Pretending to be Pregnant

Eight

"I just don't get it. These people are supposed to be your friends." Ryan shouted, angry. He slammed his fist down on the sofa, before grunting in exasperation. "I can't believe this." This time he accompanied the slamming of the fist with a kick of the foot.

"The were my friends." I responded quietly whilst sniffing. I placed dramatic emphasis on the 'were', making sure that Ryan heard. I had told Ryan everything as soon as we had got in and now we were sitting on his sofa whilst I quietly grasped a tissue, dabbing my eyes every so often. I realised that I looked pathetic, but I was seriously upset about the betrayal of my friends. Furthermore, I was upset because I wasn't pregnant and for the first time in my life I wanted to be. No, sorry, I needed to be.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to let anything happen to you, or this baby." Ryan told me, gently stroking my hair and glancing at my stomach where the invisible, non-existent baby was cradled. At this thought, I burst into tears once again, although this time for a different reason. "I promise." Ryan whispered into my hair, his hand falling still for a moment as it stroked the thick waves.

"Sorry, I'm just, just a bit hormonal." I apologised to Ryan, stretching across to the table and grabbing another tissue from the box.

"Understandable. I'll make you a cup of tea, shall I?" I nodded and smiled as Ryan placed a kiss on my head. How was I doing this to him? He was a real gentleman and I knew, that when he found out, Ryan would never forgive me for this. I sighed and dabbed at my eyes once more with the tissue, before getting up and making my way across the living room towards the kitchen.

"I don't deserve you." I told Ryan, wrapping my arms around his waist and snuggling into his back. He turned around and smiled at me.

"No, you deserve somebody far better." He told me, stirring the tea bag in the cup of tea. I shook my head, oh if only he knew. Smiling sadly I removed my arms from his waist and grasped the mug he offered me.

"Thanks." I murmured, hastily taking a sip. "So, what time will your parents be back?" I enquired. Ryan turned and waggled his eyebrows.

"They're out all night." I giggled and placed my mug of tea on the counter, before quickly pressing my lips to his. Deceptively, I pulled away with the intention of teasing Ryan.

"I just have to call my mum and let her know where I am." I told Ryan. He nodded and turned away as I shoved the phone to my ear. My heart was pounding beneath the top of my dress and I was almost certain that from the other end of the phone my mother would be able to hear.

"Hello?" I asked tentavily as I heard the phone click with an answer.

"Esme! I'm just out. You're father called me, wanted me to meet him in New York or something, so I'm kind of just about to board a plane!"

"What?" I screeched in surprise.

"I'll be back, in around two days. Don't worry. Anyway, got to go, plane to catch." I shook my head as my own mother put the phone down on me. This frequently happened. My mother would miss my father when he was away and end up catching the first flight out to where ever he was. It was true love. Typical.

"Mum's gone to New York. She couldn't care less about my safety or whereabouts." I told Ryan as I pulled him closer to me. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Guess that means that you're all mine!" I gave a girly giggle and kicked off my shoes, all events of the day were forgotten as he pulled me closer and led me up the stairs.

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A couple of hours later I woke up to find Ryan gone. As I wandered downstairs, dressed in a fluffy, grey, winter dressing gown, that was far too big for myself, I noticed a tiny slip of paper lying on a table with a small amount of scribble.

'Gone to get some food. Be back soon. Love you lots. Rx'

I clasped the note to my chest and cuddled it grinning, whilst quickly checking the modern, clock hanging above the table. It was just gone eight and with a rumble of my stomach I realised I was starving. Silently, I padded around the kitchen, my bare feet slapping the cold marble floors. On the kitchen side, lay my mug of tea, cold and forgotten. I picked it up and placed it in the microwave in order to warm it. After a quick zap it was hot enough to drink.

On the kitchen table lay Ryan's laptop, Ryan had fired it up earlier in order to send an email to a lawyer. I clicked off the page Ryan had been on and typed 'Facebook' into the search engine. I knew that, on the Internet, there would be all sorts of rubbish about me, but somehow, I believed I had to face it. I logged into my Facebook account and instantly regretted it. There were statuses, lots of them, about myself. Everyone of them said something hurtful or mean about the 'pregnant slut', even the unpopular people were degrading myself. After a quick look through my news feed, I'd decided I'd had enough. Facebook was nothing but trouble and I never used it anyway. Before I knew it I had deleted my account and it was gone. I finally felt like I was having a fresh start. I clicked off the screen and closed the laptop lid, chancing another glance at the clock.

Ryan would be home soon.