⇾ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 | 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐈

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙬𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙮-𝙁𝙤𝙪𝙧 ➪ 𝙃𝙚𝙮, 𝙈𝙪𝙢

ꕥ July 10, 1966 ꕥ
11 weeks

I was back at Paul's house now, vomiting. After the doctor's appointment, I started to feel terrible. It had gotten so bad that I had to call into work and tell them I couldn't come in. It was much later that evening and it had been going on for quite some time, but it showed no signs of stopping whatsoever.

I wiped my mouth and leaned against the closest thing I could find to a wall around me, which just so happened to be the corner of the cabinet. Paul appeared in the doorway with a washcloth. He turned the sink on and soaked it thoroughly in cold water before he wrung it out and handed it to me.

"Put it on your forehead," he told me, kneeling down next to me selflessly. "It'll make it feel better." Despite how worried I knew he was about me, there was a small, encouraging smile on his lips. I couldn't get over the way he looked at me. It made me feel really good inside.

I did as he told me. I raised the cloth to my forehead and immediately sighed. "I hate to make you leave again, but can you get me some water?" I asked him sheepishly. "Some very cold water?"

He chuckled and nodded, reaching over to brush some hair out of my face. Then, he finally stood back up and went towards the kitchen.

He returned a moment later with a red plastic cup. He sat down next to me, crossing his legs as he handed the cup to me. There was ice swirling around in the water and I felt the relief it brought almost before it passed through my lips and slid down my throat. I nodded in approval as I lowered it back down. "That feels a lot better," I told him gratefully.

Then, from out in the living room, we both heard the phone ring.

"One second, love," he told me before standing up and going to answer it.

I stood up next, reaching over to flush the toilet. Then, I trailed my way out into the living room after him. I was just about to lay back down on the couch when I saw him look over at me. "It's for you," he said as he held out the phone for me, and the words came as a shock to both of us.

"Hello?" I asked when I'd made it over there and taken the phone.

"Juliette?" Caroline asked, but before I could respond, she was speaking again. "Your mom is here," she told me. "And she's pissed."

ꕥ ꕥ ꕥ

I had no choice. I felt like I was about to die between my sore throat from all the puking I'd been doing, and the nerves that were swimming in my stomach and rattling my bones, causing my legs to shake.

Paul had looked almost mad when I told him I had to go over there. He made it abundantly clear that I should have just stayed back since I wasn't feeling good, but when my mother was mad, the last thing you wanted to do was leave her standing alone. Maybe he could sense that that was the case and he simply felt it was unsafe for me to be there, but I didn't believe that. After all, she wouldn't physically hurt me, would she?

As I drew nearer and nearer to the apartment building, I grew more and more nervous. I wasn't exactly thrilled to hear that my mother had showed up unannounced to my apartment and I wished that I'd had to guts to tell her to leave, but I didn't. I feared she might snap me in half if I did.

I pulled into the parking lot and found my usual parking spot that was as close to the door as I could possibly manage and climbed out of the car. I stood still for a moment, letting my swimming stomach adjust to the sudden movement and hoping desperately that my vomiting would hold off long enough for me to get yelled at and for her to just leave.

I entered the building and made the normal journey up to our apartment, feeling like I was walking death row as I turned my possible fates over and over in my head. Maybe she'd do a little bit of belittling and yelling, then suddenly announce that she was supportive of me. Maybe she'd so belittling and yelling, then announce that she wasn't supportive of me. Maybe she'd disown me. Who the fuck even knew with her? I certainly didn't. She was so damn unpredictable.

I placed my hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly, opening the door even more slowly.

As soon as the door was wide enough, my mother stood up off of our couch. I wasn't sure were Caroline was. I wager she'd left us alone.

I quickly stepped inside and closed the door, swallowing intensely as she got closer to me, a completely unreadable look on her face.

"H-hey, mum," I said nervously to get things moving along a bit quicker.

"How could you do this?" she demanded. "How dare you carry that sinful thing in your womb, tarnishing our family's name!" Tears pricked my eyes at the words. My baby wasn't a "sinful thing." That was my fucking child she was talking about. Her grandchild.

"You're just as bad as your sister!" She scoffed. "And to think we trusted you. I should have bloody known better." Suddenly, her voice was nothing more than a whisper. "I just want you to know that I want nothing to do with that thing. I've helped you out all your life and asked for one thing in return, and guess what? You couldn't even keep that promise, so you're on your own. You did this to yourself."

And that was the end. She glared at me since I was blocking her only way of storming out of the apartment, but I wanted to at least offer up some sort of argument. "How dare me?" I asked quietly. "How dare you. You're my mother. You're supposed to be there for me. You're supposed to be telling me that everything is going to be okay, but you're not!" My words were coming in spurts now as I struggled with the tears that were falling from my eyes and making my voice crack. "You're not even trying. What kind of mother leaves her daughter alone during the time that she needs her the most?" I moved from my spot in front of the door.

"Go ahead and leave!" I yelled. "Because I don't fucking need you here anymore! You'll realize that you can't throw your own child out of your life someday, but until then I can do it all on my own."

It seemed she didn't have any room left to fight. Any energy. I hoped my words cut her deep. I hoped they helped her realize how much of a terrible person she was for doing this.

I hadn't ever asked her to help me. I just wanted to know that I could tell her anything and she wouldn't act like this, and I never got that.

She looked as if she debated speaking up again, but then decided not to. I think we both needed some time to calm down before anything else was said. If anything else was ever said. I watched as she opened the front door and left.

As soon as the sound of the door closing echoed throughout the tiny apartment, I put my head in my hands and began to sob. I pulled my knees to my chest, feeling desperately alone. I found myself wishing that Paul was here with me. He would surely know how to make me feel better.

Thinking of him brought on a whole new set of problems. What was I going to do about him? Would I ever actually take the leap and date him? Would I give my heart what it was longing for? Or would I continue to give in to the fear that filled me from inside out. After all, if I didn't have Paul there to help me with the baby, who else would I have? Who would my baby have?

I couldn't afford to lose him, but I still wanted him so bad. What was I going to do?

ꕥ February 14, 2021 ꕥ
Author's Note

Sorry it had to be such a depressing chapter on such a happy day. Bay Valentine's Day, everyone!!🥰🥰