Chapter 67 The Message
ARYA'S POV
“Babe, please. Just answer it,” Stella kept insisting.
She wanted this mess to be cleaned up as soon as possible, that was her own problem.
“Think about it, Justin didn’t shout, he didn’t blame you. Mike might be the same. He might just want to know if you’re okay.” Stella pressed on.
“Or he might know everything and want to tear me to shreds, Stella. I can’t. My head feels like it’s going to split open.”
“It’s ringing again, Arya. Please pick up.”
I knew Mike. He was not a man to send a few messages and then stop.
“Give it to me,” I told Stella as I collected my phone from her hand, which she took earlier on.
“Hey Mike.” I greeted, trying to sound calm.
The background was noisy, more like traffic sounds and blaring cars.
“Arya, why weren't you picking up? Mike asked me, his voice sounding loud.
“I was—” I started, trying to find what to say to him.
“I know.” He interrupted. It was as though he knew that I didn't want to talk or didn't know what to say to him.
“You know what?” I asked calmly but my voice was betraying me as it cracked with fear .
“I know everything, Arya. Justin told me the moment you hung up with him. He was concerned about your health and thought I should know.”
“Oh.” I gasped, shocked that I was the only one living in a delusional world.
So they all knew, then what was the point of getting worried and being scared? I would just come out clean and tell him everything.
“Yes… I didn't want to keep the pregnancy because it wasn't part of my plans for now, so I signed up for an abortion and went through the procedure.” I replied with a full chest, not scared of anything again.
Stella hit me but I didn't care. She was shocked at how I told Mike the whole truth.
“How are you recovering now?” Mike's voice sounded again, still proud because of the bustling road he was at.
“I'm fine… I can't hear you well though.” I replied.
“Let's talk later then. I called to know how you are doing.” Mike said and the call ended.
“Are you stupid? Why would you say all of that? What is wrong with you?” Stella yelled at me as soon as I was done with the call.
“He knows already, what's the point in hiding it again.” I asked Stella as I just dropped my phone on the bedside table.
“Well since it was that easy for you to tell him then why not let your parents know the truth?” Stella asked me as I looked at her.
“I know you are one crazy kind of person but I wasn't expecting you to be foolish as well.” I replied as I sat up.
“Well just a reminder that everything will one day come to light or what do you think?” Stella replied.
“Not if you shut up.” I added.
“Well with that being said, I need to step out a bit.” Stella replied.
“To see your boyfriend I guess.” I teased, trying to look for her trouble.
“Not really, I need to get some few things to be ready for work tomorrow. My leave is over.” She answered.
“So you've been on leave? I thought your boss- boyfriend wanted you to be free?” I chuckled, though surprised.
“Arya, he is not my boyfriend. I only fuck them and that's all.” She replied with a sad face.
“You can go, I'll try and get some rest before you come back.” I said to her, giving her permission to leave her own house, how funny it was.
Things were not too smooth for me but I knew myself to be strong and get over it with time.
I tried to rest but I couldn't. Gosh, it was a disturbing moment for me. The quietness of the house was peaceful , but my body wouldn't cooperate. I felt exhausted and heavy.
After half an hour of simply staring at the ceiling, I decided that lying down was only making my mental health worse. I was sick, yes, but I wasn't immobilized. I slowly swung my legs over the side of the bed.
I picked up my phone, not to check for messages from Mike, but to find something that I could do to keep me busy.
I scrolled through social media for a few minutes, finding no solace in the staged perfection of other people’s lives.
My gaze drifted to the small calendar icon on my home screen. The doctor had been clear about the recovery period. I recalled him telling me to rest, no strenuous activity, but gentle movement was encouraged to prevent clotting.
I typed a quick search into the browser, ‘light exercises post-abortion.’
I wasn't looking for a rigorous workout, just a way to keep myself busy and help my body to heal rapidly and timely.
I found several reliable medical websites that recommended simple stretches and walking until I found one.
I started with the most basic move which was lying on my back, I practiced deep, slow belly breaths, inhaling for a count of four and exhaling for six. The rhythmic action forced a calming presence onto my tired nerves.
Next, I moved on to pelvic floor exercises, followed by a few careful knee bends, barely dipping my hips. I felt the light stretch in my legs and lower back with muscles I hadn't realized were cramped from days of tension and bed rest.
I immediately stopped, letting myself fall back onto the carpet and lying flat on my back. I closed my eyes and let my arms rest at my sides. The small exercises I did had already drained me of my energy.
I laid there for a full ten minutes. I felt so tired and the quietness of the apartment helped my mind to rest as I let my body feel the peace and warmth it came with.
Finally, I pushed myself up. My stomach growled.
Gosh… I'm hungry, again. Was I a glutton or was it the exercise that made me hungry? Whichever, I didn't care as all I cared about was to refill the lost food and replenish the lost energy in me.
I made my way to the kitchen slowly as I dragged my tired feet. I put the kettle on and found a box of tea and digestive biscuits Stella had left. I didn't have the appetite for a full meal, but I needed something to eat.
With the hot tea and biscuits prepared, I bypassed the bedroom entirely and headed straight to the living room.
I settled my heavy and tired body into one of the sofas that was comfortable for me.
I began to scroll through the channels, finding the one that interested me and could help me relax after I switched on the television.
My lower abdomen was still cramping but the pain was manageable, the sickness was receding, and I had managed to take a small, important step toward feeling like myself again. It wasn't full recovery, but it was progress.