Ree
It has been exactly three weeks since the doctor confirmed I was pregnant. Three weeks.
I am nine whole weeks pregnant. It is insane to think about. Nine full bloody weeks. And I still feel nothing. No love, no resentment, no attachment, just nothing.
Except the fucking morning sickness. That has been relentless. The pills Dr. Bethuel prescribed helped a little, but it has been a rough month.
And all I want is a drink, but I can't because I'm fucking pregnant.
I give the girl's another half-assed excuse to avoid girl's night before retiring for the night.
At eight p.m.
On a Friday night.
Is this what my life has come to?
Maybe I should just call doc and book the abortion now.
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I am having a relaxed day in watching D.C Young Fly being stupid. Why is this show not on Netflix already?
Today is a good day. I have not thrown up yet and I have been gorging myself on mangos all morning. I feel surprisingly great right now.
"Told y'all she'd be here." I hear Lynn's voice as my door opens.
Fuck, I forgot I gave her a key.
Why did I do that? That was dumb of me.
"It's alive." Lynn announces dramatically when she sees me. Em smacks her playfully while Ali charges my way.
"Bitch, it's been three whole weeks since we saw you. What the fuck?" She questions glaring at me with her arms crossed.
"I've just been feeling like shit lately." Not entirely a lie.
"Have you been to the doctor?" Em asks with concern lacing her voice.
I instantly remember my last doctor's visit.
"Yes. She said I have a stomach bug. Gave me some pills."
All technically true.
"Sorry, hun. We brought you some food." I could kiss Ali right now as I notice the tupperware she is carrying.
"You guys," they are so sweet to think of me and actually bring me food. Do I have the best friends or what? They even left early to come check on me. I don't deserve them.
"Are you crying?" It is Lynn that asks.
"No." I try to compose myself, but it is in vain. I am overwhelmed by the love I have for these three girls in this room.
"Ree, you're kinda freaking me out." Ali comments as I sniffle.
"I'm fine. Really."
"Maybe she needs some rest. She's been working non stop for the past two months." Em suggests to the rest of them.
"Do you want us to leave?" Ali asks setting the tupperware down on my kitchen counter.
"No. Stay." Maybe my self imposed isolation is part of why I have been so apathetic.
"We aren't going to catch whatever you have, right?" Lynn asks opening my fridge.
"I'm not fucking contagious, Lynn." I smile holding back my tears.
"Have you had lunch yet?" Em asks also heading to the kitchen.
"Had a pineapple and some mangos." A lot of mangos.
Pregnancy cravings are not a joke. I must have had over fifty mangos this week alone.
"Ooh, I could go for some pineapple." Ali states.
"Help yourselves." I always stock a lot of food since we end up eating here twice a week. And Lynn's usually eating me out of house and home every time she visits which is three to four times a week.
"I'm still stuffed. What are you watching?"
"Oh my God! Ashley Jackson is engaged!" I love Em, but I swear sometimes her loud squeals can burst an eardrum if you're close enough.
"Ashley Jackson?" Ali asks peering over to get a look at whatever Em saw.
"Oh, you mean stankface. Who'd marry her?"
"I know, she's vile." I scrunch my face remembering fourteen year old Ashley tormenting my fourteen year old self.
Aside from starting the nickname flabby-Zuri, she spread lies about me, more than once 'accidentally' spilled food on me, then there were the pictures. She took pictures of me in the girl's locker room in various states of undress and sent them to the entire school. It was one of the worst experiences of my life.
Needless to say, we all hate her.
"Some hot millionaire." Em answers still scrolling through her phone.
"You're shitting me." Ali remarks unimpressed.
"He proposed at that restaurant at the top of the Eiffel Tower." Em continues.
"Look at that ring." She shows Ali who whistles and I assume the ring is a beauty.
"How is that fair? I thought mean girls turned into miserable adults." I can't believe that faker than a plastic bag bitch is winning.
"She's getting arranged married to a misogynist asshole known for being a cheater. If she's not miserable now, she will be." Lynn comments dryly.
"How do you know that?" I ask as she plomps down next to me on her phone.
"I've had the displeasure of meeting her 'loving fiance'. It took all of my self control not to punch him."
"I forget you roll in those circles." Ali says sitting on the other sofa.
"Why would he marry her though? The Jackson's aren't anywhere near as rich as the Montcrief's." Em asks.
Right. She may have gone to public school and is low contact with her family, but Em is also in the loop on such things.
"The Jackson's aren't, but rumour has it her grandad has some land the Montcriefs want. Desperately." Lynn answers her.
"Why don't they just buy it? What's with the arranged marriage?" That just makes no sense.
"It's how high society works." Em answers, even if it sounds stupid.
"That's dumb, though." Ali says exactly what I was thinking.
"Almost as dumb as her new lip fillers." Em comments still scrolling on her phone.
"Her lips look like two bratwursts now." Lynn comments lowly.
"Let me see." I stick my hand outgo Em deciding I have to see now.
I cannot help my laugh when I see one of the pictures.
"Is there any such thing as a plastic surgery addiction?" I ask going through her pictures.
She got her nose done back in high school, lipo-suction a couple of times since then, two boob jobs, cheek fillers, butt lift, veneers and now lip fillers. What's left?
"I think it's called zero confidence." Ali sasses.
"In her defence, she doesn't really have anything to be confident about."
There is a moment of silence before we break out laughing at Lynn's jab.
This. This is what I needed.
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"Do you have anything you want to tell me?" Lynn asks shortly after Em and Ali leave.
I was planning on warming the food they brought me, when I caught the smell of the ribs and immediately went to empty my guts.
"What do you mean?" I play dumb.
I mean, I did tell her that I caught a stomach bug.
"You've been AWOL for three weeks. No stomach bug or work could do that. You have a lot of bacon and mangos in your fridge; one I am assuming you are buying in bulk and the other it looks like you cannot stomach. And the biggest red flag, your wine bottles are the exact same ones from four weeks ago. Minus exactly one bottle."
I am speechless at the end of her little speech. Of course she noticed, she always takes stock of my kitchen!
"How far along are you?" Her question brings tears to my eyes.
"Nine weeks." I admit, feeling relieved to finally tell someone. But at the same time, actually saying it out loud to someone else makes it real and overwhelming.
This is all so confusing.
"And unless you started keeping secrets from me, the only person it could be is the guy from the threesome."
I break down crying now.
That's the worst part of this. If it had been someone I was in a committed relationship with, it would be one thing. Instead it is a stranger who is already in a committed relationship with Janelle fucking Montgomery of all people. The woman is literally perfect; skinny, gorgeous, rich, famous, smart, driven, hardworking, kind, charitable, and with a huge social media following.
Once word gets out, I am going to be labelled a homewrecker, and public enemy number one.
"Is this the pregnancy hormones? Do I need to disappear for thirty-one weeks?" Lynn asks patting my back awkwardly.
"I'm fine." I try to compose myself.
"I am. It's just, everything's just... It's all a mess. None of this was part of the plan." I try to explain.
"Yes, I know. The plan is your entire life guideline." I roll my eyes at ger sarcastic tone.
She doesn't understand.
"The plan is me taking control of my life." I remind her.
After everything I've been through, I decided I would take charge of my destiny. I set my goals and mapped out a plan on how to get them.
"That plan is a safety net." She states flatly.
"And what's wrong with that?
You have your family's money as your safety net. That's why you can do whatever you want all day long without worrying about your future, or work. Not all of us have that." I am so sick of her hating on my plan. Just because she can do whatever whenever does not mean I can. I need it.
"I'm going to put that on the hormones too, but talk to me like that again and I will hit back." She threatens making me roll her eyes. I don't need her childish games right now.
"Now, if you'll let me finish my point. That plan is a safety net. It's good to have, but you have to be able to live without. Shit happens. You can plan and plan and plan all you want, babe, but life is too chaotic, not everything will always go according to plan and that's okay. The boss bitch I know is resilient enough to survive.
Now, luckily for you, you still have a choice here. One procedure, and everything goes back to the plan.
Or you can adjust it. It's up to you.
Whatever happens, just don't have the baby on my birthday. That would be too freaky."
I smile noting that my due date is in fact right around her birthday.
But still.
"I don't know what to do." I confess. This dilemma has been plaguing me for weeks, spiking my anxiety and making me question everything.
"As much as I love bossing you around, I can't tell you what to do either.
But what you're not going to do is do this alone."
I start tearing up at how sweet my friend is.
Why have I been pushing her away? I felt so alone and miserable, but now this whole situation doesn't seem so bleak.
She's the best.
"Oh, I don't mean me. You have like a thousand siblings and cousins. I'm still planning on disappearing." She jokes resulting in me punching her lightly.
"You see?" We end up laughing, and for the first time in four weeks, I feel okay.
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