It was nothing like I would have expected. Stitch is a ladies man, but that night he was so gentle and so careful not to hurt me. He was attentive and tender, while passionate and giving and I fell asleep feeling safe in his arms and safe in the knowledge that there was somebody who cared for me enough to let me see into their soul like he had that night. He had saved me from a night alone in fear and I was so thankful that he was there. He was just what I needed and the only person that I wanted.
When morning came I turned in my bed and expected to see him but he was gone. There was merely a note which read :
Princess,
Thank you for letting me be your knight in shining armour. I'm sorry I won't be here when you read this, Josh came home and I thought I better leave. You look so beautiful when you're asleep. Last night meant a lot to me. I'm so glad I didn't lose you and that I could be there when you needed me. Take care of yourself. You need to find a good man to take care of you. You deserve that.
See you at work when you're recovered.
Stitch.
I was so disappointed by that note and in the days following. It was back to business as usual. Whenever I tried to talk to him about what had happened he avoided it and shut himself off. I can count on more than two hands how many times he walked away when I tried to talk to him about it. I don't know whether it was because I really meant nothing to him or because I meant all that he was avoiding me and us. I don't know if everything that had come out of his mouth that night was just a lie to make me feel safe and comforted but it was as if none of that days events had affected him after that night. Even the banter wasn't up to its usual standard. It was as if he had allowed himself to completely forget everything he had said, everything I had meant to him. It was if he had forgotten what had happened to me that day after all.
I wasn't so lucky. I had terrible nightmares and my thoughts often turned to Stitch and how considerate he had been that evening. I was left wondering where it had all gone and what I had done to cause him to shut off when he had just started to open up to me. I understood it wasn't like him to have emotional attachments. I understood he was probably suppressing any feelings that night had raised because he was a ladies man really and didn't know how to deal with such strong emotions for one person. But was that wishful thinking on my part? Was I just thinking that to justify to myself how he had treated me?
I was so angry and so tired. I wasn't sleeping so when I missed my period and I started feeling nauseous and exhausted at first I simply thought it was stress. I waited for my next period and it never came. I waited for Stitch to see if I was alright and to say anything that indicated that what had happened that night was more meaningful to him than he was letting on but I got neither and then when the backache came and the nausea continued I knew that he'd left me with a little more than either of us had bargained for.
I did the test at the hospital like Selena had done just months before, alone in the hospital toilets and in tears. Only I didn't have anyone to talk to about it. I didn't want to burden Selena when she'd had such a horrible time deciding what to do about her baby and so I decided whatever the outcome I'd go it alone.
The two minutes seemed like hours and I was absolutely petrified. Stitch was avoiding me and he was hardly the paternal type. If I was pregnant like I suspected then I didn't have a choice but to be a single parent because I feared that even when I told him he'd deny and avoid any responsibility. That was if I decided that I would keep the baby. Then I remembered everything that I had said to Selena about how precious motherhood was. I thought about how awful it had made me feel to think that she was terminating a tiny life and as soon as the two lines came up on that test and I knew there was a baby I just knew that there was no way I was going to not bring into the world the precious little person that was growing inside of me. I loved it from that very moment and knew that no matter who its father was I would love it enough for both of us.
I couldn't bring myself to tell him. I was tired and nauseous and people often told me how pale I was but he didn't pass one comment on any of it. Days turned into months and I still hadn't told him he was going to be a father. I just didn't know how. Things were so awkward. If only he'd speak to me about what happened the night our baby was conceived. If only he would admit how he felt and that all he said was true instead of simply avoiding it. He never did though so I carried on as I was. I was going through all of it alone, the only one who knew about my unborn child. A bond that could never be broken. My stomach grew with the life inside of it, although as it is now I'm four months gone and my scrubs still hide it. My sin, my baby. Our baby.
I'm amazed no one has guessed. He's probably too shut off emotionally to even try and figure out what's been going on with me. If anything he probably either thinks I'm pining for him or that it's the aftermath of the attack. That's probably what they all think. No-one knows what happened between Stitch and I that night. There have been so many times when I have rushed off due to nausea, simple things making my stomach turn that never would have done it before. There have been so many times that I have stood there at work with a hand rubbing my slightly swollen belly as I think of my baby growing inside of me and the night of its conception. I avoid coffee, I avoid lifting, I fall asleep on breaks and yet no-one has noticed my perfect little bump, or the gentle caresses to my stomach. No-one knows how wonderful it makes me feel to know that there's a tiny little person growing there inside of me every day or just how much I want to see it and to hold it no matter who it's father is and as the days go on it gets harder to find the strength to tell them. This baby is so wanted but the pregnancy has been so lonely.
