Chapter 43 - Pregnant?

I really didn't expect Axel to give me a scolding about what had happened to me and Cindy. I was surprised when he said he thought I had told Amelie about my addiction. He was right when he said I should tell her, but I couldn't bring myself to expose myself to her. I didn't want to be a disappointment. Someday, maybe. Someday I would get out of it, and then I would tell her.

It was the first time I'd seen Amelie fall ill in front of me. At least, for the first time, it wasn't from an oscillation with EVE. It wasn't normal—nothing was normal. For the last few weeks, she'd seemed fine; in fact, she'd seemed as good as ever. Everyone had noticed that she even seemed happier. Many even said that her happiness was because she was dating me. I felt honored to hear people say that. Lately, I have been convinced that I am a bad person, doing bad things. Hearing someone say something positive about me really lifted my spirits. Anyway, I was really considering going to see a professional, but a part of me was telling me that I would be weak if I sought help. I didn't really believe in therapy. It didn't seem to work. I wanted to believe in it, and I really did, but the only person I liked to tell about my problems was Amelie. In fact, lately, not even with her. I had told her about Cindy, but the rest remained a secret.

"Amelie, you're not well; we need to go to the hospital," I said to her, as I stopped her from getting up, just after returning from the bathroom, where she had vomited. I had followed her and realized what was happening. Amelie was too stubborn to obey any opinion contrary to hers. At that moment, I didn't have time for that; I had to prevent her from getting up. "Don't get up, Amelie," I said, insisting, as I pressed her shoulders down, preventing her from getting up.

"I'm fine, Dorian; it was just a dizzy spell," she said, still trying to get up. She really was a very stubborn person. Sometimes it took a lot of patience to deal with her. Sometimes I didn't. "Can you let me up, please?" she asked, while looking at me, visibly dissatisfied with the situation. Looking at her, I let her go and stood up, only for her to stagger again seconds later and have to sit down.

"I told you, Amelie. You're not well," I warned her. "Did you eat something strange, something that was bad for you?" I asked. I wasn't sure why I was asking, since I'd spent the night with her, and she hadn't eaten anything out of the ordinary, and if something was bad, I'd probably be sick too.

"I don't know, Dorian. Maybe I just smelled something strange, or slept badly," she said with her head down, probably afraid of throwing up again. "I really don't know," she said again. I didn't know what to do, apart from offering to take her to the hospital. At that moment, Axel appeared.

"What's going on?" he asked worriedly, as he stared at me and her, trying to figure out who would answer first. He bent down to meet her, who was still bent over, indicating that she was feeling unwell. "What are you feeling, Amelie?" he asked. She didn't seem to have the strength to answer, so he turned to me for answers.

"She started feeling dizzy," I said at first. "She also threw up," I said, not holding back any information. I still liked the rule of no secrets between us, although I didn't follow it in the letter. Amelie stared at me, angry, as if she were judging me for telling Axel. It wasn't as if it wasn't noticeable, given the obvious smell of vomit that was coming from her. Someone with a weak stomach wouldn't be able to stay near her for long.

"Amelie, you don't usually get sick; you need to see a doctor," Axel said, visibly worried, as was I. "Dorian put her in the car. "Dorian put her in the car and take her away," he said, standing up from her height and coming face-to-face with me. Axel was not much taller than me—not enough to intimidate me. In fact, very few people could manage that feat. He wasn't one of them.

"Don't order me around; I was already going to do that," I said, staring at him. I liked Axel a lot; after all, we were friends, but there were times when I just wanted to smash his face in. Maybe I would really blow his face off at some point, but there, with Amelie, I couldn't. "Come on, Amelie," I said, taking her arm and helping her up, still struggling. "Come on," I said again. Axel stared at me and started to help me up. Amelie was still a little reluctant, but she was regaining her balance. I knew she was going to insist on not going, so as soon as she stood up, I started to pull her out of the store to the parking lot and into my car. At first, Axel followed us, afraid that she would try to escape, but as soon as we got to my car, he left us.

"Keep me informed. I'll stay and look after the store, so there's no need to worry," he said, helping her into the passenger seat. "If anything happens, call me," he said, staring at me. Of course, I would call; I would never let him worry, because if it were the other way around, I know he wouldn't let me either. A love-hate relationship.

I got into the car and started it. Amelie seemed much less weak than before, and that reassured me. Maybe it was nothing, but we'd still better go and check. We all had the same health plan; I mean, we had money, and the least we could do to have a proper quality of life was to have a good plan. "Is your hospital card in your bag?" I asked her, without taking my eyes off the street. On the way to the car, Amelie managed to grab her purse.

"Yes, I never take it out," she said. I thought that, as most people did, she would give it one last check, but she didn't. "Do you have a vomit bag?" she asked me. At that moment, I stared at her, afraid that she was going to throw up in the car. I did have vomit bags, but they were in the glove compartment, where there were also some things she shouldn't see. I was frightened, and in a quick gesture, I opened the glove compartment and took out the bag, then closed it. Likewise, I handed it to her, and it was a matter of seconds before she vomited into it. For me, it was two reliefs: that she hadn't seen my herbs and cigarettes, and that she hadn't thrown up in my car.

The smell of vomit permeated the car, but Amelie was cunning and sprayed a lot of perfume to disguise the smell. It eased it but didn't solve it. Luckily, the hospital wasn't too far away. "Are you all right?" I asked her, still worried. I began to think that maybe we had eaten something bad and that I would soon start to feel sick. It wasn't normal at all. I was starting to get nervous. Amelie seemed calmer than me.

We finally arrived at the hospital. It was packed, as usual. Anyway, we went in, filled out her form, and waited for the first appointments. When the nurse called us in, she started asking us a series of questions. The classic question was about menstruation, but Amelie didn't menstruate. The injection she was taking cut out all menstruation, so it was normal. The next questions were all about symptoms, and then I realized that nausea, dizziness, and vomiting weren't the only symptoms she was experiencing. Thinking back, I had heard her complain of headaches and even malaise, as well as body aches. It all seemed quite normal to me—nothing to worry about. There, in the room, it seemed to be. Then the nurse asked the main questions: how long had it been since Amelie had had the injection, and that month she said she had forgotten to take it on the right day and hadn't taken it; she also asked about sexual relations and whether they were protected. Some were, some weren't. Then the nurse looked at her as if she suspected something, but she didn't say anything; she just asked us to wait. We left the room and waited outside. Amelie seemed really calm about everything. I wasn't. I knew everything those questions meant. No, she couldn't be pregnant.

A few minutes later, the nurse called Amelie in for a blood test. Amelie must have been very excited about the whole thing because when she came back out of the room, she had the same look on her face as before. The Amelie I knew wouldn't be calm about news like that. Perhaps the nurse hadn't mentioned anything about a possible pregnancy. Maybe it was an illness. I was really worried. I wanted to ask her something, but I couldn't bring myself to mention it. Not only that, but I just followed her around, completely distressed, while I waited for the results of the tests. Did Amelie want to have children? Did she want to start a family? I couldn't remember the last time we'd talked about it. And most importantly, if Amelie were pregnant, whose would it be? It really scared me. Inside, I was wishing it was nothing.

"Are you all right?" she asked me, noticing my unease. "I'm not dying," she said, laughing. Was Amelie really not thinking straight, or was she reassured by the idea of having a child? I couldn't tell. I was afraid to bring it up and make her anxious because I wouldn't be able to calm her down if that happened.

"Yes, you are," I said, trying not to worry her. "I just don't like hospitals very much," I replied, trying to avoid her asking anything that might bring up the subject of the exams. It was true that I hated hospitals. I'd had several negative experiences there, due to excessive drug use. It had been a while, but I was still afraid of meeting someone who would recognize me and ask me how I was. It would be the end if Amelie witnessed a situation like that.

Finally, we were called into the room. I staggered around, disguising my anxiety. I hoped it was just low blood pressure or food poisoning. Anything but an illness or a child. They were the last problems we needed in our lives. We entered the room and sat down. A doctor was sitting there, holding numerous pieces of paper. Great, he hadn't seen anything yet; he would find out right away. When we sat down, he asked a few questions, to which Amelie repeated the answers.

"Right, let's look at your tests," he said, finally taking out all the papers, reading the results, and evaluating them. Every second he read, I swallowed. "Congratulations, Amelie; you're pregnant," he said. Amelie's eyes widened, and then I knew it hadn't crossed her mind. She went into a trance. The next few minutes seemed to pass automatically. We left the office with a copy of the test in our hands. We were both stunned.

"I don't want you to know," Amelie said, visibly apathetic. "I think I need to go and throw up again," she said, letting go of me and running to the reception bathroom. At that moment, I didn't know what to think. Then my phone rang. It was Axel.

"So, is everything all right?" he asked me quickly. I knew it was only a matter of time before he called.

I sighed deeply as I thought about what I should do. Fuck. "Dude, she's pregnant," I said.