Head Above Water Pt. 05

"No, that's not it," he said, looking concerned. "Tell me what's wrong. What was your news?"

"I, um, forgot," I lied as the tears swam in my eyes. I couldn't tell him about the pregnancy. What if he changed his mind and wanted to keep it? He'd give up the fucking fellowship to be here. He'd give up his dream.

No, I couldn't tell him.

"Liar," he said, frowning. "Tell me the truth, Celine."

"I'm... I'm going to go to college," I said. It was true. I had decided that recently. "Um, the next coming semester, I think. I already applied."

"Babe," Wes said, taking my face in his hands. He pressed a kiss to my lips. "I'm so happy for you. We'll both be studying, huh?"

"You're almost done," I reminded him.

"I'll never be done. I'll always be learning," he reminded me. "Medical journals, studies, new procedures, technology. It never ends in my field."

"Well, I'll never catch up then."

"That's not the point. It isn't about catching up to me. You're going to take your own path, and I'm gonna support you every step of the way. And you know what, Celie? You'll excel, just like I know you will, and I'll be the one struggling to keep up with you."

I smiled a watery smile. "Don't call me that."

"That's my girl," he said softly, brushing my tears away with his thumbs. His hands were warm, and I felt my stomach drop from feeling alone, like he was growing hotter by the second, burning my skin. What I really needed was that connection that we had, how our bodies lined up and fit together, how we were two puzzle pieces that interlocked without being forced.

"Wes, I need you."

"I'm right here," he whispered before his lips crushed against mine, kissing me like it'd be our last kiss, like this was all that was left of us, this last moment. We always made love like the world was ending, like there'd never be another chance to be together, but we'd never had a kiss like this—where the world fell away like burnt pieces of paper, crumbling and turning to dust as we concentrated on nothing but these lips, these hungry, aching lips.

We fell into bed together, tangled limbs and a soul-consuming kiss that burned up inside, setting us ablaze like a roaring wildfire. I tugged his shirt off his body, and he ran his hands along my stomach, making me flinch. I was acutely aware that without sex, he was already inside of me, a part of him growing and needing me in a way that the real Wes never could. I was terrified.

Wes looked hurt when I untangled myself from him and got out of bed, rising to my feet.

"Celine?"

"I-I have to go."

He reached out, catching my wrist in his hand. He tugged and I fell into his lap.

"Something's up," he said. "I want to know what it is. Now."

"It's none of your business," I lied. It was absolutely his business. As the saying goes, it takes two to tango, and we'd tangoed like a couple of teenagers. Now I was in this mess and I couldn't even tell him. It wasn't fucking fair, but I cared about Wes more than I cared about what kind of shit I'd be knee-deep in now that I was carrying his child. Women always get stuck with the short end of the stick. A guy could just fuck a girl, live that brief moment of bliss, emptying himself inside of her, and what about the woman? She'd have the confusion, the fear, the loneliness because no one—no one—but her knew what it was like to be fucked over like this.

Except other women who got fucked over, of course.

And I was one of them.

"Babe, I'm yours—you get that, right?" Wes said. "And, you know, I hoped that it meant that you were at least a little bit mine."

"Wes, of course I'm yours," I said, looking away. "I just... You can't get everything, okay? There are some things I want to still bemine. I need to own parts of myself, and I need to have my secrets. Do you understand that, even a little?"

"I get that," he said. "I get you needing to be independent, but what about when you're hurting, babe? Am I just supposed to witness your pain and do nothing?"

"I'm not in pain, Wes."

But I was.

"Yes, you are."

I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders, and here was Wes trying to share my burden, but for once, I couldn't let him; I couldn't allow him to throw his future away for a small clump of cells growing inside of my body. I had no plans to keep it anyway. I wanted it out of me. I wanted things to be as they were before.

But something told me that nothing would be the same ever again.

I forced a smile. "Wes, don't be dramatic. We're five points down in quality assurance at work. I'm fine."

"Promise?"

My smile faltered, but only for a second.

"I promise."

—

I carried the secret inside of me.

Literally. I thought of it as a little bean, a little kidney bean-sized clump of cells that had never been invited to the party. I didn't want it there, didn't want it inside of me, like a little parasite. I wanted it out of me.

When I called to make the appointment, they told me to find someone to support me, preferably the father. I would need someone to drive me home and take care of me after the procedure.

I couldn't tell Wes, so I told the one person in the world that I knew I could trust no matter what.

I told Addie.

I'd told her over glasses of fresh strawberry lemonade in her apartment on a Sunday, just a day before the procedure was planned to take place. She had one of those glam apartments, all white furniture, and fuzzy throw pillows and gold accents with marble counters. It was a beautiful little disastrous apartment.

"You're joking," she whispered, and I'd never seen her look so serious before. She was shocked.

"I'm really not."

"You? Pregnant?" She sounded dumbfounded. "That's—that's not possible, is it?"

"Birth control isn't hundred percent effective," I said. "It could have been anything, honestly. Maybe the antibiotics I took, fuck, I don't know. All I know is that it crapped on me and now I'm pregnant."

"I mean, there could be worse things than a baby Wes," Addie said gently.

"I'm not—no," I said stiffly. "I can't keep it."

Addie was silent for a moment before she spoke. "Have you talked to him?"

"No," I said. "And I won't be. This is my decision, not his."

"Wes would support you," Addie said.

"It's... complicated."

"Fair enough," Addie said, looking torn. I understood that Wes was her friend too, but I needed her more right now.

"I need an emergency contact and someone to drive me home," I said, getting to the point of my visit. "I'd ask Rita, but she's busy planning a wedding. She's stressed enough as it is."

"Fair, fair," Addie said. "But Celine, I have one condition."

"A condition," I repeated.

"Yes."

"Well, what is it?"

"If you're going to get this abortion, I want you to get an ultrasound first."

My eyes almost bulged out of its sockets. "What? Why?"

"Because I want you to be sure, hon."

"I am sure," I insisted. "I've thought about this day and night for weeks. I know what I want."

"I think if you heard the heartbeat..."

"Addie, absolutely not." The anger boiled in my veins, red-hot, and I felt my heart rate spike. How dare she ask this of me?

"Well, it's my condition. Take it or leave it," she said, folding her arms. Jesus Christ, why would she do this to me? I was turning to her because I had no one else. Now I was supposed to waste an afternoon listening to something that didn't even matter to me?

"I'll go with you," she said softly. "I just... You should be sure, you know? If you want me to be a part of this, I'm only doing it if it's really, really what you want—and you won't know that without seeing that baby."

"Stop calling it that," I snapped. "It's just a clump of cells! It's a fucking fetus is what it is."

"Okay, okay," Addie said, backing off. "Whatever it is, it deserves to be heard. If only once, Celine, it deserves it."

"Addie, I talked with a doctor and a counselor and went over all of my options. I'm absolutely sure about my decision, but if this is really what it's gonna take to get you to support me then fine. Whatever. I'll get the ultrasound."

And that was that.

—

Addie held my hand in the waiting room, but when a technician called my name, I decided to go alone. This was going to be something that I would need to do on my own. I needed to face the little parasite growing inside of me. I needed to be able to look at it and know with certainty that I did not want it.

I didn't really have a stance in the pro-choice/pro-life debate. I'd never thought I'd be put in a position like this, where it would actually be relevant to me. Now, I was realizing how important it was. I respected those that wanted to keep their pregnancies, and I completely understood those that wanted to terminate theirs. I sympathized with all women in my position.

The ultrasound transmission gel was very cold, and the technician apologized.

"I usually keep it warm, but I forgot with this batch," she explained. "Let's see, how many weeks along are you?"

"Thirteen," I said. I had the abortion planned for two hours from now, but she didn't need to know that.

"Okay, let's begin. This is the probe. I'm just going to press it on your tummy, and we'll get a good look at Baby, okay?"

"Um, okay."

She pressed the probe down on my stomach, and that's when I got the first look at my little parasite. There it was, baby-shaped and everything. I hadn't been expecting that. I'd thought it would still look like a little clump of cells, but it had arms and limbs and a big head and a delicate spine. I could count all the bones if it stood still, but it was constantly moving around.

"We're going to do what we call a heart tracing now," the technician said. "We'll get the beats per minute. There's Baby's heart, see it?"

I did. A little heart, beating fast. Thumping, probably faster than mine.

"Looks like the heart rate is steady. The measurement reads 149 beats per minute, which is completely normal. Let's take a look at Baby. See the ribcage there? Hands, arms, spine. You can make out the brain anatomy here. And the legs! Look at them move."

I was silent.

"There's where the cord is inserting into Baby's tummy. Now, I'll take some measurements."

I watched the technician as she explained everything to me as she went. We witnessed my little fetus dance in my womb, moving around so much that it made the technician laugh.

My heart was stuck somewhere in my throat.

"Oh, look, we've got the perfect angle to get an idea of the sex of Baby," the technician said, excited. "That's not always possible, and you'll want to wait until 20 weeks to start buying clothes for Baby's gender, but from what I can see... I mean, only if you want to know."

"I do," I said breathlessly. "Please tell me."

"A girl," she said, smiling. "You've got yourself a little girl."

My eyes filled with tears.

"Would you like to hear her heartbeat?" the technician asked.

"P-Please," I choked.

Then came the sound, penetrating every corner of the room, so loud, so steady that I felt tears escape from the corners of my eyes. Her heartbeat was wild, untamed, like an uncaged animal, and I instinctively reached to put a hand over my belly, feeling the sticky gel. She was down there, beneath the flesh and hiding in my womb, growing.

A girl.

Addie was waiting for me right outside, thumbing through a magazine in the waiting room. She looked up, caught sight of me, and hopped up to her feet.

"How'd it go?" she asked, linking her arm with mine.

"Fine."

"Have you changed your mind?" Addie asked.

"No."

—

The abortion clinic had me sign a lot of paperwork. I didn't even read it. I was too numb.

Addie didn't say anything. She could tell that something had changed, that I'd been altered somehow, right down to my bloodstream where there pumped blood, so much blood carrying right into my belly, giving sustenance to the little girl who no one wanted. The little girl who just wanted to be loved. The little girl who belonged to nobody. The little girl who was too young, too innocent to understand just how hard life could be.

The little girl I was about to lose.

The doctor entered the room, explained the procedure to me, and began to pick up the tools. I watched, still numb, still feeling as if time was moving on without me, as if this was all happening to someone else.

I was asked to spread my legs, and I thought of how I'd done this for men, had welcomed them into my body to fill the pain, to fill the emptiness.

And now, for the first time in my life, I wasn't empty, and I was throwing it away.

"Stop," I whispered.

"What did you say?" the doctor asked.

"She said stop," my counselor said. "Put down your tools, doctor."

Clarity came swimming into my vision, and I saw clearer than I ever had in my entire life. The numbness vanished, and my hand went to my belly.

And I cried. I cried so hard that they couldn't console me. I cried so fucking hard that they had to ask Addie to come help me. And when she did, I cried into her arms.

"I can't give her up," I sobbed. "I love her, Addie."

Addie held me tightly, stroking my back.

"I know, babe," she said softly. "No one's going to take her from you."

An entire life of being unwanted, of being treated like some kind of burden, of being that one lost lonely girl... how could I do that to her? To my own daughter?

The answer was simple:

I couldn't.

—

Motherhood wasn't for everyone. I understood that, respected it, and I knew deep down that if I'd never gone to that ultrasound, my daughter would have been taken out of my body, and I would've never thought twice about it. There was nothing wrong with that either, and I refused to let myself feel bad about it. I was a woman. It was hard enough being shamed by the world—I didn't need it from myself either.

I named her Bean; temporarily, of course, but it fit her nonetheless. Bean with her rapid heartbeat and constant movements, dancing in my womb, like she was always celebrating being alive. I was learning a lot from Bean, like how to be happy for no reason at all.

I loved her. It was a love I couldn't even begin to describe, a love that swam up from an ocean inside of me, and it was an ocean that just couldn't drown me because it wasn't water—it was love. Big love, enormous love. I was constantly overwhelmed by just how much she meant to me. I'd do anything for her.

The clouds began to roll away, and I felt all the sadness begin to drift away for a while, and then I remembered Bean's father. Guaranteed, he'd love her too. He'd give up everything for her... even his dreams. It killed me to think of Bean growing up without a father, but if he gave up his dreams, there would be countless mothers outliving their Beans. There were things in this world bigger than my Bean and I.

And so we sacrificed the life we could have had with Wes.

In a day's time, he'd leave for Johns Hopkins in Maryland, and it would be the last time I'd ever see him. I'd made my decision, had already planned a future with Bean, a life where we could live with pride knowing that her father was a hero, saving lives every single day. He'd get his training at Johns Hopkins, and then he could work anywhere in the world. He could end up at St. Jude's, something he'd mentioned once in passing. I had no doubt that he'd end up at one of the best hospitals in the world, and from a distance, Bean and I would be proud of him.

But we weren't going to get in his way. We weren't going to hold him back.

—

The party was planned by Elena. She was overjoyed for her son, and she wanted to send him off with all of his friends honoring him for a night. It was going to be a classy event, held at an intimate upscale restaurant with an elegant-casual dress code.

We arrived at The Hobbit in Orange at half-past seven, Addie and Rita carpooling with me from the salon. We'd all gotten our make-up and hair and nails done professionally. Addie looked like a damn queen in her long red sequined gown, like she was Jessica fucking Rabbit. Rita was in an off-the-shoulder mermaid dress, tight on all her curves, which she both loved and hated because she'd had to wear her tightest Spanx. I was simplest of all, black A-line V-neck floor-length chiffon evening gown with cape sleeves. It sounds complicated, but it's just a black dress.

Elena was in the restaurant, talking to the staff and going over the wine list. Janie was standing beside her, arms crossed, probably upset over something her mother had told her that she wasn't allowed to do. She perked up considerably when she saw us.

"Holy shit," Janie said, her jaw dropping. "You guys are too good for this place." The host shot her a look, making Addie laugh.

I hugged Janie, blinking away some tears. I had come to love this girl, and tonight would be the last time I'd ever see her. If I was going to keep Bean a secret, I had to cut them all out, including all of Wes's friends and family. It hurt like hell, but if I was going to ensure that Wes had the future he'd always dreamt of, it was what I would have to do.

The hors d'oeuvres were set on a table, and we all mingled as we waited for the rest of the guests. Wes's friends arrived sporadically; they were surgeons, after all, and their schedules were unpredictable. Wes arrived dressed in slacks and his nicest shirt, a blazer hung over his arm, laughing at a joke that James was telling him. They both looked so handsome, tall and built like runners, lean muscle, and trim waists with arms that could make any human drool.

Wes caught my eye from across the room and gave me such a radiant smile that my heart seemed to shatter from it; his Hollywood smile. God, was it really our last night together already? Where had the time gone? He'd come into my life like the thunder and the rain, that deafening laugh, showering me with so much love that it was almost like I was brimming with it, overflowing. I wanted him near me.

"Celie," he said as I approached him.

"Celine," I corrected.

"Isn't that what I said?" he asked with an easy, casual grin.

"Jesus, just kiss me and get it over with already," I said, echoing those lines from so long ago when we'd shared our first kiss. He'd been so obnoxious, the creepy stranger who'd returned my car keys and dared to pull me into the farmer's market. I'd bought him that stupid avocado and a coffee, and we'd forgotten about the world around us. What had changed? Nothing. We were still like that, and I was still just as terrified about how I felt about him.

Wes kissed me, pulling me into his arms. Our friends made stupid noises in the background, 'Oohs' that made me smile against Wes's mouth. He put his hands on my waist and dipped me, deepening the kiss, and I swear, it was like in the movies. I'd never been kissed like this before.

When he pulled back, he pressed his lips to my ear and whispered, "I love you, Celie. And yes, I'll fucking call you that."

I laughed. "Whatever, Westley."

We had our fancy, expensive dinner. Wes kept putting his hand over mine as we ate, almost like he was making sure that he could touch me, that I still belonged to him. It hurt. It hurt so fucking bad. This was our last night together and he didn't even know it.

I hugged everyone that night. Tight squeezes, and biting back the tears. I would miss all of those surgeons and doctors, those selfless crazy geniuses, the ones that had sacrificed their sleep and sanity to become the professionals they were today. They were my friends; they were my tribe.

And I would never see any of them again.

—

We stumbled into my apartment, Wes a little tipsy from all the wine he'd drunk at the restaurant. I held him up, giggling as he sang "Dark Side" by Phoebe Ryan.