flat door and leaving it open, I turned on my heel and flicked the kettle on.
“What was you doing?” she groaned as she dropped her bags and wedding folders on the floor.
“Having a poo,” I laughed, shaking my head.
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” her voice was soft as she wrapped her arms around me for a cuddle.
“Nah, I was just sitting on the sofa. This child just wants to make me sick all the God, damn time.” I rubbed my flat stomach before I lifted the kettle and filled two cups before adding the milk.
“How are you feeling now, you know… about everything?” she said cautiously, tiptoeing round the conversation as we both walked towards the sofa.
“Fine, I’m fine.” I nodded, taking a mouthful of my tea.
Harriet’s brows furrowed as her eyes narrowed on me while she took her own sip of her tea.
“I don’t believe you,” she chimed.
“Then don’t believe me, but I am telling you I am fine.”
She nodded before rolling her eyes.
“Anyway, enough about little old me, what do we need to do for the wedding?”
“Glad you asked,” she smiled, placing her tea down on the messy coffee table. Her brows sat high in her forehead for a moment before she looked round the flat.
“I know, it’s a mess… I haven’t had the energy.”
“Want me to help?” she asked.
“No! I’ll do it tomorrow, I have no other plans except from sit here and fester, so now, go and get your folders. I want to see what is left to do!”
She gave me a warm smile, then turned to get her bags and her folders. She plopped herself back down next to me, opening the folder and running through the list.
“Okay, so we need to look at maybe getting you a different dress, because you’re going to have quite a bump in six months.”
“But I like the dress,” I pouted, crossing my arms across my chest.
“I like the dress too, but we need to be sensible. So have a look through these magazines and see what you like.” She smiled.
An hour had passed and the dress was picked. Instead of a fitted sweetheart neck fishtail style, I had chosen a cuffed shoulder dress with a flowing skirt in a sage green.
“Okay, so maid of honour duty, can you make sure everyone has RSVP’d to the hen do? I don’t want to be a lonely bride with just you there…” she winced, “no offence.”
“None taken,” I smiled. Harriet had organised it all by herself. We were having cocktails in a classy bar in London, then for dinner before going to see a male strip show which I for one was really looking forward too. Magic Mike eat your heart out.
“But yes, I will sort it.” I smiled before standing and re-filling the kettle with water.
“I can’t stay hun, I’ve got to go and sort suits for the groom’s party.”
I sighed. I saw the sadness in her eyes and the guilt that consumed her in that moment. “I’ll see if I can meet them there…” she trailed off fishing for her phone in her bag.
“It’s fine, honestly. Go and do wedding stuff. I’ll call you later.” I smiled weakly as she gave me a ‘are you sure?’ look. I nodded, answering her silent question. She nodded back, turning and seeing herself out. Once she was gone, I cried.
I woke from my sleep to my phone buzzing, turning over I grabbed my phone and saw Preston’s name.
I answered.
“What?” I groaned. I was groggy and miserable.
“Hey my little peach, how are you feeling?”
“Tired. What do you want Preston?”
“I want to see you.”
“Well, I don’t want to see you.” Huffing, I rolled over in my bed, tugging the duvet over my head.
“Too bad, I am outside.”
“Fuck sake,” I muttered under my breath as I cut the phone off. Pulling myself out of bed, I padded heavy footed over to the door, swinging it open to see a pleased Preston holding bags of shopping.
I didn’t say two words to him, just turned on my heel and walked into the flat. I heard the bags hit the countertop as I slumped on the sofa, pulling the throw over me.
“Are you going to talk to me?” He asked, both hands fisted deep into his pockets as he stepped cautiously over to me. I had to fight the urge to look at his stupid, handsome face because I would forget what happened and welcome him with open arms.
“Are you sorry for calling me a whore?” I spat the disgusting words out, shaking my head as I felt my anger begin to rise.
He said nothing, just dropped his head in shame.
“Didn’t think so,” I turned to look at him quickly. His shoulders slumped, the toe of his expensive shoes kicking into the hardwood floor.
“Just go, Preston. I am over this.” I sounded exasperated. It was because I was. I was over it. The little slither of hope that I had for me and Preston when I said I would carry his child, our child had wilted away to nothing. We could have been a family; we could have made it work but now he disgusted me. If I wasn’t pregnant already, I would have told him to shove his contract and his money up his arse.
“We don’t need to be friends; you don’t need to turn up at my house like the doting father and boyfriend. You just need to be there for the appointments, that’s all I ask and need of you. So go back to your life, your apartment and whatever you used to get up to before you came and derailed my life.” I sighed, my throat tight as the burning lump wedged itself there. I swallowed hard, but it didn’t ease the pain or the feeling. The tears stung behind my eyes as they pricked but I wouldn’t let them fall, not in front of Preston anyway.
“Just go,” my voice trembled, I begged him. I didn’t want him here. Because every time I looked at him or felt the buzz he gives me when he is near is too much to bear. All I hear when he opens his mouth are his lashings of vicious words.
I didn’t dare look up, I just listened and waited for him to leave.
And he did.
The flat door closed and as soon as I knew I was alone, hot tears rolled down my cheeks.
