Call Me Lover - LN4 / GR63

13 / can u take all the pressure

We had the most amazing five days in St Ives to start summer break. George often left me pink cheeked as he held me close, kisses were laced to every part of me as we explored the place we first met hand in hand. We visited familiar corners, watching the seals from the pier, laying on the beach and visiting the tiny burger restaurant where we had our first date after the surfing lesson my brother had dragged me on all those years ago. I'll always remind George of how bold it was for him to ask me out with my older brother standing right beside me. George always reassures me it was the scariest moment of his life, particularly with the way Dylan rolled his eyes at him - he's always been good at that. We also explored new places, the cinema hidden in the middle of the town and new spots in secret coves on beaches hiding around our cottage.

I was fighting a nausea the whole time (still am). The intense swarm of endless nerves in my stomach so bad that I've been throwing up at least every third day, even now when we're surrounded by others on our trip to Mauritius the feeling hasn't dulled.

The sudden phenomena was almost certainly caused by anxiety. The guilt that I deserve to feel after that night. After Lando, is eating me alive and this is the physical embodiment of it. "Food poisoning." I had flagged it to George as when he overheard me throwing up in the bathroom and sent me questioning and concerned glances on his return from the gym yesterday morning. Because how else could I explain it? 'I'm sick because I had drunken sex with your friend a month ago. Don't worry though, it was a mistake that I've been beating myself up over ever since because I love you so much' wouldn't cut it. I know it wouldn't. Who would be insane enough to accept the explanation? I've heard much less from George before leaving him behind in silence.

Of course for a brief moment my mind had gone to another place. What if the nausea was caused by something not anxiety related? What if my brainless actions in Lando's apartment that night had resulted in something more than just regrets? What if there was going to be a permanent reminder of our time together? The thought had only made me greyer, it's how George caught me throwing up yesterday. It was only when I convinced him I needed time to rest  (alone) that I found myself on an early morning run to a local pharmacy.

Three rushed pregnancy tests in the humid bathroom of the hotel cafe are what it took for any colour to return to my cheeks. My legs almost gave out under me with relief when the word 'negative' and the minus sign of confirmation appeared on the white sticks.

I don't know what I would've done if the result was the other way. It's something I prefer not to think about. There's no way I would've been okay, no way I could've kept that world altering news to myself - I've never been good at secrets. George would have known. Worse than that, he would have known that any potential child that might exist wasn't his. Before our trip to Cornwall we hadn't had sex in almost two and a half months - not that I had been keeping note. When we eventually did I silently cried in the bathroom afterwards, the way he gripped onto my hips as he leaned over my naked body reminded me of one thing and one thing only; Lando.

Lando whose name I nearly called out when George asked me what I wanted as his hands explored my body teasingly. Lando who has been texting me almost every day since I left his flat.

He asks variations of the question 'are you okay?' Giving brief half hearted updates on his own summer break in Ibiza and it's surrounding areas. Up until the weekend I've deleted every one leaving them unreplied to. It would feel like an admission of guilt to reply to anything he sends my way. But, of course, George is too nice to even think that. He'd had nothing but praise for Lando when he picked me up from outside of his home, even called him the day after to thank him. I don't think he realised what he was thanking him for - it's where my nausea began.