“I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my chest,” he said.
I lied my head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat as we relaxed and enjoyed our evening.
“You have a string of away games coming up, will you be okay without me,” I asked.
“I’m not sure, will you be okay without me,” he said between laughs. “What brings this on?”
“I just like this; I don’t want this to change anytime soon,” I replied. “You know how players get when they’re on the road.”
“How are players on the road?”
I rolled my eyes, wondering why he even needed to ask.
“Players like to hook up with girls on the road, it’s obvious. I like how this is right now, but I don’t want to end up sharing you with some tramp you meet.”
He pushed me off.
“What do you really think this is?” he asked.
I sat up, a bit surprised.
“I think this is two attractive people spending their nights together. But, I want to spend time with someone that doesn’t need to sleep with a bunch of hookers.”
He stood up out of bed.
“Do you know why I broke it off with Monica? Because she hounded me about this crap all the time when I would leave town.”
“Yeah, well I’m not Monica, but I sure as hell don’t feel like sharing.”
He started picking my things off the floor.
“What, are you kicking me out, now?”
He tossed a bundle of clothes on the bed. I took the hint and started getting dressed.
“If you’re going to start pushing me into a relationship like Monica then you can just get out now. I don’t need this.”
“You know what, fine, go off and screw all the hookers you want. Don’t come crying back to me when you get back.”
I threw on the last of my things and pushed towards the door. He didn’t say anything as I left, just silence followed me. I could already feel some tears starting to well up behind my eyes, but I was too proud to let them show.
6.
I buried myself in work. The stress of living was taking over, and I was barely interested in going out when the weekend finally came. I stayed in and spent time catching up on work.
Then the tabloids started filling me in about what Jake was up to while he was on the road.
He made the cover of a magazine with his latest girl; she looked just like Monica. I felt disheartened at how fast he went back to skinny white girls. That didn’t seem to take long at all.
The first away game that hit was terrible to watch. His head just wasn’t in it, and it was plainly obvious. Served him right, he deserved to lose a game after losing me. Get used to feeling loss, Jake; you’ll be more used to it when contract negotiations are up this year.
My phone rang after the game was over, it was Jake. He must have wanted to say something because he left me enough messages afterward. I didn’t care; I had no interest in talking or hearing from him at all. I deleted the messages before bothering to listen.
Then my phone went silent for a while.
Another away game dominated the television, and despite my anger at Jake having not subsided, I was still rooting for them. Jake made an impressive showing, barely getting away with a win. His head might not have really been in the game, but the team managed to shore up his lack of ability to play.
My phone started ringing again; it was Jake again. I picked up the phone this time.
“Hello,” I said.
“Did you see the game?”
“Yeah,” I sighed, “these are some rough away games.”
The phone was silent for a moment, even though I could hear the guys cheering in the background.
“I’ll be home in two weeks, can I see you?”
I was surprised he said so this soon.
“Fine,” I said, “but don’t expect me to be in a good mood.”
“That’s okay; I just wanted to talk and maybe get a drink.”
“You’re buying,” I said as I ended the call.
I could feel my mood beginning to improve.
7.
It wasn’t until Wednesday that I went to see my doctor. I’d had morning sickness for the last few days and was getting really tired of it. She walked back into the room with a cheesy smile on her face, and I started to laugh uncomfortably.
“I suppose congratulations are in order,” she said.
“Congratulations for what,” I asked.
“You’re going to be a mother.”
I almost started choking on my own saliva when she said it.
“No, really? I don’t want to be a mother,” I said.
Her smile dissipated a bit.
“Well, if you’d like, we can discuss options for terminating the pregnancy,” she said.
“I don’t want that either,” I said, shaking my head, “I don’t know what I want. Give me some time to think about this before I do anything, would you?”