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48
"Owen..."
"Hmm?"
"What if I'm not pregnant?"
The finger he's been using to draw circles on my bare tummy stops abruptly upon hearing my enquiry. He lifts his face to look at me, "Are you wishing you're not pregnant?"
"I want the baby as much as you want it," I continue playing with his hair as I've been ten minutes ago, "I just wonder what will happen if I'm not pregnant. We clearly never planned for this, so what will happen next if we get a negative?"
I don't understand why I'm asking this question because I clearly have the answer; we'd proceed with our life as we've decided three days ago before this pregnancy scare- me going forward with my life plan, and him out of my life doing whatever he's supposed to do, without me.
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How. Can. I. Possibly. NOT. Pregnant?! It's ridiculous, really. I'm a healthy 23 year old woman, who's clearly in her prime child-bearing age, has been having sex with a man nearly every day which on those days can be up to three times a day, so how, on earth, can I not be pregnant? This is infuriating. Outrageous. Impossible! "You must be relieved." I sneer as I pour the last drop of liquid from the bottle of Rose into my glass. I've celebrated the news with a bottle as soon as we hung up. "Not more than you." He throws the same tone at me, swirling
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A bad marriage is worse than no marriage at all. That's what I said to my sister every time she confides to me about his husband's infidelity.That's what I also told Owen, that if he has a change of heart, just let me know and let me go. Because we'll never know what the future holds; it's better to be prepared than be burned when everything's too late. Afterall we started our relationship with honesty before romance and have been practising this for as long as I can remember.We started our life as husband and wife at Aberdeen a week after our grand wedding in London. It was rushed but it was definitely perfect, just like the one I've been dreaming of. Thank God for a rich husband that we managed to afford all the last-minute
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"I usually give her sweet stuff only on Saturdays because it's not school night. Now since it's summer, Hugo sneaks in chocolate or something behind my back all the time. So tired of chasing her to bed."He's been ranting like a true housewife, reminding me of my mom so much I bet he'd fit right in her circle. It's refreshing to see this side of him. He has all those DILF package, too bad he's married and gay.Though he certainly got my uterus vibrating again, itching to fill it with something so we'd have one Pao each.Huh, if only I can get pregnant that easy.
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I'm suddenly color blind, because those red flags are looking real white right now. In fact, I'll gladly be running all around New York waving that red flag happily. Because I'm one satisfied woman when I'm being taken care like this. I mean, look at this spread! Instead of just having one dish for dinner, there's so many varieties as if it's a party. "Stop! We're supposed to be mad!" Her whisper-shout makes me stop chewing the content in my mouth. Oh shit. I really am a bad accomplice; I was too hungry since I skipped lunch that I accidentally took a bite of the chicken despite our pact to show our protest by not eating dinner. I grin at her as I reluctantly put the drummet on my plate, "Sowwi
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