"I don't like seeing you like this, love." Peter told Carla, as he came into the bathroom, having just visited the kitchen to get her a drink. It seemed as if she couldn't keep anything down. Carla was exhausted and slowly becoming drowsy and dehydrated. She was stood by the sink, having just brushed her teeth and splashed her face with cold water to freshen herself up, and in an attempt to make herself feel a little better.
"I know." She sighed, sick and tired of feeling so unwell.
"Here." He told her, handing her the glass of water that he had fetched from downstairs.
"Thank you." She mumbled, before taking a sip of the cool liquid.
"Can I get you anything else?" He asked her.
"Stop fussing." She glared, before her face softened. "Sorry." She apologised, still drowsy, but feeling bad for snapping. Carla knew that he was only trying to help and the situation wasn't entirely his fault.
He placed a soft and reassuring hand on the small of her back, as looked in the mirror. Her face pale, and her face sunken. The person staring back at her looked not just unwell, but rather unhealthy.
"I love you so much." He reminded her, gently rubbing her back comfortingly.
"I know." She smiled weakly. Peter then lead them back to their bedroom, with Carla sitting on the edge of their bed. Peter joined her, allowing her to fold into him. The couple savoured the moment. They hadn't had much quality time to themselves in the last week or so and digesting the news and discussing what to do had taken up the majority of any spare time they had together.
"You have to promise me something." She told him in almost a whisper.
"What's that?" He asked, a little confused as to where the conversation was going.
"You won't fall off the wagon." She looked right into his eyes as she said it, making sure that he was taking her seriously.
"Of course not." He chuckled, the topic having seemed to come out of nowhere.
"Seriously." She warned. "If we do this, that's it. Our last chance, our only proper chance." She added, as Peter smiled softly. She had come round to the idea of having the baby!
In his heart, he knew that she wouldn't have wanted to end the pregnancy - she just needed time. "I can't do it on my own, especially because there's no one else around anymore." She continued, indirectly confessing all of her worries to him.
"You never know, once we tell them about the baby, your family might change their minds." He suggested optimistically, hoping to improve her outlook slightly. He didn't want her to worry as much as she was already doing, because that certainly wasn't helping anything.
"What, and suddenly decide I'm not a murderer?" She asked him rhetorically, with nothing but pure sarcasm in her voice. As much as she wanted to believe him, she knew it would never be that easy.
"You know what I mean." He sighed.
"I don't want them to know, not yet anyway. I want to get a bit further along at least, give it a fighting chance..." she trailed off, as Peter took hold of her hand.
"Ok." He agreed. He internally resigned himself to doing everything Carla's way. She was so apprehensive. The thought of her being so consumed by fear broke his heart, especially as he believed it to be all his fault. He looked into her eyes, capturing her line of sight. "I'm going to be here for you, properly this time, I promise." He assured her. "It's going to be different." He continued, smoothing his thumb over her knuckles. "I know that it's easy for me to say that - but I mean it." He concluded.
"I know." She smiled. "I love you." Carla added, a glint in her eye for the first time in a while.
"I love you more." He promised. Both of them internally hoping that this was going to bring a fresh start. A fresh start that would be the catalyst for a brighter future. But with the Connor's still not speaking to the pair, and the street having turned their backs, would they just be kidding themselves when thinking it was going to be an easy ride?