Authors: Cristiane Serruya
Why can’t I control my emotions when I’m around her? Why is everything getting worse instead of better? She is pregnant. Pregnant. I told her it didn’t matter if the sperm didn’t come from my body. I was prepared to see her pregnant with another man’s sperm. I should be happy. Thrilled. Instead, I’m feeling confused, miserable and in pain. Did she betray me? Did she do it without informing me? Why? When? With whom?
Closing his eyes, he bent and rested his hands on his knees, and breathed deep, struggling to find control.
His gentle witch brought out the deepest emotions in him, from the most intense passion and excruciating pain to the most tender feelings of protection and fierce love. And in her, he had found his peace. He could not lose her.
Fucking hell!
He gave up any control and sat on the chair. Putting his face in his hands, Alistair started crying like a hurt child.
That alarmed Tavish, who sat by him with a soothing hand on his shoulder. “Alistair Connor, is there something wrong with the baby? If it is endangering Sophia’s health, abortion is always a solution. I’ve seen the tests so far and there is nothing wrong with her.”
Amid tears, Alistair asked, “How the fuck do you know something I just heard about?”
What else does he know that I don’t?
“I know your high sex drive. Sophia has been showing typical signs of the first trimester. Why her doctors didn’t ask for a pregnancy test from the start, baffles me.”
Alistair wanted to laugh out loud derisively, but only a shuddered breath left his body. He knew he shouldn’t have left the room without listening to the whole explanation.
“You didn’t want a child?! Is it too soon?” Tavish was not understanding what the problem was. “Sorry to say, you should expect a pregnancy when sex is involved. There is no hundred percent safe prevention. Listen Alistair Connor, life has a complex plan that we don’t understand sometimes. While we dream, work and organize, it makes its own tweaks. Many times circumstances might not turn out as we hoped. Stop fighting against your greatest ally.”
“This has nothing to do with allies or enemies. We wanted a baby.”
Tavish rolled his eyes at his brother. “You’re not making sense. So if you both wanted a child, she is pregnant; there is nothing wrong so far… What’s the problem, Alistair Connor?”
They will all know anyway. No matter my decision.
Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose.
Explain it and end the subject. That’s what you need: the closure of truth.
He saw no more reason to withhold the truth. Somberly, he said, “I can’t have children, Tavish Uilleam.”
The agony in Alistair’s voice sliced the air and robbed Tavish of reason. The temperature in Dr. Merkel’s office room plunged a few degrees.
“I don’t understand.”
“You will,” Alistair stated, sitting straight and facing his brother. As he did with Sophia, he told Tavish what had happened all those years ago.
“Easy, easy.” John put his hands on her shaking shoulders. “Sophia, listen to me.”
“I can’t be pregnant. This result is wrong,” she repeated and sobbed, looking at him with stormy eyes.
“Drink slowly and calm yourself. I can assure you the result is correct. I checked it myself twice. From now on you have a baby to think of.” John gave her a glass of water. “Sometimes miracles happen when you least expect them. No one believes that more than I do. I see it every day, my dear.”
“By miracle, do you mean Alistair Connor is cured?” Sophia wiped her face with the back of her hands and accepted a box of tissues John offered her. “Of sterility? Of a permanent, irreversible inability to have children? Or do you mean that his condition was just a temporary problem?”
John looked at Sophia’s distressed face, as fresh tears formed again in her eyes. “Sophia, don’t cry. I’ve seen this happens many times. The word infertile doesn’t mean sterile, but sometimes the ones involved don’t understand it; they can’t hear it correctly because they’ve had so many tragedies in their lives, they can no longer believe in their desire. They abort and sterilize any chance of hope. It is sad, but true. When something like that happens, people get confused. Alistair is having a normal reaction. If you’re pregnant, and you only had sex with Alistair; he was probably diagnosed with infertility, which is not sterility. He just understood differently.”
“Is it possible? Is it possible he wasn’t sterile? That I am pregnant?” She put a trembling hand over her stomach, and dared to believe in John’s words. With a sigh that came from deep within her chest, she asked, “He would want to be sure. I would want him to be sure. How long does it take to do the test?”
“Male infertility is usually better diagnosed by semen analysis. A relatively simple test. Alistair provides a semen sample. We measure the amount of semen and the number, shape and movement of sperm. Ideally, the test should be performed twice to confirm the results but I can assure you that with only one test, I can give you a decisive result. I’ll put a rush on it and in an hour we’ll have the result. I can bet Alistair was diagnosed with infertility and thought it was sterility.”
“He is so certain he’s sterile.” Doubt spread in her mind. “Will he do it?”
“I’m not trying to find excuses for his behavior, but if he was so sure of his condition, the pregnancy news must have been a shock. Your husband is a stubborn man but he loves you, Sophia.” John put the glass away. “Now. I need your promise to be calm.”
Please, God, make him see the truth and realize he was mistaken.
Sophia nodded. “I will.”
As soon as John left the room, Edward came in.
Oh, dear! How can I explain all this mess?
She closed her eyes when he sat on the chair next to her and took her hand between his.
“You don’t need to say a word to me, Sophia, love. You’re my friend and I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’m here for you,” he reinforced his promise, squeezing her hand gently.
Oh, Edward.
Sophia opened her eyes, gazing into his kind, friendly blue eyes. “Thank you, Edward.”
“Now, she is pregnant… And… I am starting to doubt myself,” Alistair said to his brother. “I… I wish— How long does it take to know if I am fertile?”
Oh, Christ.
“
Mycoplasma
is not known to cause sterility, but there have been few studies.” Tavish pierced Alistair with a grave look. “You surely don’t believe she was with another man. We are talking about Sophia. Failing to trust and believe in her doesn’t—”
“Nae. I don’t want to believe she chea—” He didn’t want even to think of this possibility. He didn’t want to doubt his wife. Out of control, he jumped from the chair and paced the room, looking like an enraged panther ready to pounce.
It’s myself I should doubt. It’s I that have been cheating on her, on me, on us.
“I’ve been so certain of my incapacity, for so long.”
“Do a test. It won’t hurt,” Tavish said simply.
The news of her pregnancy had come as a visceral shock that was still reverberating through his body and soul. He wanted so much to be happy, but he was so afraid, he hated himself.
Alistair Connor, do the test. Why are you always bypassing real proof? Dwelling in your imagination won’t change reality. The sooner you discover you’re fertile, the sooner you can apologize for your irrational behavior and enjoy the happiness of being able to be a father again.
John knocked on the door and entered the room, looking at the brothers.
The words left Alistair’s mouth before he could think, “John, could you arrange for a sperm test?”
5.41 p.m.
“MacCraig.” Edward was leaning on the threshold of the waiting room, his arms crossed over his chest.
Alistair and Tavish turned their heads to look at him.
Edward waved a small piece of paper in the air. “Sophia has left a message for you.”
A message? Where is she?
“What?” Alistair advanced in Edward’s direction with two long strides. “Give me this.”
Edward looked at him through narrowed eyes. “She is pregnant with your child. Four weeks.”
Quickly in his mind, he remember her last period and did the math. Alistair winced.
It was conceived near my birthday.
Edward turned to leave, stopped and looked back. “By the way, she went home with Steven and Zareb about fifteen minutes ago.”
What?!
Alistair whirled around.
“You shouldn’t have—”
“Do you think I care?” Edward scolded in a low voice. “Besides, she went by her own will. She wanted to talk with you. She waited and waited. You were doing the exam. You’d rather have an exam result than believe in her. She is hurting. Too much. Sophia is my friend—”
“Sophia. Is. My. Wife. Don’t you dare—” He towered over Edward, who didn’t move from his place.
Edward’s eyes flashed. “I dare. She loves you and she doesn’t deserve this. Try to behave like a caring husband, MacCraig.”
The discussion was stopped by Tavish, who tugged at Alistair’s sleeve. “This is not the place, nor the time.” He pulled again and looked over his shoulder at Edward. “Thank you for taking care of Sophia.”
“My pleasure.” Edward smirked and whirled away, leaving Alistair even more regretful of his actions.
6.17 p.m.
“
She is right, you know?” muttered Tavish. “You’re a caveman.”
I know. And I love it when she calls me that.
“Don’t start defending her,” he said without much conviction, loosening his tie.
“Oh, nae, Sophia doesn’t need defending. You do. From yourself.” He frowned, musing, “Understand that thinking you were sterile might have been a Freudian slip. Now that you’ve been proven wrong, you’re too afraid to appreciate it? Live, Alistair Connor. Live, and let yourself be happy.”
Alistair sarcastically raised an eyebrow. “You believe in miracles?”
“I’m alive, aren’t I?” was Tavish’s answer.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph. How insensitive!
He put a hand over his brother’s. “Aye, and we all thank God for it, Brother.”
Tavish nodded in appreciation but forged on, “You’ve failed to realize that your union and your love sparked the desire to create a life without trying to control everything. That’s why you didn’t even consider being tested on your first appointment with John.”
“Seems I’ve been failing to do many things,” Alistair sat in the waiting room, massaging his temples. It hurt even to think.
What is she going to say? Should I go home? Will she let me in?
The next question was out of his mouth before he could stop it, “Will she forgive me?”
“Everyone has problems once in a while, Brother. But love has to be stronger than the problems. It is up to her to decide, but if you are asking my opinion, she will accept you back,” Tavish said seriously, and then his mouth twisted up. “She doesn’t think she is perfect. I’m sure she doesn’t mind your many imperfections!”
“Many, huh?” Alistair scowled at his brother.
“Well…” Tavish’s lips opened in a smile. “If I start counting, we could be here a while.” But his smiles never lasted long since his return from Afghanistan. He was serious once more, when in a wistful tone, he rasped, “Love is patient and kind. It gives us space to look deep inside our souls. It cures. You needed healing, Alistair Connor.”
Aye, I needed healing.
“I must say,” Tavish continued, “you’ve just begun the process—” He stopped when he saw the poker-faced mask descend over Alistair’s features as he took out his iPhone from his suit.
It was John’s cell phone number.
“MacCraig,” he answered, flickering his eyes up to his brother before fixing it on the white ceiling.
“Alistair, would you care to come over to talk?”
“John, as ever, you’re so kind, but I won’t disturb you anymore today. You can give me the results by phone.”
“Well, then. Congratulations, Alistair, you’re fully recovered. You’re fertile.”
Atwood House.
7.13 p.m.
Sophia was not easily angered and she kept no record of grudges, but she was feeling so wronged by Alistair that the hours had passed in a blur of pain. She had reasoned with herself that it wouldn’t be a normal reaction for her husband to wait placidly for John to explain that there was a possibility that he could be the father - or for her to reassure him she had never betrayed him, which she could have done but was too shocked to even think of.
She had talked to her image in the mirror and had tried to distract herself a bit with Gabriela, but the pounding ache was there, pumping in the rhythm of her heart.
She had sought refuge in the shadows of the Indonesian bed they bought during their honeymoon. Tears stung her eyes as she remembered how they had chosen its place, in one of the corners of the terrace, laughing naughtily and planning elaborate sex scenes, only to tumble there full of lust and do it missionary.
Covered by a warm blanket, Sophia curled up into the silk fluffy cushions, and let the tears come again.
7.39 p.m.
Alistair didn’t know how he had finished the call, or what he had talked about with Tavish, or how his car had ended up inside their garage. What was worse, he didn’t have the faintest idea what he was going to say or how his wife was going to react.
The mere idea of losing her was crippling.
All he knew was that he had never been so mannerless, rude, and to top it off, unfair in his whole life and that he needed to rectify his error.
I can’t lose her. I can’t lose them.
Them!
When he realized the size of the consequences of what he had done, its venom burned down and cut straight into his stomach.
Alistair’s large frame filled the terrace glass doors, shadowing the light that came through their room.
It’s not just Sophia.
It’s Sophia, Gabriela and our baby.