n’t live with the pitiful eyes of all my neighbours because my grandfather died and my marriage fell apart all in the same week.
Besides, I wasn’t that girl anymore, who could go back to her old 9-5 job, and volunteer at the pet shelter, have sleepovers with Alice and barbecues with Sam. I couldn’t come home to that empty house every night.
Maybe it would get better with time, but the desperation to start fresh was deeper.
Twenty four hours after signing the divorce papers when Gabriel still didn’t call, I went to the store to get a new number. I still hadn’t activated my old number after my phone got stolen that time when I was kidnapped, and had ended up using one of Gabriel’s spare cards for the time being. Recovery happened, work happened, but I never ended up going to get a
new number..
I wasn’t keen on changing numbers. A what–if always loomed at the back of my head. What if he calls?
When the guy told me I couldn’t keep the old number because of reasons (that I didn’t understand) that started with it being registered under Gabriel’s name and ended with something about it being a private number that only he had access to sol couldn’t choose another plan, I had to change it.
It hurt, as if killing the part of myself that still had hope of him someday maybe reaching but.
And it’s not like after he blatantly asked me to leave his life I could still text him and say ‘hey, here’s my new number. Just in
case.”
All the savings I had spent in buying the ring for Gabriel (that didn’t even deliver in all my time there) bit me in the ass right about now, because all I could afford with my savings was a tiny apartment in a rather shady building.
But that was enough for a start. That had to be enough.
Gabriel’s shiny black Amex still lay in a corner in my wallet, but I had no intention of using it. Maybe he had called the bank
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and deactivated it, because why would he leave millions of his money in the hands of a girl he wanted nothing to do with? And as his ex–wife, I could spend it all just out of spite or revenge, so he probably did block this card. I wasn’t willing to find out, because I didn’t feel angry.
I felt anxious. I felt anxiety pangs all the time for the first few days, and then the anxiety turned into full blown attacks. I appealed to the point where I missed all my new Interviews, and hardly got out of bed. I kept sick all the time, barely eating because I kept throwing up.
I was spiralling. Luna was worried, and practically pushed me out to see a therapist which I was completely against, because that would be a drain to my pocket that I couldn’t afford.
But I needed to get better so that I can get to work again and get out of the shady apartment I was living in.
One month later, that’s how I found myself at the psychiatrist’s office.
“Miss. Baker, the symptoms you have just described are synonymous with the first stage of depression, Zooni Khan, my 47 year old doctor tells me the diagnosis I already knew and feared, “Even the physical symptoms. However, I need to ask you, when was your last menstrual period?”
I just blink, staring at her dumbfounded. When no memories of restocking my tampons since I had arrived here came, the colour of my face drained.
“I suggest you take a pregnancy test, just in case.”
“I just have to pee on a stick. I can do it, right, Luna?” I paced around my room.
“Yes, Sophia, you can do it.” She reassured me for the nth time and I sighed. I wasn’t sure when she said she wanted to come with me, but she had been my anchoring in the past month. She was the reason I remembered to get out of bed and eat something at all.
I was scared, but the glint of excitement in her eyes was obvious when I went to the bathroom and peed on the stupid stick, which was absolutely uncomfortable, by the way.
In retrospective, I should’ve peed in a cup and put the stick in it, but I didn’t have any brain cells left.
“Ten minutes?!” I almost shrieked, reading the packet outside, “All those ads say three minutes!”
“Sophia, I say this with the best possible intention, why don’t you try meditation?” Luna asked, and I glared at her.
I do sit on the bed nonetheless, breathing deep. Gabriel should be here, by my side, waiting for the results with me. For a minute, I consider what his reaction would be. Would he be excited? Scared as I was? Think this was too soon?
I gasped when the ten minute alarm rang.
This was happening with me a lot. I kept dissociating into my own thoughts, thinking only a minute had passed when it
was more.
Gulping, I go to get the stick I had left at the bathroom sink, and my heart skips a beat when I see the second faint line in
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front of the first one.
“You’re pregnant.” Luna’s eyes widen, and she peeks over my shoulder at the stick that I held in my trembling hands.
My breath hitches, my hand making its way to my stomach in nervousness. “Maybe it’s a false positive. I should go see a
doctor just to be sure.”