Chapter Sixteen
Pregnant.
No, she was not pregnant…she could not be.
It just didn't make sense. She was on the pill. She couldn't just get pregnant when she was on the pill…there were so many things that she just did not understand. Not then.
What she did understand was that she was not ready, that Robert was not either, that neither of them had planned for this or was ready for this.
It was crazy…they had been together for what? Less than a year. This was ridiculous. No matter how comfortable they felt with their relationship, no matter how in love…this was not in the cards, not just yet.
Hell, over a month ago, Robert could not even say the words I love you, without getting all red around the collar and looking like he's half hyperventilating, half constipated (which might be an exaggeration on her part, but the point was less than two months ago, they had not even said those words—and now she's pregnant).
But two pregnancy tests could not possibly lie and neither could the signs.
She should have known—but it wasn't like she knew what signs to look out for. She wasn't exactly planning on being pregnant, and she'd been on the pill, on the fucking pill for Christ's sake, how was she to know?
She hadn't really thought of it—of being pregnant. Well, that was a lie, she had, and then she'd thought she'd never have it, because life and circumstances had made her believe that it wasn't for her, and she believed that, until Robert came along and woke in her the dreams and desire of a family, of marriage and kids—and well, she had not thought it was going to be this soon.
She didn't know what to think, or feel, or say at the moment.
It felt like her heart had fallen at the pit of her stomach—she should be happy, and a part of her is, of course. This was a product of her love with Robert, of course she's happy, but it was just such a wrong timing. Well, not really, wrong timing seemed so strong—it was just that she was not ready for it.
And if she's not ready then she'd bet everything she owned that neither was Robert, that he would be twice as unprepared as she was. But then, what should she do? What could she do? The baby was there now, inside her, and…and, it was her baby, hers and Robert, and no matter how unprepared she was, she was going to keep it. It was a blessing, even if she was finding it a little difficult to see it like that yet, to see it as anything other than such an unwelcomed (though not totally unpleasant) surprise.
It was her baby, hers and Robert, and now all she needed to do was to let Robert know that.
But how?
She sighed—she didn't get that part all figured out just yet.
…
Robert groaned in his sleep, as the first vestiges of waking up grappled him quite aggressively. The sun was not yet up, and when he turned to his side to look at the time, grunting as he did, the numbers said it was barely four in the morning. He wasn't entirely sure what woke him, or why he should he be awake at such an ungodly hour, so he decided that sleeping again was his best bet—except when he turned back and reached out to pull his girlfriend tight into his embrace, he was surprised to find only emptiness on the other side.
Groaning, he reached up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before turning again to try and find her in the poorly lit room. She was nowhere to be found, and though he knew his girlfriend to have bouts of insomnia from time to time, he'd usually find her by the balcony, reading something off her Ipad, or trying in vain to read a book or an article in the balcony despite the poor lighting. But tonight, she was nowhere in sight, and try as he might not to worry, worry he did. Slowly, he unwrapped himself from the covers and climbed out of bed. He checked the bathroom, for good measure, she could be there; after all she seemed to be doing the past few days was throw her guts up—but she was not there either. So he walked out of their unofficial bedroom and padded down the hall and to the first floor. He found the light on the kitchen on, and knew that she'd be there—not any of their house helpers, everyone but her would be asleep by now.
He tiptoed his way to the kitchen as silently as he could, trying not to startle her. She was sitting on the table, a faraway look on her face and a mug full of tea in front of her. It seemed that she'd brewed it a long while ago and had sat there, forgetting to drink it, because it now looked cold—meaning she had been there for some time. He stopped at the entrance of the dining area for a moment just to take her in, for he loved her this way—with her short hair up in a bun, or as much bun as she could make out of it, her glasses placed neatly and resting on the bridge of her little nose, wearing his shirt and no makeup on. She was the prettiest when she was simply her, simply Cora, with no masks or armour on, and he could see her soulful blue eyes in all their wide, beautiful, deep glory.
He simply loved her—something he didn't think he'd ever feel ever again for anyone after Adeline had broken his heart. But now Cora had made it all better, fixed it up and made it whole again so he could offer it to her without worries or fears.
Well fear was there—he'd be honest—fear that he might take her heart and break it, unknowingly or not, and that was just something he could not fathom.
His chain of thoughts broke when he heard her speak, and it was only then that he'd realized that she'd been looking at him for quite some time, and had been looking at him with puzzlement.
"Hey," he said softly.
"Hi," she greeted back, before she dropped her gaze to the untouched mug of tea. He eyebrows knitted, as if she was surprised she'd made it. "What are you doing up?"
He could ask her the same, actually.
"I woke up and you weren't there," he told her honestly as he walked towards her and took a seat beside her on their dining table. He took her hand and placed a soft kiss to her palms. There was a look that crossed her face—something he could not quite decipher—and she sighed. "Something's troubling you?"
She sighed again, "Nope," she answered with a shrug, lacing their fingers together and giving him a tight smile. "Nothing's troubling me."
He shook his head. "I know you better than that. I heard that sigh and saw that smile, try again. What's wrong?" he asked.
She smiled softly, and though it was still somewhat tight, at least it didn't look more like a grimace. "Nothing, really. I'm just tired. And stressed. I keep dreaming I'll fail the exam or be late to it and not be able to take it. Finals make me all sorts of anxious."
Well he could not really blame her for it.
The finals week was really taking too much out of her that most days he wondered how she could do it all—it's not just the workload, he's been to Uni too and he knew how far caffeine and energy drinks went, but it was everything. She was such an active woman, even with thousands of miles between them, Cora still helped her family out in their business in the littlest ways that she could—even if it was just going over some deals before her father could sign them, and then there was her gigs at the bar. Yes, she'd lessened the hours of her work there, but she still tried to make it for her band mates, and he loved her for it, for her dedication and her loyalty, but it honestly just took everything out of her to have so many things on her plate at the same time.
"I know you too," she said with a smirk, "And I know that look. I'm fine, Robert. I can handle everything, but I'm human and I get tired sometimes, doesn't mean I'm weak that I can't handle it."
"I didn't say you are weak, love," he defended himself, squeezing her hands lightly, letting her know that he didn't mean it that way. "I never said that and could never think that—you're the strongest woman I know. Not as scary as my own mother, but definitely stronger."
She laughed, and it warmed his heart that he could make her laugh like that despite anything that was clearly troubling her.
"I love you," he said, smiling.
She stopped laughing but her eyes continued to twinkle. "I love you too."
And with the way she looked at him, he knew there was nothing she meant more.
…
It was a few days later that Cora was even able to talk about her…well, pregnancy. It seemed like some sort of secret (she supposed it was and it was until she was ready to tell Robert, anyway), some sort of thing she ignored for now and it felt like talking about it made it more real than it already was.
"So what are you afraid of?" Phyllis asked her as they sat on the table for lunch (which she was sure to just throw back up, but she needed to have for the sake of her unborn child—god that sounded so terrifying).
She looked at Phyllis wide eyes and surprised, like what Phyllis asked was so unbelievable. It was: unbelievably stupid, that was. "What am I afraid of?" she repeated incredulously. She shook her head and fought the urge to laugh and cry hysterically at the same time. God, she wanted the ground swallow her whole. "What is not there to be scared of?"
She wanted to pace, wanted to scream, wanted to throw things, but she could not do any of those lest she caused a scene, and that was the last thing she wanted at that moment.
"Literally everything about this situation is terrifying. I'm pregnant, Phyllis. There is a child growing inside of me, and I have no idea how to tell my boyfriend who got me in this situation-granted he did have my help, but still—we haven't been together long. It's been what? Five, seven months—god I don't even know anymore," she said in a harsh whisper and she looked away. When she continued, her voice was soft, dejected, "All I know is I'm not ready for this, neither is Robert…but…"
"But what?" Phyllis asked.
"But it's my child and despite everything that it might complicate, it's still my child. Mine and Robert's. And I love it with all my heart, and I want it, I want it so much—which scares the most, because what if I couldn't keep it? What if I'm not good enough, what if I never become ready?"
Phyllis sighed and rubbed her back. "You can never be ready for it," she said, and well that was such a relief, wasn't it? "But you can always prepare for it. And you have at least 6 months to prepare."
Six months were not enough, it could never be enough. God, a lifetime could not be enough to make her a mother.
"I don't know," she whispered. She feels helpless, hopeless even, because what is she to do now?
"Well, what do you want to do?" Phyllis asked, looking her straight in the eyes. "Because regardless of what your decision is, you still need to let Robert know. As you said, it's his child too. So whatever you might end up doing, he needs to know."
Well, she knew that, wasn't that why she was freaking out in the first place? Because she knew she had to tell him one way or the other, and sooner rather than later—because when was she ever going to tell him? When she was almost popping?
That would not be fair, or doable.
He would have to know, and she would have to tell him, sooner or later. She just didn't know how to.
She knew that one day would come and she would absolutely have to, but for now, she'd just have to live through life day by day and figure out how she could tell him. Until then, she'd have to be careful and maybe keep her distance.
Just until she'd figured it out, just until she knew how long that would be…
…
Robert felt some sort of freezing, like a chilling that he wished he could warm with a heater or a steady fire burning by the hearth. But the iciness was not the kind to be easily thawed or melted, not when it was an emotional kind, between him and Cora.
She'd been very distant lately-belaying the statement that night a couple of weeks ago when she said nothing was wrong. It seemed that right now, a lot of things were wrong.
He tried to think of a reason, of something he might have said or done to have tipped her off, something that might have offended or hurt her in anyway, but he came up zilch. They hadn't been speaking to each other a lot lately or interacting a lot lately for him to have done or said something. She would always find ways and reasons to not spend time with him. And he tried to understand, he really did, because he knew how busy she was, how full her plate was and how many things she has going on. He knew that she was always tired and almost sickly, though she'd brush it off to just exhaustion—typical her. He understood that she had responsibilities and there were a lot of things going on in her life, and that though he was a part of her life, he wasn't all she had, and that there were other things that needed her attention. So he understood, he really did, but sometimes it was hard not to feel just a tad bit neglected.
He would never complain, no of course not, would never pressure her in any way, but…he missed her.
He missed her a lot.
And not just the physical intimacy or her body, though they had been lacking in that department lately, too, but he missed her, all of her—laughing with her while they watched some show on the telly, having her head on his lap while she read her notes and he read documents. He missed spending time with her, even with silence and nothing to do. He missed that intimacy they had together. He missed being able to just relax with her and know that it was comfortable for both of them to just share the quiet. He missed everything about her. Lately, it seemed as though she was physically present but mentally and emotionally absent. He was not sure if it was just him, if he was just over reacting, if maybe she really was just busy and he'd been only making mountains out of mole hills. He'd kept mum about his worries all this time, trying to be understanding, knowing it was what she needed most right now, but he couldn't help it.
He could not help but fear it might all come back to bite him in the ass someday.
..
It was a few days later that Rosamund came swanning in his office, looking rather pleased with herself. She was glowing, probably an after affect of the mini vacation she'd taken with her husband—that Robert had begrudgingly allowed (not that he didn't want Ros to spend time with her husband, it was just that he was not allowed such luxury, not on days like these).
She'd given him a smile that looked like the cat that ate the canary, but Robert did not want to read much into it, in case it was something that he definitely did not want to know about. She took a seat in front of his desk and placed her hands primly atop the surface.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Robert asked, raising his head from where he'd buried it to the document he'd been reading.
"Hello to you, too, dear brother," Ros said with a blinding smile, making Robert raise an eyebrow. She shook her head. "I'm here to discuss the Quarterly Company Review dinner."
Ah, that. Another flimsy excuse for the executives of the company to have a stately dinner and get drunk. Well.
"What of it?" Robert asked. "Shouldn't you be on top of that? I've overseen the reviews and reports and approved it."
"Well, I wanted to run the plans by you," she answered with a sigh, seeing the look on his face. There had not been a change in his reaction about this every quarter. Honestly, he didn't know why his sister still bothered. "I don't know why I bother."
Apparently, they shared the same thought.
"I don't, either," Robert said, mirroring her sigh. "I trust you to have a good taste." That should appease her. And it did, as she rolled her eyes while a smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
"Alright," she said, standing up. She got up and started to make her way to the door, but paused. "Make sure to remind Cora," she'd added, and he'd nodded, watching her go.
…
Cora wanted to go with him.
She wanted to spend the night with him and his friends and family. She wanted to stand there and converse with his colleagues and get to know them better. Granted, she was still scared of Violet, and she knew she'd be there, but at least they were a little bit more cordial. Cora reckoned that attending this quarterly review dinner that Robert talked about would be like making baby steps on making Violet accept her more.
And hopefully, it would go over well with her when they could finally make the announcement that they're to have a baby. That was, if she ever told Robin-at this rate, that would be when the baby was born.
She wanted to go with him, but she couldn't. Not when she was feeling as shitty as she was. She could barely keep anything down that day and her throat felt like sandpaper, her nose was clogged and twice its size.
"Are you sure you'll be fine by yourself?" Robert asked as he made his way to their bed, his toothbrush in one hand and the toothpaste in the other. He was wearing nothing but his pants, and Cora had to tell herself not to drool at the sight of her boyfriend's naked chest.
Apparently, her pregnancy affected her hormones in a different way. Well, those hormones anyway.
"Of course, Robert," she assured him for what seemed like the fifth time in the last twenty minutes. She rolled her eyes and sighed from where she was sitting on the bed, pretending to read to convince him that her head was not about to explode-which she felt like it was. "I'm fine. I'm not feeling well enough to attend the party, but I'm sure I can manage being alone for a few hours."
"Maybe I should just stay home," he said, as if he had not heard a word he said.
Cora threw the book she was holding on her nightstand and climbed out of bed. She tried not to show how precarious her balance was, and how her world felt like it tilted on its axis. She walked to where Robert was and wrapped her arms around him. "Babe, I'm fine. There is totally no need for you to not attend the party. I just don't think I can handle being in a tight dress and surrounded by a lot of people right now. I'm not exactly feeling well enough to party. But a quiet night alone, I can handle. I don't need a babysitter."
"I know you don't," he told her, but Cora was not that convinced. He shrugged. "Fine, fine. I'll go." He pouted. "But I won't enjoy myself."
Cora rolled her eyes and pushed him slightly. "Yes you will," she told him. "Now stop being a baby and get your sexy ass in the bathroom."
He didn't argue anymore but he smirked at him and waggled his eyebrows. "You think my ass is sexy." It was not a question but a statement.
Cora laughed. "Super sexy," she teased, going back to the bed and pretending that whatever she was reading was interesting.
A few minutes later, Robert walked out of the bathroom and headed to their closet. When he emerged, he was fully dressed and looking like nobility.
Maybe in their past life Robert had been a lord or something. It would definitely fit him, she mused as she watched him put on his shoes. Once he was done, he looked up to find her watching him and he smiled, crawling from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed to where she was sitting, her back resting against the headboard.
"I love you," he whispered against her lips before taking them in a soft kiss.
When they pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers and she nuzzled his nose, smiling. "I love you too," she told him. "Have fun at the party."
He pulled away and shrugged. "I doubt it," he told her flatly. "But I shall try." He climbed out of bed and straightened his suit. "Don't have too much fun without me."
She laughed and shook her head. "Never, sexy," she said, laughing harder when he winked at her before walking out of their bedroom.
Damn, she really did think his ass was sexy.
…
The party was in full swing, and though Robert felt mildly disappointed at Cora not being able to attend, he still managed to enjoy himself. After all, his best mates were there and he knew that as much as he wanted to, he and Cora could not be attached at the hips. They both were adults who had things to do, separate and together. While he would genuinely enjoy watching his girlfriend glow as she socialized and talked to people with that disarming smile, he reckoned he would be able to enjoy himself as well, even without her.
That was negotiable, he thought, as he surveyed the surroundings. Everyone was having fun that even his mother was chattering up to Mrs. Kingston, a glass of champagne in hand, and wonders of wonders, there was a soft smile on her face. Cora would definitely get a kick out of that one. Rosamund was hanging on to every word Claire Dupont was saying as if the woman's word was the gospel. Perhaps, for Rosamund it was, since Ros was crazy with fashion, and Claire Dupont worked for Vogue which was-according to Cora-Rosamund's bible.
Everyone was having a good time, and so should he, too-so was he.
"Cora's not with you?" John asked him as he handed the glass of scotch he'd promised before he'd gone and disappeared to talk with some investors just as Robert was about to greet him hello.
Robert shook his head and took the offered drink before taking a swift gulp. "Not tonight," he answered with a shrug. "She hasn't been feeling well lately, and she's sick again when I left so she said it was best for her to just stay home." He took another sip and sighed. "I'd have tied her to the bed if she'd insisted on going, with her condition."
John shook his head, "I reckon you'd tie her to the bed anyway," he remarked and it did not escape Robert's notice that it was of a different meaning than he'd intended, so he'd rolled his eyes and shook his head. It's boy talk, locker room talk even, and he's used to that, used to rib his mates about it too, but he'd felt uncomfortable just now. John, always attuned to shifts in his moods, looked contrite and then said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect."
Robert nodded then, knowing full well that John had no ill-intentions, he simply didn't like Cora being objectified by anyone. She was much more than just an arm candy to him. "It's fine," he said, though it was not. "Just, let's not talk about her that way." A nod from John and Robert tried to let it go.
"Have you urged her to go to the doctor's?" John asked, changing the topic and bringing it back to the safer waters. Neither one of them wanted a brawl, but both of them knew Robert would fight him to defend his girlfriend's honour.
Robert nodded. "I have, many, many times. I've done everything short of dragging her there because I do not want her to feel like she's a child-she is not, but she is definitely acting like one. She flat out refuses to go to the hospital. She just keeps saying she's fine, that she's just caught some bug and she'll be fine. It's been weeks and she's not fine." Much more than frustration with his girlfriend's stubborn nature, he was concerned to the point of fear that something very bad was wrong with her and she was being very nonchalant about it.
"Maybe you should bring the doctor to her then," John suggested as he took a sip of his brandy as well.
Robert took his words in with silence, seriously contemplating it. If he could not bring Cora to the Doctor, then maybe it is time to bring the doctor to her.
...
Cora was miserable.
She felt miserable and alone, and more than anything she regretted insisting that Robert go on to the party without her. It made sense at the time. It was a party for his company with all of his friends and colleagues in attendance. Even his parents would probably make an appearance to the party, it was their quarterly company review after all and everyone of the executives and stockholders would be in attendance, so it didn't make sense that the man running it would not be there.
But ugh, she wished she hadn't insisted that he attended, and that she had not listened to logic, because logic sucked.
There was nothing to do, though, other than suck it up and live with it, because she'd made the decision already and Robert had gone to the party while she was sat there in their house, looking forlornly at the TV as Gilmore Girl reruns played. She was wrapped in the thickest wool blanket she could find and there were tissues everywhere. She also made sure to put a bucket within reach for good measure. She, apparently, had lost all control of her gag reflex and now she puked anywhere and everywhere. She wondered who coined the term morning sickness-they must be some lucky woman, because based on experience, the term morning sickness was not at all apt, and all day sickness seemed to be better suited.
She knew the stress of having to tell Robert the truth added to the burden that was her pregnancy (it was a beautiful thing to pregnant with the child she'd created with the man she loved, but it was difficult and a burden at times), and she'd been warned a billion times by Phyllis that it was not good for her and the baby. But it was hard not to stress, it was hard not to think and over think.
Of course, it's been a long time since she'd realized that she never would truly know how Robert would react if she never told him, and in the end she'd really have to tell him because she wouldn't be able to hide the bump or the baby when they came, but it was hard. It was difficult to have to face the reality-what if he didn't want it? They'd never talked about kids, or settling down together, and why should they? They weren't together very long. And no matter how much they loved each other a baby was too big a responsibility for them.
She was repeating herself. She sounded like a broken record even to her own head
Lost in thought, she jumped when she heard the shrill ringing of her phone. It vibrated against the wooden table loudly, cutting through the silence (barring the soft sound of the Telly as it played on the background), and she'd had to compose herself before she picked it up and answered the call. She didn't even bother look at the ID.
"Hello?" she said through the receiver. She reached for the remote and turned the TV off completely. It was useless to keep it on, she wasn't paying attention anyway.
"Cora?" she heard from the other line and she had to smile, touched.
"Robert," she answered softly. She frowned suddenly, alarmed that he should be calling her at a time that he was supposed to be enjoying himself. "Is there something wrong? How's the party going?"
Robert sighed. "Nothing's wrong," he said, though he didn't sound at all convincing. "I just miss you is all."
Needy and Robert didn't really go well together, except when it was needy and sick Robert.
"I miss you too, babe," she told him honestly. They could be cuddled up in the couch eating ice cream off of each other's lips rather than apart and lonely. "Are you enjoying yourself?"
Another sigh, and Cora was seriously wondering what they'd fed him in that party for him to be so forlorn. "I should be," he told her honestly. And he's right: he should be, except it didn't sound at all like that. "But I find myself lonelier than I have ever been surrounded by all these people."
It was a sweet sentiment, for him to say that he was lonely without her, and while she strictly did not believe in tethering one's happiness on only one thing or person, this felt different. This was not him tying all of his happiness to her, or vise versa, this was them knowing that there was no place like home, and home was with each other.
A tear fell down her eye and she sniffled, concealing it with a sigh.
"Are you okay?" Robert asked, sounding worried.
"I'm fine," she said, and she was, except for the fact that their kid was making her throw up every food she'd ever eaten this day, she was fine. Emotional, hormonal, but fine. "I know what you feel. The couch is way too big without you."
She could almost hear him smile. "I want to come home now Cora," he whispered, and though she should insist that he stayed, she couldn't find it in herself to do that, could not find the words to tell him no, because that was not what she wanted. What she wanted was for Robert to come home.
"Okay," she said. "Come home to me, Robert."
Come home to us, she thought.
...
He was coming home. He didn't care that this was supposed to be his party or that he's the one supposedly throwing it. His sister could hold the fort while he's gone. His girlfriend was sick and rather than spend the night drinking booze, he wanted to curl up next to her and spoon her as they fell asleep. He wanted to make sure she was better.
He made his way to where Rosamund was standing, having a chat with their mother.
He'd never hear the end of it from Violet if he left, that's for sure, but really, he's past the point of caring.
"Hey Ros," he greeted his sister, leaning down to place a kiss on her cheek, and then doing the same to Mama who was looking at him with a quirked eyebrow. "What is it?" he asked, almost self consciously as he looked down to check if he had any stains on his white shirt.
"You might have gone and told me that we were to dine in our pyjamas," Violet commented, turning up her nose at his choice of attire that night. He was wearing a white button down and had gone without a tie, which Cora had approved of, telling him it still looked formal enough but at least it was less stiff than a three-piece suit. Violet, clearly, was not pleased.
Robert shrugged. "It's 2017," he said and then turned to Rosamund. "Would you be fine holding the fort for tonight?" There was nothing much left for him to do, he'd given his opening speech and had stayed long enough to pass as mingling.
"Where are you going?" Ros asked, though it was obvious she knew where he was going.
"Home," he answered anyway, just because he liked to say it. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he had a home, that he has a home.
"Isn't it a little too early to duck out?" it was Violet who asked this, and it was no surprise, because she was right-it was a little too early. If she and Papa were still at the party, then it was early.
"I've done my obligations," he said though, which was in part true. He had done everything he needed to do. "Now I have to go do my obligations at home."
Violet answered with a raise of her eyebrow.
Robert sighed. "Cora is sick," he explained, though he didn't really feel like he should have to. He was a fully grown adult, and if he wanted to, then he could damn well leave as he pleased. "I want to be home with her."
Rosamund smiled and patted his shoulder, nodding. Violet looked as though she had way too many things she wanted to say but instead kept her mouth shut, pursing her lips in what seemed like a physical attempt to hold her words in.
Robert. who could not overlook a gift horse in the mouth, smiled and bid her sister and mother goodbye, kissing their cheeks before walking away. He made a quick detour to Bates, just for good measure, and asked him to oversee the party. Rosamund would be doing most of the overlooking, but just in case, he'd told his friend-to which John agreed, promising to keep the investors entertained or answer any questions business related in Robert's stead. Robert also bid his father goodbye, who had not said a word, but nodded anyway when Robert excused himself from the party, citing a migraine that was just killing him.
Breathing deeply, Robert was absolutely relieved when he made it out the door of the stuffy ballroom. It was cold, but it was a welcome reprieve from the stiffness of the room. He tried to fetch his phone from deep within his pocket to send Cora a text that he was about to come home and that she should move to the bedroom if she was still feeling poorly.
"Robert," he heard from behind him before he could even unlock his phone.
He turned around and almost rolled his eyes at what greeted his eyes. "I really don't have time for this," he said coldly. His tone rivalled the coldness of the night.
"Where's your arm candy? She's inconspicuously absent at such a big event. Trouble in paradise?" It was a rhetorical question that held so much malice Robert almost suffocated from it.
"It's none of your business, Adeline," he said, rolling his eyes. "What are you even doing here?"
Adeline walked closer and smiled like the predator that she was. "Whatever happened to Addie?" she said, sickly sweet. "I miss you calling me Addie."
"I'm not playing this game with you," Robert said, ready to turn around. "Stay away from me."
Adeline grabbed his elbow, making him turn back. He pulled his arm away roughly. There was not a fiber in his being that wanted to be here-standing in front of this woman, at all.
"I can't do that, darling," she said. "Well, not that I have much of a choice. You see, my husband is an investor to your company, and I reckon, there will many, many times we would be around each other."
Of bloody course.
"What do you want, Adeline?" Robert asked point blank, because they both knew that this was not at all a social call. They were not friends.
There was silence, before Adeline looked at him. Sincerity poured out of her eyes, and Robert-if he hadn't known better-would have fallen into that very same trap he had before.
"I wanted to apologize," she said, sounding sincere. Well, that's new. Adeline never apologized for anything, ever. Robert said nothing, then she continued: "I wanted to apologize for what I've done to you, before-for hurting you. I was...I was stupid and foolish and thought only of myself."
It was hard to believe anything this woman ever said, but that one he believed. She was stupid and foolish and selfish.
"I had my reasons for wanting to end of our relationship," she explained. "But I didn't go about it the right way. I could have just told you or done it in a way that didn't hurt you the way I had, and for that I'm sorry."
"Why are you doing this now?" Robert asked, not only surprised but also very, very suspicious.
"Because I've grown up and realized some things," she said, and Robert could relate. It didn't mean he could trust her, though. "I want us to be friends." Robert scoffed at that. "Or civil, at the very least. If you and my husband will be working with each other, then I don't want there to be any bad blood between us anymore."
Robert thought that there was only bad blood between them and nothing more, but he didn't say anything. He only shook his head and turned away. This time, Adeline didn't try and stop him-at least not physically.
Her, "For what it's worth, I did love you," had him pausing though. It was incredible. Just incredible.
Incredulous, he only managed to shake his head before walking away, leaving that behind him.
Right now, all he wanted was to go home: home to Cora.
...
By the time Robert arrived home, Cora had been between the state of being asleep and awake. She was so tired, pregnancy was such exhausting business. She'd had no energy at all to move to the bed so she was still lying down on the couch when Robert got in. She felt him carry her to bed after a placing a soft kiss on her forehead, and she smiled, snuggling deeper into his embrace.
She only stirred once he deposited her into their bed.
"Hi," she croaked, her voice gravelly and her throat feeling like it was on fire.
"Hey," he whispered, walking over from where he was standing by the vanity, shedding his clothes off, to where she was lying. He hovered above the bed and looked down at her with a soft gaze. "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit," she told him honestly, chuckling. She did feel like hell. "But better than I did the past few days. And I even managed to keep my dinner."
He smiled sadly. "You really need to go to the doctor," he told her, and she knew that, had heard him beg her a few dozen times. She would, too, she had to, she just needed the energy...well, and courage.
"I will, I promise," she told him for the umpteenth time. She smiled lazily. "How was the party?"
"Boring," he said, accepting her gifted change of subject. "I..." he trailed off and then went silent, turning away from her to take the rest of his clothes off, leaving his boxers on.
"You?" she asked, worried about that very long pause.
"Nothing," he said then, climbing up the bed and pulling her into his arms, letting her curl up into his chest. "I didn't have fun, not much anyway. I kept thinking about you and how you were."
Cora was touched, though she worried about him too. He was too concerned about her and it killed her that because she was a coward, she was unintentionally bringing him down too.
"I'm fine," she told him, reaching up to place a kiss on his cheek. "Tired like usual, but I'm better."
"I just worry," he said and she knew that. He had not lacked in reminding her. He drew her closer into his arms and played with the strands of her hair.
She sighed, melting further into his embrace. She could tell him now, she could just blurt it out and let him deal with it. But then, would that really be fair? To let him just deal with the consequences. Granted, she'd be the one to give birth and all that, but did she really have the heart to just let him sink and swim into the situation on his own, and then just come up to him when she had more energy and courage to deal with his reaction?
No, she did not. She could not do that to him. She loved him too much. She was scared, true, and it was selfish of her to keep it to herself until she was strong enough to deal with whatever reaction he might have-she was so scared that he didn't want it, that he'd be too surprised and run away from the responsibility, and she felt so terrible that she felt this way, but she needed more time to build that courage, to prepare herself to whatever reaction this news might get.
"I know you do," she whispered softly. "And I understand, I worry too. I just haven't had the energy to go to the doctor yet." That was not a lie, at least. She wasn't telling him she already knew what was happening to her, but that was more of an omission than just straight up lying, which was lesser of the two evils, wasn't it?
"I know you do," she whispered softly. "And I understand, I worry too. I just haven't had the energy to go to the doctor yet." That was not a lie, at least. She wasn't telling him she already knew what was happening to her, but that was more of an omission than just straight up lying, which was lesser of the two evils, wasn't it? Besides, she really was too tired to go to the doctor.
"Do you need me to go with you?" he asked, and yes, yes of course she needed him but not until she told him. She couldn't let him know in any other way than her telling him-but then, how was that ever going to happen if she never got on with telling him.
"Yeah," she told him in a soft, winded breath. "Yeah, I'd like that. But let me set it up first."
Ie., let her find her courage first.
"Alright," he acquiesced, placing a soft kiss against her shoulder. "But if you don't have an appointment this week, I'll drag you there myself." She sighed. "Even if it meant throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you there."
Somehow she believed he would.
..
It was a few days later that Cora stood in front of the door of her doctor, feeling nervous as heck and fidgeting. She'd called to set an appointment and she'd been greeted by a polite nurse named Ivy who asked her to take a seat and that she'd call Cora once the doctor was ready to see her.
It took about twenty minutes, the longest twenty minutes of her life, for her to see the doctor, and she'd been standing there in front of the door for another five (it was barely a minute, she was sure, but it felt like five). Sighing, she told herself to grow up. She was going to be a mother, she should be able to face this much, at least.
With trembling hands, she reached for the knob and opened the door, a sigh of relief escaping her lips when she found that her doctor was not even in the room yet. She crossed the space from the door to the desk and took a seat gently, almost afraid that even the slightest ruckus would break the precarious peace and calm she'd found within herself. As she stood, it was barely there.
Taking a deep breath, she thought it was less than a minute when the doorknob jiggled and in came a tall man, with a balding spot atop his head. He smiled at her politely, and Cora smiled back, though she worried it might have come more as a grimace.
"Nervous?" the doctor chuckled, blissfully unawares of the turmoil inside Cora.
"Just a bit," she answered with shaky laughter, as she breathed out and told herself for probably the fiftieth time that day that everything was fine.
"First time then?" he asked as he took the seat behind the desk. Cora nodded slowly. "Well, nothing to be afraid of dear. Everything will be fine." He turned to the papers he'd been clutching as he entered, giving it a brief scan. "You must be Miss Levinson, my name is Dr. Philip Tassel." He extended his hand to her and she reached out to shake it.
After a few questions that Cora would categorize as nothing but formality, they went on to the nitty gritty. She was asked for the standard: pee in the cup and some blood tests, and was told that she would get the results quickly.
And she did, the results turning out to be positive when she got them.
Positive, not that there was any doubt about it, that she was pregnant.
…
Robert paced inside his home office, worried. Upon arriving home from the doctor's office, Cora had muttered a one word reply to his queries about how it went.
"Fine," she'd said before she went and shut herself inside the bedroom. It's been an hour now, but she'd not come out, and at one point he'd heard the bath running, so he'd decided to let her have some time alone and not disturb her.
She'd come to him when she was ready. That did not deter him, however, from being worried for her.
He stopped his pacing when the door of his creaked, and he turned around to see his girlfriend standing there, looking sheepish. She had red rimmed eyes, and she looked like someone had died, or something. He rushed to her side, but stopped short when she held her hand up.
"We need to talk," were the next words that slipped past her lips, and Robert felt panic rise in his chest.
He didn't think those words would lead to anything good.
Nodding, and trying to keep himself calm, he moved to the couch and took a seat. He patted the space next to him and was a bit disappointed when Cora shook her head.
"I don't think I'll be able to get the words out if I sit too close to you," she admitted, and Robert understood her. But he worried over it even more. Whatever she was about to tell him started to sound less appealing by the minute.
"Okay," he said, wording it out slowly, unsure, and waiting.
He watched her take a deep breath, her arms going to her waist and hugging herself, before she looked away from the floor where her eyes had been since she came in. She still wasn't looking at him, though.
"Cora darling, is something wrong?" he asked. "Are you unwell?"
She sighed, and shook her head. "No, I'm not," she said, "Not unwell."
Robert scratched the back of his head and waited, knowing by the looks of it, that this-whatever this was-was difficult for her.
"Robert," she murmured, then paused. Her voice was quivering when she next spoke: "I'm pregnant."
…
She didn't really know why she felt so heavy upon her return from her doctor's appointment. She'd already known she was pregnant, but somehow having the confirmation from the doctor made it all the more difficult. Probably, she'd been playing the pregnant version of the childish game of "if I can't see it, it can't be true" with herself. And now, well, she could no longer pretend that she wasn't pregnant, or deny that she was, because she'd seen the ultrasound, had the picture of the baby growing inside of her in her purse.
She'd been so lost in her own emotions that when she'd made it home, she'd breezed through Robert, and had muttered fine to whatever question he'd just asked. She reckoned it was about her doctor's appointment, but she didn't really want to discuss that, not just yet.
She went straight to their bedroom and shut the door, before falling onto the floor, sobbing. She was not entirely sure if it was the hormones, or the stress, or all of it, altogether, but she continued to cry until tears no longer fell. It was then that she decided to have a bath, to try and calm herself, to prepare to tell Robert.
The house was silent when she finally emerged, but she could hear distinct sound of walking back and forth. She located the sound in Robert's study, and no doubt, he'd been pacing. She proved herself right upon opening the door and found him walking up and down the expanse of his study, arms behind his back, deep in thought.
He turned when he heard the door open and he urged her to come in.
It was long and winding, but in the end, she managed to say it: "I'm pregnant." They were only two words, but they were the hardest two words to ever say.
"I'm sorry, what?" he said, and she'd expected this. Next, he'd be throwing her out.
"I'm pregnant," she repeated, and she heard the thundering of her heart in her ears, drowning everything else.
"But-," he stuttered, "how did you-"
She cut him off, uninterested in the next question she was sure will come out of his mouth.
"Stop right there." A frown formed on her lips and her eyebrows pinched.. "If you want to know how the reproductive organ works, then you might want to visit a hospital and offer a doctor some whiskey," she snapped at him. She took a deep, calming breath. "You know how."
"I know, I just-," he began, but then paused. He looked at her, and wait-was that accusation in his eyes? "I thought you were on the pill?"
She felt her heart sinking to the bottom of her stomach. It was going exactly how her worst nightmares had gone. She told herself not to jump into conclusions and tell him what she'd found out from the doctor. "Remember when I got sick?" He nodded. "I took antibiotics then. That, taken with pills makes the pills less effective, and I suppose, well I suppose I was fertile then when we-well you know." It seemed rather curious that she'd falter with words when she was carrying their child.
"How long have you known?" he asked after nodding and seemingly accepting her explanation.
At least he's not accusing her of entrapment, yet.
"A while," she said. "I've suspected, then took the test when I got sick all the time. I didn't confirm until today."
He looked mildly offended, though Cora felt so off-kilter that she wasn't so sure she was reading him correctly. "Why did you never tell me?" he asked, and he sounded hurt. "Didn't you trust me enough?"
She felt despair and anger nip their way through logic and she burst out: "Because of this!" She threw her hands up and started to pace. "Because I didn't know how you'd react, but somehow knew it would be like this! We never planned this, and now I'd gone and gotten myself pregnant and now, I don't know. I don't know what-,"
Before she could finish her rant, he took a hold of her wrist and pulled her to him. He kissed her softly to hush her, and then let go of her to embrace her, stunning her to complete silence.
"Cora, my love," he whispered against her ear, before pushing her back just enough so their eyes met, "first of all, I got you pregnant. You didn't do this on your own." Her eyes widened and she clamped her mouth shut. "I wish you'd have told me sooner, and I don't know how we're going to do this-be parents or something, but I'm not...I mean, yeah, I'm scared and unsure, and there are so many things…" He took a deep breath and in other situations, this might have been amusing to her. "What I'm saying is we're in this together."
He smiled at her and she felt relief wash over her like a wave.
She sighed, mouth opening as she finally trusted herself to speak. "You're pleased?" she asked, hating how small she sounded but needing that assurance all the same.
He nodded, kissing her again. "I'm pleased."
That was all she needed to hear.
..
The days that followed were relatively calmer. It seemed as though the baby felt the weight finally lifting from its mother's shoulders and it stopped making life more difficult. Of course, she would have greatly appreciated it if her child could have made her life simpler when she was still so stressed with how to tell Robert, but she was still thankful for small favours. At least she was able to keep her food down now, and other than the weird moments when she would feel nauseous, she was able to keep most of her food down. She was less sickly too, now that she was able to eat more, and if she'd say so herself, she looked more glowing, more human than she'd been the past few weeks.
Though, now she worried about how to tell Robert's family. And hers. Of course, she couldn't not tell her parents that they were about to have a grandchild...
"Penny for your thoughts, my love?" Robert asked as he slid into the space next to her on the couch, handing her the cup of tea he'd made for her. He was more attentive now than he ever was, and he was actually doing everything for her, waiting for her hand and foot, only short of wrapping her in satin and feathers.
She smiled up at him as she accepted the cup of tea, "Thank you," she told him before she took a sip. She placed it down on the table in front of her and snuggled into his arms, one hand falling into her abdomen. It was a cold Saturday afternoon, with the rain pelting softly against the surface, and they'd both chosen a quiet night in, cuddling in front of the television.
"It's not worth that much," she said. "Just thinking of what to tell your parents, and mine too, about the baby. I'm also thinking of when it would be appropriate to do so."
"Hmm," Robert hummed, lips falling onto her temple. He placed a whisper of a kiss against her lips and brushed her hair back. "Well, I can try and at least answer one of those queries."
"Yeah?" she asked, pulling back to look at him.
He nodded. "Maybe we can tell them next week? My parents at least," he suggested. She looked at him puzzled, wondering what was so important about next week that he should suggest it. He answered her question before she could ask it with: "On my dad's birthday."
"Oh," she murmured. She wondered if it would be like stealing his father's thunder, but Robert looked so eager, so pleased with his plan that she didn't have the heart to say no. "Well, okay if you think it best."
...
Patrick Crawley was a simple man, but his tastes of course, befitted his station. He liked cricket and most sports, although he had always abhorred basketball for some reason. He liked to attend the annual Regatta in his hometown and the Ascot. He also fancied cars, and basically, had everything he wanted in life.
Or needed in life, which made giving him a gift a task—which is also why Robert thought it would be very nice to spring the news of the baby on his birthday, knowing his father would be pleased. He was always a family man, despite how strict he was, and nothing mattered more to him than his family.
Of course, the fact that he and Cora were not yet married posed a problem, but then Robert planned to rectify that too. Soon.
What's left to worry about now was Violet, but then he reckoned his mother would just have to accept it, seeing as there was not much she could do about it.
Cora was pregnant. They were having a baby.
The thought was terrifying, if he was honest. He knew not a thing about being a father, and though he idolized his father very much and loved him, he doubted that it was the kind of father he wanted to be. Sure, their father loved him and Ros, and sure they always knew they mattered to him—still, Patrick Crawley had been very much invested in his work and making sure that their family lived in the lap of luxury to actually ever be there.
Robert remembered many school plays and recitals where there had always been a vacant seat next to his sister and his mother. His father made up to those in other ways, but still. That was not a disappointment that he wanted his children to go through.
His conflicting thoughts about his father scared Robert more about being a father himself. He didn't really know what kind of father he wanted to be...maybe he knew he didn't want to be like the one he had, but he was left with very little in the way of comparison, because well, he only had Patrick Crawley to look up to.
No matter, he thought, as he spied his girlfriend come out of the closet wearing a black dress that hugged her growing bust, making it look as delectable as ever, but fell away from underneath, making a swishy, flowy skirt, to hide the equally growing bump where their baby was. She smiled at him and he he smiled back, and he was comforted by the fact that, he was not alone in this, and Cora was there, and that they were in this together.
"Ready to go?" she asked him as she grabbed her purse from the bed.
He smiled back and stood up, holding out his bed. "As I'll ever be," he replied, before leading her out of the bedroom.
...
Patrick Crawley's birthday dinner was not very grand, at least, not like the parties that had been thrown in the estate that Cora had attended before. It was attended by only a very few: Violet, Ros and Duke, Robert and herself, and some relatives that Cora had met before. Not all of them, but a very few, like his nephew James and his wife Rebecca and their son Patrick (who was only barely a year old, looking so adorable in his sailor outfit). There was also another family there that Cora had never met: the McClare's. Robert said that Susan was actually his cousin from his mother's side, but that his mother and father very much prefer the company of Hugh (or Shrimpie as he was called), because he was a much jollier person that Susan, and also because they'd all grown up together before Shrimpie's parents decided to move to Scotland when they were teenagers.
Cora did think that Susan's disposition rivalled that of Violet's, and if it were a contest, Susan would definitely win, because at least, Violet did not whine.
But it had all been pleasant so far, and with the children brought up to bed (Susan and Shrimpie brought their 3 year old daughter, Abigail, along with them), the adults settled in the drawing room for a few drinks. It was not long before James and Rebecca had excused themselves, saying they had quite a drive home to look forward to in the morning—they were to visit Rebecca's parents since it had been so long since they'd made a journey up North.
Cora fidgeted in her seat, the knowing looks Violet had thrown her way since she kept declining drinks throwing her off. She knew that Violet knew and she had no idea how she was going to react. A part of her was scared that she wouldn't accept it, but then there was not much she could do about it—which was a part of the problem in its own way. Cora didn't want Violet to begrudgingly accept her child. She wanted Violet to be happy about it.
But then, maybe that was asking for too much.
"I'm afraid we're going to have to excuse ourselves," Shrimpie said while Susan continued to frown. They both stood up and stretched a little. "The travel has worn us out and we really need to rest." He smiled at them politely, before bidding everyone goodbye.
Susan kissed Violet and Patrick goodnight, but didn't do the same to her cousins, only bid them farewell and she was out of there before Shrimpie could follow. He threw them an apologetic look and then trailed after his wife, closing the door gently behind him.
"Susan is just so delightful," Rosamund complained with sarcasm dripping from her words. Robert laughed, but Violet glared at the both of them.
"Do not talk like that, Ros," the older Crawley chastised the younger woman who rolled her eyes. "And do not encourage her, Robert." He responded very much the same manner his sister did.
"But you agree with me," Rosamund said, smirking.
"I neither confirm nor deny," was all Violet said.
Rosamund chuckled just as Patrick stood up from his chair.
"I'm going to retire for the night as well as it's been quite a long day. Thank you for being here, children. I had the most pleasant evening, thank you, all of you," he said before looking over his wife. "Darling, won't you join me in bed?"
Violet smiled, something Cora found was a rarity, and stood up from her chair as well. Robert scrunched up his nose, and Rosamund vocalized what her brother was most probably thinking as well.
"Ew," she exclaimed, making her father chuckle and making Violet huff indignantly.
"Actually," Robert cut in before his parents could walk out of the room and Cora felt her heart thumping inside her chest. This was it. "I was hoping to talk to you all before we all retire for the night."
Violet then looked at Cora knowingly but said nothing, letting Robert continue.
"I just wanted to say that we, Cora and I," he began, looking at Cora and bolstering the little confidence that Cora had, "We're expecting." He paused and then smiled. "We're having a baby."
A pin could have dropped in the room and everyone would have heard it. The silence that followed the announcement made Cora anxious, and she bit down on her lip hard, almost drawing blood, anticipating their reaction.
"Well, I'll be damned," his father said, and it scared Cora at first, but her anxieties were washed away by the smile that was on his face. "Congratulations, son, I'm happy for you."
Cora shook her head. "You'd think you two would be adult enough to know the use of contraception," she said, addressing both Robert and her, making Cora's heart sink to her stomach. "But anyway, a child is always joyous news."
Well, she didn't expect that.
Cora turned to Rosamund who was sitting on the chair, looking shell shocked. That was not a reaction she expected from her either. It seemed as though Ros felt Cora's eyes on her and she turned, looking at the woman who was now bearing her brother's child.
Cora wondered what was on Rosamund's mind, and she longed for her friend to tell them honestly what it was.
"I uh," Ros stuttered, and Cora noticed the hand that rubbed soothingly up and down Ros's back which belonged to her husband who was looking at her with concern in his eyes. "Um, I'm happy for you."
It was hard to convince Cora that the sentiment was true but she held her tongue. Whatever it was, Ros would tell her.
"I think I'm going to head up to bed," Ros said, excusing herself before making a mad dash out the door. Duke murmured a soft "sorry, congratulations to the both of you", before he, too, was out the door, leaving all of the people inside the room worried.
..
Cora sat on a bench in the garden after breakfast (where Rosamund was conspicuously absent, she'd noted) the following day. She was lost in thought, her hand settling on her abdomen, and she sighed. The news of her pregnancy had been very much well received by Robert's family thus far. Well, except Rosamund that was. It wasn't like she threw a tantrum or cursed the child, but she didn't seem entirely too thrilled about the baby either.
"Can I sit with you?" Cora heard someone say and she looked up to find the subject of her thoughts looking down at her with a sad smile. Cora nodded and patted the seat next to her. It was kind of awkward as Cora didn't know what to say and Ros didn't seem know where to start. The silence was thick and heavy, but Rosamund cut through it with a soft, pleading, "I'm sorry."
Cora took Rosamund's hand in hers and looked deeply into her friend's eyes. "No need to apologize, Ros," she told her solemnly. "There's not really anything to apologize for. I just want to make sure you're okay." She breathed in deeply. "Not just with the pregnancy but also with yourself. I mean, are you alright?"
Rosamund nodded. "For the most part I am," she admitted. "And please don't get me wrong. I really am genuinely happy about the baby. I meant it when I said it. It just triggered something in me..."
"Oh?" Cora asked, mildly surprised. She hadn't known. She didn't know that Rosamund...
"I got pregnant before," Rosamund finally confessed. "Before Duke and I got married. We were engaged then, but I lost the baby two months into the pregnancy. Of course, it hurt, but we always thought that you know...we were young, we could always have kids."
Cora nodded, her hand squeezing Ros's in comfort.
"We have been trying since then," she continued. "And we'd visited a fertility doctor a few months after our wedding, and well, I was told that it would be difficult for me to get pregnant. Not impossible, of course, but not entirely probable either. If I ever get pregnant there is a bigger possibility of it ending in a miscarriage than of the foetus surviving." She sniffled as tears continued to fall from her eyes. She closed them for a while, breathing in deeply. Cora couldn't help but tear up from the pain of what she was hearing. Rosamund was like a sister to her. It was difficult to see her this way. "And if I ever carry full term, mine and the child's life would be endangered during labour that it's just too risky. I might never..."
Cora hushed her and pulled her into her arms, hugging Rosamund tight. She didn't need to hear anymore and Rosamund needed not continue any further when it was obviously torturing her so much. They sat there, tears flowing down their cheeks, holding onto each other.
"I'm so sorry, Ros," Cora murmured through her hiccups and tears.
Ros shook her head, "But you shouldn't be. I am really happy for you and cannot wait to meet my little niece or nephew." She tried to smile, and though it was still watery and sad, it was genuine and it warmed Cora's heart.
"And it would be so lucky to have you as its godmother," Cora said softly, smiling. She feared that it might backlash, that Rosamund might be offended by the sentiment after what she'd just spilled, but the smile that lit up her face erased those doubts.
Rosamund's eyes widened and she hugged Cora once more. "Are you certain?" she asked, unbelieving. Cora nodded, and fresh tears wet both their cheeks anew. "Oh, I'll be so honoured."
Cora felt lighter and she smiled wider, feeling as though, for once, everything will be just fine.