Good Morning, Loves!

For those wondering, Edward finished his masters back in Lockdown. In the UK, most (if not all, I'm not quite sure about this) masters programs are only a year. His plan was to transition from masters to PhD while over there, but lockdown forced him back to the states. He's back for a PhD program which will run 3-4 years for him. Right now they are planning on being in the UK that long. What the plans are after that, I'll let them tell you.

All mistakes are on me.


Nineteen: Bella

October 3, 2022

Cambridge, England

My eyes burn as I stare at my laptop. I'm fucking exhausted my brain practically gummy with how hard I've been thinking today. I'd gotten a job shortly after arriving in the UK with a publishing company based in London. I edit from home, which is a luxury I think I have the pandemic to thank for. I go into the London office every once in a while, but for the most part, I can operate out of our apartment in Cambridge.

I've been sluggish this week, and though my work load is light, I'm finding it hard to get through any of it. I try to force myself to focus on the words in front of me, but it just doesn't work.

Grunting, I snap my laptop shut and shake my head. I need coffee.

Standing from the sofa, I toss my laptop aside and glance out the window. It's a beautiful, crisp autumn day. It's a relief that the weather has finally turned cool.

August, it turns out, is a shit month no matter where you live, but it was unexpectedly annoying in Cambridge. September had been better, but the heat had lingered far too long for my tastes.

I kick around the apartment—I refuse to call it a flat—for my shoes, and when I slip them on and find a decent coat, I make sure I have my wallet before heading out.

Cambridge is beautiful, I'll give it that. I'm still looking the wrong way crossing the street and getting lost in the small streets that all look the same, but it's been beautiful.

It took me about a week of moving into our apartment to find the best coffee shop near us. It was a lot of trial and error, and I'd been pretty pissy for the whole week until I'd found the right place.

I absolutely refuse to switch to tea.

Edward has been going to campus for about a week now, though technically today is his first day of school. I'm excited for him, and so fucking proud. I know he's nervous about coming back to school, but I know he's also going to be fucking awesome.

I get to the cafe, annoyed there is a line, but desperate enough to wait for the coffee.

In some ways, England is a little like LA, but in most ways it's so different I don't know what to do with myself. I'm loud here, louder than I was even back home, and awkward as hell. I don't really care that people notice me like that—it's never bothered me before what people think of me—but being American over here, on top of my loudness, makes me stand out in a way I didn't expect.

My phone buzzes with a text from Edward, and I smile. He's between lectures, still on campus, but wants to go out to dinner tonight. It's just as well. I wanted to make him some sort of meal to celebrate his first real day of school, but I haven't quite gotten into the swing of the grocery stores here yet.

As I type out my response, I can feel my chest tightening with the familiar ache of heartburn. I've had it a lot recently, and I've been blaming it on the food we've been eating out on. I really should get to the supermarket soon.

The heartburn continues to grow until I'm so uncomfortable, I have to go find a pharmacy.

Annoyed that I'm going to have to skip my coffee for this shit, I leave the cafe.

The pharmacy is only a few blocks down, and I storm over, in pain and frustrated.

It's blissfully empty inside when I head down the aisle to pick up some antacid.

At the check out, the lady behind the register gives me a smile when she sees my purchase. "A touch of heartburn, Love?"

I grunt. "Yeah. I must not be used to the food here."

She grins. "It can take an adjustment," she agrees. "Though, I never had heartburn until I was pregnant the first time. Then it lasted nearly the full nine months!"

I freeze, my body going cold. "What?"

She continues to speak, but all I can hear is the word pregnant repeating over and over in my head. I step back from the counter—even though the lady behind the register is talking to me—and head back down the aisles. No way I'm pregnant. The IUD is almost perfect in it's reliability.

There is no fucking way I'm pregnant.

Except, I've been off since we got here. I figured that was the stress of moving to a new country and shit, but what if it's not? What if…

I pace the aisle, tapping my fingers against my palm as I eye the pregnancy tests. Shit. Am I really doing this?

I've never had to take a pregnancy test alone. The girls have always been there for this. What the fuck am I supposed to do if it's positive?

I'm going to throw up, and even though I know it's from nerves, part of me wonders if this is morning sickness.

Get your shit together, Bella.

I grab a few tests and head back to the register. The woman stares at me wide-eyed and I just grunt, too nervous to speak.