Chapter 22 - 5 Mos.
It's been about a week and I still haven't brought myself to read Harm's notebook. I carry it wherever I go, even opened the first page but get no further. I know I'm scared but I also know that he loves me. Do I really need to rifle through his personal thoughts? Maybe it's fair considering he's read through mine but, part of me thinks this is a test that I'll fail.
McCool hasn't touched on the matter and only asked questions based on my next topic of conversation: Sadik Fahd. It's still mostly classified and I opted to give the terrorist a false name: Ezra.
Speaking about the car explosion, the Missionaries shot in front of me and Clay's torture had me expressing emotions I tried to supress. The crying was inevitable. The memories were too but, I felt lighter than I had in months. What affected me most was the knife Sadik ran though my fake belly, the life of an unborn child he would sacrifice.
It's what I think about the most these days, the new ghost that keeps me awake at night and the reason I'd forced Harm to go home each night when it was the opposite of what I wanted.
"Were you ever gonna tell me?"
McCool's session ran long, longer than it should have. She walked through a few other exercises, had me skip the homework but, the good doctor would never know why the knife slammed into my fake belly bothered me so much.
My apartment is dark, the only light comes from the orange hues eminanting from the fireplace. Harm sits on my sofa and spread out across my coffee table are not one but all three of the pregnancy tests I took over the last three days.
Three different brands but each with the same result - a blue strip, a plus sign and the last a fancy shmancy digital test with the word: 'pregnant' displayed across its tiny screen.
Everything 'clicked' the moment I realized something was off with my body. I still had my period albeit a bit irregular but that seemed normal considering everything I'd lived through. It was my crappy appetite, the nausea that began once I, unknowingly hit my fourth month of pregnancy and then the physical changes.
The idea of having children, especially with Harm had been a dream I'd never thought we'd achieve. It was a silly pact between good friends, a back up plan that felt too absurd to ever come to fruition.
I was always the careful woman, the one who made sure to carry a few condoms even though I'd spent a lifetime on the pill. This didn't happen to women like me - until it did.
After the first test I spent a good half hour sitting on my bathroom floor in tears. I didn't want this, not now when I'm finally starting to accept my flaws and work on fixing them. I'm not ready to be a mother.
"What the fuck, Mac?!" Harm's not happy with me and I'm not happy with him either.
It's easy to imagine him snooping through my things, crawling on hands and knees to find the miniscule pieces of my life - the ultimate betrayal.
The tests had been thrown into the small wastebasket under my sink, discarded until I dealt with my little problem. I hadn't intended to tell Harm, not now…maybe not ever.
"Did you wait for me to leave for you to go through my things?" I ask him with a tone of voice that would frighten most men.
"I've never gone through your things."
"Really, Harmon? You did it now."
"It's trash." He retorts and the look on my face is enough to force Harm to back peddle. "I mean, it was in the trash I was simply throwing out."
"Right. How chivalrous, the mighty sailor throwing away this damsel's garbage. This isn't any of your business."
"It is if you're having my child!" He stands, raises to his full height but I know it's a scare tactic and Harmon Rabb Jr. does not scare me. He may be physically stronger but I know of a few effective ways to drop a man like Harm to his knees.
I want to yell at him, scream that he has no right to the life growing inside me but I know this is one topic he'd never let go of. Part of me wishes I'd known earlier and taken a quick trip to absolve myself of this little problem. The other part of me, the one that's only half broken, still wants this - a good man, a good life and a baby conceived out of love.
"Goddamnit, Mac, talk to me!" Harm towers over me or at least it feels that way. I'm not intimidated but I am ashamed of the thoughts that traveled through my mind when I sought to terminate this pregnancy. It was a secret I couldn't keep from him forever because the guilt would have certainly killed me.
"What do you want me to say? 'Hey, congratulations, you knocked me up the one time I'd forgotten to take the pill!' This isn't the time to worry about some innocent being's life just because I seduced you into sleeping with me."
My hands absentmindedly fall to my belly, tracing the tiny bump that is barely noticeable. I had visited my gynecologist that afternoon, gotten the necessary blood work to confirm that I was, at least, five months pregnant.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I only figured it out a few days ago."
"Did you think I didn't want it?" He swallows hard and off of my expression drops back ontonmy sofa like he'd been sucker punched.
I shrug, "I didn't know what you'd think. I just didn't want you chained to me because of some commitment." He winces and I feel marginally satisfied.
"How far along are you?"
"It happened that night…when you…when we-" And that's what hurts the most - a child that was conceived out of anger and reckless passion, not from two people in love.
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh."
Harm scrubs his face with hands and stares at the tests with an awkward expression. "I've been wanting to up the time table….Five years. You know?" He says in answer to my questioning glance. "It was a stupid deal to make and the first couple of years I was scared shitless you may have called me out on it."
"Time's up, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is…I know this, us, it's not perfect but we can work on that. I know what I want." Without warning, he stands and drops to one knee. He has no ring to offer except the academy ring that is much too large to fit my slender fingers yet he holds it in place when he says, "Marry me."
I'm sure a zillion other women would have accepted or gladly murdered me to take my place. His request is genuine. His eyes are a pale blue that pierce through my soul. God, how I've wanted this, dreamt of this and if it were another place and time, I would have accepted his proposal. But- "No."
"No?"
"No…I'm not having a shotgun wedding." I help him stand, slide the ring off my finger and place it in his palm.
"What do you want?"
"I don't know…But, I think…No, I know. I need you to leave." And it hurts like hell to see his eyes change again and his expression to turn harsh and cold. Harm's jaw is set and I brace myself for battle.
"You can't just kick me out of my kid's life."
"I'd never do that." Especially to him.
"Then what the hell is this?"
I take a breath, pull his notebook out of the purse that's still slung across my body and hand it to him. "I never read it…and I won't because I love you and I trust you. But now I need you to trust me."
"Mac?"
"I am not kicking you out of your child's life. I expect you to be there every step of the way. But, I need a partner right now and I need you to trust me."
He clutches the notebook in his hand, the pages rolling from the strain. With one final look at the pregnancy tests and not a single word, Harm's gone.
Surprisingly, his exit didn't break my heart like I thought it would. I guess I'm all cried out or too exhausted to muster a single tear. Maybe it should worry me that I feel empowered, calm, collected but, it doesn't.
Instead, I head to my room, pull my journal out of a drawer and toss it in the fireplace. Memories of Paraguay are licked by the flames and with it the fear I'd held onto. It's time to start over. It's time to be me again.
My hands drop to my belly which is still relatively flat. I make a promise to my unborn child and one that I intend to keep - no more hurt.