Chapter 172

“Don’t talk to me” I yell at him as he walks into the bedroom and turns and walks straight back out with a frown and a sigh, doing his best not to fight with me again. We have been fighting all day about everything and nothing and I am being my crazy, irrational self-right now, who doesn’t want to converse or touch in any way. Good old Sophie is reverting inside her head to deal with this shit and Arry is on the verge of some sort of silent mental break down.

Feeling enraged, crazy upset that this is ruining everything for us. My head’s a chaos of mess and conflicting thoughts and fear.

A baby, a real live little human being inside of me, that we put there, and it screws everything up. I can’t go home unless by land and sea and Arry would never be okay with that long-haul journey. He wants me to stay put until I can fly again, stay put when he goes back to our city to finish the last weeks of his ties to his family business and leave me here again. Stuck in this hellhole that I want to see the back of and go home.

It ruins my last term of school, our wedding plans, my life, everything.

What the hell am I supposed to do with a little person? I don’t even know if I like babies.

I barely take care of myself, Arry does everything and makes sure my life runs as smoothly as it can.

He has no clue how to take care of a baby either and I don’t want to have to go through this.

Pregnancy… Birth!

Watching Emma give birth was the single most terrifying thing in my life and did not look pleasant or do-able at all.

What the hell are we going to do?

Arrick reappears carrying a tray and a grim expression and slides it on the bed by my feet. Not saying a word, just a determined expression to handle his ‘moody little Madame’ without causing another Armageddon. Everything he has said since this morning has set me off and I feel like howling into a cushion for the rest of the day.

We didn’t sleep. We sat numb and silent for a long time and then I cried, a lot. Arrick tried to console me, which riled me, and we sort of grew from bickering to all-out war by the time the sun came fully up.

Everything he is doing or saying right now, is making me irrationally crazy and I know it’s probably because I am mid meltdown. We handle things differently. I need space to vent, scream, pace and process. Arry is more of the smother me and talk it out type and right now, we are so not on the same page. I’m exhausted. I want the chaos of my head and moods to stop and give me a five-minute break.

He places the food laden tray carefully down, although I almost kick it off when I see he has switched my normal junk munchies for health food and fruit juice and glare at him coolly.

“Don’t you dare.” I stare at the tray and then him as he sighs heavily.

“You’re pregnant… That means you need to eat better, Sophs.”

“Don’t start with this shit… I can’t handle any more on top of this and I just want a Pepsi and a huge tub of Ben and Jerrys right now.” I balk at him, but he ignores me and sits down beside the tray looking detached from reality. Arry is processing, it’s all over that face and knowing him he has a million thoughts, that are crazily over dramatic, running through that clever little head right now.

“We have to accept that this is our reality… It’s happening, and we can do this. We weren’t ready, we’re in shock … but… We can do this, Sophs. We have good families, a great support network, money to hire help, and a million options for us.” He’s in calm and controlled, taking charge mode, and I flop back against the cushions in defeat. Heart exploding in my chest with the pressure of all this on top of me.

“Yeah option one. Sophie gets dumped in France for two months while Arry fucks off back to New York and starts changing everything in readiness for a baby… I know you. I’ll come back to a completely different home and life and hate it even more.” Tears start biting and I stare at the ceiling in heartbreak.

This changes everything and it’s only the beginning.

“I won’t change anything until your home, but you can’t fly, and I do have to go back for a little while.

Not the whole two months. Just a couple of weeks to see the end of these contracts and merger meetings and then I am done with all of it. I gave my father that.” He sounds tired, looks exhausted and suddenly, I feel so small and feeble and want him to make this all go away for me.

But he can’t.

Because I’m pregnant.

Shit.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to be.” The tears hit hard and my voice breaks and seems to snap Arry out of his trance like state. Closing my eyes tight and covering my face as I let loose; within seconds he’s beside me on the bed wrapping me up in his body and holding me close.

“I know, baby. It’s not how I imagined it would be either, not how I thought I would react, but it’s filtering in and I can’t say that I’m not happy about this. It’s still our baby, Sophs. A part of us, something we made together.” He sounds soft and soothing and I can tell he is slowly warming to the idea in full blown Arry manner. Letting it sink in and dissecting all possible outcomes like the weirdo he is.

Arry likes kids, he’s good with his nieces and nephews and I know he wants kids one day, well now, so it’s easier for him to accept. It won’t change his life in the way it will change mine. He still gets to go about his business, do his thing and not experience anything until I pop out a brat.

I don’t even like children that much, well, except ones related to me, but they don’t count.

God knows what that will do to my hatchling hole. I mean pushing out an Ava sized bundle from down there, when even Arry’s manhood is a tight fit. What the hell kind of black magic is that?

He will never want to have sex with me again if its baby sized for eternity. It won’t even touch the sides.

Oh my god, we will never be alone ever again to even have sex or do anything remotely kinky. What am I supposed to do with a little person by my side every second? I’m too selfish a girl and too self-

absorbed for that kind of shit. What does one even do with a little bundle of mini Arrick, twenty-four hours a day?

“Stop crying, Sophs… It’s going to be okay. We are going to be okay.” Arrick is squeezing me half to death as the tears keep falling, but it’s making me angrier with all the dumb thoughts going off in my head.

“That’s easy for you to say, you don’t have to get fat and weird and turn into a hormonal psycho who then has to push a human out of their body.” I blurt it out and sniff dramatically wiping my eyes on his shirt sleeve like a child.

See! I can’t even act like an adult while having a fight with my future husband. What kind of mother will I be?

“No, but I am sure you will make it an all-inclusive experience.” the light tone in his voice at his asshole remark makes me snap up to see him smirking, actual fucking smiling about this.

“Fuck you. Sometimes I really hate you.” I shove him in the abs, but he only holds me closer.

“I expect this is going to be a hellish few months, knowing you, and your diva ways. You should be nice to me right now, baby, even with the amount of patience and understanding I have for you… I can’t promise I won’t want to strangle you by the end of this.” He’s smiling again and I snarl like a feral stray.

“This isn’t funny… Why are you even joking about this? This is the worst thing ever.” Enraged, losing my sadness to be replaced with anger at my thick-skulled idiot man.

“I can think of a lot worse things. Come on, Sophs… Look at Jake and Emma. They were even less suited to being parents than we are and look at them now.”

“Stop it.” I yell at him and throw his arms free, so I can get away and roll off the bed to the opposite side. “Stop trying to make me think this is okay when it’s not.” Hands on hips, sniffing back my tears and Arry regards me coolly with that indifferent mask he adopts from time to time.

“I’m looking beyond the shock. Thinking about the after’s, and I know this is not as bad as we first felt it was. I know you’re freaking out right now, being stroppy Sophie and having an all-out tantrum. Give it a few days and you’ll start to see it this way too.”

I hate that he thinks he knows me so well, knows how my brain works, and throw one of the scatter cushions at him expertly. He dodges it away with a hand and continues to watch me from his position, lounging on the bed. Unaffected by my crazy. Either he has processed this crazily fast or he’s drunk on shock and acting like a weirdo. He too calm and too accepting for the guy I know and love. Where is my fretting, overthinking boy who should be equally freaked out by this?

“Stop being a little hell cat and come here.” He motions a little finger wiggle at me, a half smile, and a soft expression.

God, I want to throat punch you.

“Fuck you, you put a baby in me, therefore we are no longer friends.” I throw a second cushion at him, only this time I hear him chuckle as he bats it away too and enrages me enough to storm out of the bedroom in exasperation.

Oh boy are we on completely different pages.

“Guess you won’t be wanting to marry the asshole that knocked you up anymore either, huh?” He appears at the bedroom door behind me and dodges the cushion from the couch I throw at him too.

Rage building the smugger he gets.

Ass fucking hole!

“Stop following me.” I snap at him and walk further into the room to find something to do to expel this excess energy brimming inside of me. All I can do is pace around and look for things to throw at him to make me feel better. In my head this is all his fault… his seed, his sex, his seductive ways, and right now blaming him is easier than facing reality.

I don’t want a baby!

“I still want to marry you.” He grins, and I swear if I knew throwing a glass vase at his face didn’t scar his prettiness he would be wearing several already.

“I hate you.” I sulk and know my fire is dying, to be replaced with fatigue. The ounces of energy and strength in my voice are fading. Being up all night is not good for me at any time, especially not when I have a valid reason to feel unwell.

“Maybe, but as you haven’t thrown my ring at me, then I’m guessing that’s a good sign.” He smirks and sets me off again What the hell is wrong with him?

“Don’t tempt me.” I glare, snarl, and frown all at the same time.

“You know you’re crazy sexy and cute when you’re mad… weird as it may be. I have always loved seeing you like this.” He grins this time, like a Cheshire cat and I sigh heavily. Losing the battle and the will to live with him in this mood. He’s on the charm offensive and slowly getting through my armor. I hate that this is how he operates.

“I’m not mad, I’m devastated.” I croak at him; my weirdo boyfriend, and then walk to the couch to slump down and put my head between my knees in bewilderment. Arry comes and sits next to me and starts rubbing my back and shoulders gently, those amazing massage hands getting to work and lulling me out of my crazy tirade very slowly.

“I know you are. I understand why you feel this way, Sophs, and I get it. You have to think about this rationally though… we have the means to hire help, continue with the plans if we juggle things a little.

You can still finish school, maybe delay it by a year to get through this and having the baby.”

I snap my head up and glare at him furiously.

“Delay it a fucking year? Do you know how far back it would set me… How crazy that idea is? I can’t defer by a whole year and sit at home twiddling my thumbs. I need to go to school. I want to go to school and still reach for my goals.” Tears are back in full swing and he sighs at me.

“Okay, okay… So maybe we can investigate half a term with a split… See if New York will be willing to take you on for a few months and then finish after it comes. We will need to look into the safety aspect and all the …” Treating me with kid gloves.

“Stop it, stop doing that!” I snap losing my fragile temper once more and this time wail at him.

“Stop what? We can’t just bury our head in the sand with this.” He’s keeping his voice gentle, his eyes on me and that annoying calm expression.

Dickhead.

“Stop organizing my fucking life for me and smoothing over the fact that this is NOT okay. This is beyond not okay; far, far, far, from O Fucking K.” I push his hands off and curl up into a ball in the corner of the couch. Being my cute, little spit ball, difficult Sophie, self, that used to be a much more common presence and not for the first time I wonder why he ever stuck around back then. “Just let me breathe.”

I was like this a hell of a whole lot more when I was moving on from my past and like he’s being now…

Arry stayed patient with me.

“I need to call my brother and tell him; he needs to know what’s going on here. He will be the one to switch up the Rota for my schedule and the planned meetings, so I don’t need to head back to the city so soon.” I know that’s code for I may look calm, but I’m not, and I need to go get my brother to talk me down from jumping off a ledge and maybe hold my hand. I wish he didn’t feel the need to be so pulled together in front of me. I want him to be like I’m being, to freak out with me like he was in the first few minutes. I need him to not be so fake happy about this.

“I don’t care… Go away, you’re making me worse.” I slap the hand off me that comes to my thigh and he eye rolls before getting up.

“A lesser man would take offence to his fiancée hating on him like this, Baby. Give me a little break, please.” He tries for endearing and gets a tongue stuck out at him.

“Mature… I love you… Stop sulking and go eat.” He pats my head like a puppy and receives another hand slap before retreating in the direction of the hall with an indulgent look back at me, and I know he is going to the kitchen to call Jake. Have his man time with his mentor and probably start comparing baby names and father to be clubs.

Ughhh.

I’m fucking pregnant.

I wish the ground would open and swallow me whole.

He is right though, I am hungry and even his crappy food platter of all things wholesome is calling to me, whether I want to admit it or not. I get up and slink to the bedroom in search of nourishment and close the door behind me to get some head space. Maybe I can figure out how the hell to deal with this if he stays out of my way for a while.

***

“I will maim you.” I growl at him over the huge tub of ice cream he is trying to extract from my clenched hands and giving me that ‘I will physically remove it and discipline you at the same time’ glare.

“It’s after eight pm and all you have eaten all day is fruit and three tubs of ice cream, Sophs.” He yanks it free and pulls the spoon out of my hand too. Bossy asshole in full swing as I reach out clawing for it.

“I didn’t want snails.” I sulk.

“She didn’t make snails… those were mushrooms and it’s called real food. You didn’t touch anything either of us made you all day. You can’t keep living holed up in here eating frozen yoghurt for days on end.”

“Yes, I can, it’s the upside for my impending fatness.” I give him a tearful look and he eyerolls at me, sighing heavily. His patience lasted maybe another twenty-four hours and now he is seriously starting to lose the rag with me. He’s tried to give me space and I tried so hard to make my peace with this, it’s just not happening. The more I think about it, the more terrified and fucked up I get. So scared and it’s consuming me.

There are so many reasons that me and a baby should never be paired up. I have seriously no maternal instinct, no great beginning in life to show me what a mom should be like with a baby and no desire to throw my life away so soon.

“Stop wallowing and get up. You’re coming to the kitchen to eat and then I’m showering you and getting you out of this bed.” Arry yanks me by the ankle and sends me flying backwards to land on my back on the bed, which is now a little food splattered from nesting in here all day.

I didn’t even let him sleep in here last night, he had to go camp out on the couch because I told him I was going to castrate him in his sleep if he even tried. He is getting the full brunt of the blame now. I don’t care if I am being a psychopath. I feel like shit, my hormones all over the place and I want to stab people.

His stupid ass, whore faced, big tittied, tramp of a PA called him this morning and even that made me irrationally insane from through here, hearing her fucking dickhead name. I wanted to walk through and ram his cell up his ass.

Stupid Miss. Boobs. and her non-pregnant self. Ughhh.

I get that this is probably first stages of hormones doing this to me, mingled with a lot of crazy messy head as I work through acceptance, but right now, I am going insane. I am aware of this, but I can’t do a damned thing about it.

Arrick comes back after depositing my ice cream in the kitchen and forcibly lifts me from the bed, legs first, hauling me down towards him and then picks me up like a child.

“What are you doing?” I stare at him sadly, so over feeling like this and realizing I have no fight at all left.

“What I do best, taking care of Sophie.” He smiles softly and carries me to the bathroom, pops me on my feet as he walks forward and switches on the shower and tests the temperature.

“Sophie isn’t here right now, she left you for being a prick and knocking her up.” I retort huffily, and he throws me an indulgent backwards glance.

“Yeah well, you look a lot like her, and you share her tantrum Diva side so guess I’ll just take care of you.” He carries on putting my shampoos and wash at the little shelf beside the water nozzle and turns to put towels on the heated rail. Just watching him go about getting my shower ready, being calm, steady, and loving pushes out the last of my fire and guilt consumes me.

“I’m sorry that I am being insane… I feel…” I can’t even say it out loud because I know how it makes me sound.

I’m heartbroken for a life I planned that is now dust. I’m in over my head and running for the hills.

Arrick comes back and kisses me softly on the mouth.

“You’re working through it… I gave you all day to sulk, now I’m taking over. We are having a shower, then a real dinner. Then when Janetta is done changing the bed sheets, we are going to bed to watch a movie and sleep… Together. Like any normal night and I don’t want to hear any refusals. Maybe sex if you’re up to it.”

“Sex is what did this.”

“Yeah and it’s done now, so, it’s not like it’s going to make it any worse, and sex always makes both of us feel a hell of a lot better.” He starts pulling my clothes off over my head and brushes my hair back to lean in for another chaste kiss.

“I don’t want sex. I want to wallow and hate you for a little while longer.”

“If that’s what you need.”

Arrick finishes undressing me, pulling me close so I can hold onto him when he lifts one foot at a time to strip me, obediently. I let him, no desire to fight it or do anything except let him take the lead. He stands back and throws his own clothes off in seconds before taking me by the hand and leading me into our walk-in shower.

As soon as I am under the water with him, he turns me away, so he can start washing my hair and I numbly sag into him a little. Too consumed with fatigue and god knows what to even function. I just want to stop thinking.

“We should schedule a doctor’s appointment as soon as possible.” Arrick carries on as this is a normal conversation on any normal day and I spin my head to glare at him.

“How about let me fucking breathe for ten god damn minutes before you start planning out my life, thank you very much!” I shove him hard with a closed fist in his upper shoulder aggressively. A little ‘back the hell off while Sophie deals with this’ maneuver and he holds his ground and stays impassive.

I turn away again and he goes back to continuing to wash my hair. He exhales heavily behind me and starts rubbing the washcloth over my shoulder, despite my hostility.

“This is going to be a long nine months.” He mutters under his breath and I resist the urge to stamp on his foot.

“You chose me… Suck it up, Princess.” I huff and cross my arms defiantly across my bust as fingers creep around my waist and he pulls me back against him gently, so we can both get the full stream of water from overhead. He starts to rinse the suds from my hair. I stay rigid, not willing to relent in any way to his gentleness, sulking and simmering about this.

“Maybe we will stick to just one kid, right? I’ll get a vasectomy after this and we can live happily ever after.” I know he’s joking, but his tone is not exactly happy and fun loving, and it makes me burst into instant wounded tears.

“You hate me already.”

Yeah, I know it’s lame as I tell him almost daily that I hate him, but he knows I don’t mean it and it’s my way of letting out my fear or pain. Shielding everything weak and vulnerable with a hard-outer shell.

Arrick never really makes many jokes about us in a sarcastic way and I am stupidly sensitive.

“Hey” Arrick wraps his arms around me and holds me tight, kissing me on the side of my hair.

“I’m sorry, baby, it was a joke. I didn’t mean it. I don’t hate you… I could never hate you. I love you and this is just early days and teething issues. You’re fragile and emotional and I get that. Come on, baby, stop.” He turns me to face him and the water ends up running down my face and wiping away the tears.

“Make it better. Make it go away.” I beg him and sigh into a sag when he pulls me against him tightly.

“I’m trying… You have to let me. Put a little faith in me that we really are going to be fine. I won’t let this ruin your dreams, or your goals… They’re as important to me as they are to you, and you have to trust that I can get us through this. Sophie Carrero, fashion designer extraordinaire is still a real happening thing, baby.” He strokes my hair and cradles me gently, swaying me a little from side to side. He has no idea how much I need him to make this all okay. I can’t do this alone and I cannot get my head around any of it. I’m emotionally exhausted and this feels like a nightmare. I have to trust him, that we can do this, that we can get through it.

We have to.

“Don’t leave me when I get crazy and fat.” I sniff some more and can’t help the little vision of busty brunette from his office looking all slinky and demure in my future visual of me looking like a beached whale next to her. Being stupidly insecure and jealous and letting my dumb niggles get the better of me.

“I will never leave you… If anything, you just made sure I have a double investment of emotions, to cling on even harder. Besides, you were always crazy anyway and I still fell in love with you.” He kisses me on top of my head again and despite his words and the humor in them it doesn’t warm the cold emptiness inside of me I want to be warming to this as much as he seems to be, but I can’t.

I don’t want a baby.

As much as I tell myself that it’s too late, it’s here inside of me. It’s real. It’s happening. I cannot feel anything but a huge pit of regret and despair and the oncoming mass panic attack that forever threatens to consume me.