Swapped For Love

Chapter 4.1

Joy's POV

September 9

"Vincent?"

I lunged for the phone, answering without looking.

"Sorry, Joy, it's just me," Steven murmured softly.

''Um,'' I answered awkwardly, ''d-dude I mean, I am-''

He sighed, ''I know already, Joy.''

I hiccuped. Where was water jeez?

''It's really crazy. Like I still can't believe myself. How could this thing happen to us? How absurd it is!''

I paused, waiting for him to reply. Although he didn't talk about the body switching fiasco, I felt as if something was off.

"I just wanted to ask if everything was alright. Vincent was talking about visiting a gynecologist clinic this morning. Did something happen?" Steven asked, sounding concerned.

Crap.

Disappointment settled in my stomach, and as I processed his words, shock settled in. Slow and cruel.

"W-what did you say?" I stammered, my knees growing weak. I sank onto the bed.

Did he find out? How? I had been expecting—hoping—that it would take a few months, after everything had gone back to normal, before he found out I was pregnant. There was no way he could have found out on his own. Someone had to have told him. Him finding out sabotaged everything. The life I tried to put back together. The dreams I had about us starting over.

"I have to go."

With that, I hastily ended the call. Slapping on a pair of shoes, I rushed out of the door and took a taxi to the local health clinic in town. It was the closest to my home, and logically, Vincent would go there.

He had to.

Gritting my teeth, I prayed he would not decide anything without consulting me. No matter who inhabited it, my body was my body, and he had no right to do what he wanted with it.

When we arrived at the clinic, I tossed a twenty-dollar bill at the driver and jumped out before he could pull to a complete stop.

"Don't wait!" I called over my shoulder, running into the clinic as if my life depended on it. I reached the counter in seconds, needing, craving information.

"I'm looking for Joyceleen Smith," I snapped at the receptionist.

"How are you related to her?" she asked calmly, searching for my name on the computer.

"I'm...I'm her boyfriend. The father of her child," I said, grimacing.

"She's consulting with Miss Smith in room thirty-seven right now. Just turn right-"

I took off without bothering to let the receptionist finish her sentence; I easily remembered the path to the consultation rooms. Fear mounting in my chest, I quickened my pace.

Would he accept the baby? Would he ask me to abort? Numerous questions sprung to my mind as I ran. The idea sickened me, and all the while I had to hope he was better than that.

Reaching the door labeled "CT-37" I burst into the room. My mind racing, my heart in pieces. Panting, I knocked and I watched Vincent stare at me, peering up at me, cheeks lightly colored and face unreadable. I stared back, hollow.

"Oh, good, you're finally here," Vincent said, peering up at me.

How could he have known that I was coming? How could he be so calm?

"Who might you be?" the gynecologist in charge of me, asked.

"I'm... the father of her child. Vincent," I said, hesitating slightly. I glanced at Vincent who seemed like he was ready to cry. Or worse, jump out of the window.

"Would you mind if I talk to her privately?" I asked her.

"No problem," she answered with a warm smile, slipping out unobtrusively through the door.

The coldness in the room was worse than the tension; it was palpable, fresh, and like everything else in my life, I couldn't cut it out.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him.

"Apparently, I nearly had a miscarriage yesterday," he said simply.

My jaw fell open at the news.

"What?" I shrieked, then lowered my voice.

"Is the baby all right? How could you be so careless? What happened yesterday?"

"I nearly got hit by a car when I was crossing the road on a red light," he admitted, looking down at his--my stomach.

I cursed him.

"You did not," I gawked in horror, my hand drawn to cover my open mouth.

He looked up, part bashful, part furious, ''And you think I would suddenly have a dream that you were pregnant? Or an angel would descend down the heaven and whisper the news in my ear? Are you stupid Joy? We freaking switched bodies and you forgot to mention that?''

"Look, I'm sorry," I cried. "I wanted to tell you, but I thought you wouldn't accept the baby and when I finally gathered the courage to talk to you about it, you decided to break up with me, and then things got crazy. I just didn't know what to do, Vincent!"

Vincent looked like he wanted to kill someone.

"Well? You should have told me! It takes two to make a baby, not one!" Vincent shouted, betrayal slipping into his tone, as he was the only one left in the dark, "Did you honestly think you could bear the responsibility on your own? No wonder your parents were behaving like that!"

"Do you?" I countered hotly. "My body, my choice, Vincent. I don't want to be with you if it's only because I'm having your child, and frankly, I didn't tell you because you don't handle complications well," I snapped, a tear sliding down my cheek.

A beat.

"Are you going to get an abortion?"

The question that I was hoping he would never ask me. 

What was I going to do now?