Page 149 of Tied to You

“She was sick,” I say, my tone all but dead.

“True, but what about the constant peeing?”

That… that hasn’t gone unnoticed, but she could just be out of sorts due to her dad. Can being out of sorts change how many times you pee?

“And there was today.”

“What was today?” I snap.

“Before we came out. She made a cup of tea, but couldn’t drink it.”

My eyes screw tight. “How the fuck does that mean she’s pregnant?”

“Watch it,” Mick warns me.

I place my pint back on the table, running my hand down my face. I don’t understand any of this, but I don’t like where this conversation is heading. Women have a weird sixth sense about this sort of shit, and one thing’s for sure, Janette wouldn’t have said anything if it didn’t hold any weight.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Janette sighs.

I shut my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I just don’t get how not drinking tea means she’s pregnant?”

“Her taste is off,” she says simply.

Her taste? Shit. She added so much salt to her meal, even I wondered what the fuck she was doing.

“You have been safe, haven’t you?”

“Good Lord, woman.” Mick downs the rest of his pint. “He’s twenty-five, not fifteen.”

“No, but, antibiotics mess with the pill. Everyone knows that.”

Do they?Because I fucking didn’t. We’ve been fucking nonstop for weeks. It never occurred to me that it could mess with her pill. Did she know? Jesus, my fucking sanity begins spiralling out of control.

Looking up, I see Mollie walking back to us. I quickly remove my wallet and slap some notes on the table, panic rising like a tidal wave about to crash against the shore. “Make sure you get Mollie home,” I say to Mick and Janette without looking at them, standing and getting out of the restaurant before she gets back to the table.

I don’t turn around as I swing open the door. My fucking heart is about to stop given the intense rate at which it’s trying to leave my chest. With every step I take, I wonder what the fuck I’m doing. Janette could have this all wrong. Mollie could just be sick. But, could she already know? Is she too scared to tell me, given how she assumed I’d react? Like, how Iamfucking reacting right now.

What have I done? I’ve made her fearful to tell me the truth. Made her doubt herself and what we have. I’m a bastard. A complete and utter, cunt.

Unless she knew? Everyone knows antibiotics mess with the pill.

Did Mollie know? She can’t have. She wouldn’t.

Would she?

I can’t use it as an excuse, but my thoughts aren’t my own. My actions are purely being fuelled by stress and panic.

It’s dark out now, the air, cold. Even with the change of temperature, the image of my parents floods my vision. I can’t shake it. Can’t unsee them leaving again. Can’t unsee their backs being turned. Pressing my hand to my head, I will the unwanted thoughts to go the fuck away as I stomp my way to my bike. Jesus fucking Christ. What is the matter with me? Anyone would think I’d just been told someone was dying.

The usual Saturday night crowds start to emerge on the streets, but I don’t look at anyone passing by. I swing my leg over the saddle and grab my helmet, watching the woman I love inside, make her way back to the table where my aunt and uncle are still sitting.

She looks alarmed when Janette obviously tells her I left, and her head swings around the restaurant, checking.

I start the engine and turn on the lights, looking back up as I twist the throttle a few times.

She swings back to look through the glass, her eyes squinting as she searches for me.

I don’t know if she can see my face, but I can see hers. Watching it turn grey tears me apart, but I need to get the fuck out of here. Right fuckingnow. And I know by the way hers drops, the sombre way in which she suddenly looks so defeated and confused, that I should go back inside.