“Thank you,” I murmur, taking the prescription from her. She doesn’t release it immediately, and I look up at her.
“You know where I am, Ava.” She looks at me questioningly, obviously doubting my decision, so I offer a small smile to reinforce that I really am fine, that I’m making the right choice.
“Thank you,” I repeat, because I don’t know what else to say. I leave her office and prop myself up against the wall outside, feeling sicker and hotter.
“Ava! What’s the matter?” He’s at my side in a heartbeat, his voice spiked with panic. He hunkers down to get to my eye level. “Jesus, Ava.”
A sweat breaks out across my forehead and my mouth is suddenly invaded with saliva. I’m going to throw up. I dart across the corridor and crash into the ladies’, then proceed to eject the contents of my stomach in the first toilet I find. Jesse’s big, warm palm is gently circling my back as I heave.
“I’m fi—” My stomach convulses again, and I let rip another evacuation as I crouch and slump in front of the toilet. Why the hell do they call it morning sickness when it hits you randomly throughout the day?
The door to the ladies’ opens.
“Oh dear, should I get you some water?” It’s Doctor Monroe.
“Please,” Jesse replies.
I hear the door close again and Jesse squats down behind me, cradling me from behind. “Are you done?” he asks softly.
“I don’t know.” I still feel terrible.
“We can stay. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say haughtily.
He doesn’t say anything. He takes the water from Doctor Monroe when she returns and assures her that I’m in good hands. I don’t doubt him. I always feel safe in his hands. If it wasn’t for the small problem of him being so sly and underhanded, he would be perfect. We would be perfect.
He remains crouched behind me, holding my hair back and offering me water every now and then while I compose myself. “I’m good,” I assure him as I wipe my mouth with tissue. I know there’s no more to come up. I feel empty.
“Here.” He pulls me to my feet and settles my hair down my back. “Do you want some more water?”
I take the glass from him and walk over to the sinks to wash my hands. I sip, swill, and spit to clean my mouth out, and as I look up into the mirror, I see Jesse standing behind me. He looks worried. I brush my cheeks and ruffle my hair.
“Let me take you home,” he says as he comes to stand closer.
“Jesse, I’m fine.”
He reaches around me and strokes his hand down my cheek. “Let me look after you.”
“I’m okay.” I step back and pick my bag up.
“You’re not okay, Ava.”
“Something hasn’t agreed with me, that’s all.” My hand is twitching by my side.
“For fuck’s sake, lady! You’re at the fucking doctor’s, so don’t tell me you’re fine!” He clutches at his hair and shouts as he swings his body away from me in frustration.
“I’m not pregnant,” I blurt quickly, but then suddenly contemplate the horrific thought of him not wanting me if he thinks that. My heart constricts painfully in my chest. I feel sick again.
“What?” He’s quickly facing me, his eyes shocked, his body twitching. He really does want this badly.
I fight my natural reflex, trying desperately to keep my hands by my side. “I’ve had it confirmed, Jesse.”
“Then why are you throwing up all over the place?”
“I have a bug.” My excuse is feeble, but by the look on his face, which I’m definitely not mistaking as devastation, he believes me. “You failed. My period came.”
He doesn’t know what to say. His eyes are flicking all over the bathroom, and he’s still twitching. My fear is only strengthened by his reaction to my lie. I’m confused, exhausted, and utterly heartbroken. No baby equals no Jesse. It’s all very clear now.
“I’m not happy about this. I’m taking you home where I can keep an eye on you.” He takes my hand, but I pull it away, bristling immediately at his words.
“You’re never happy with me.” I look him square in the eyes. “I’m always doing something to upset you. Have you thought that perhaps you would be less not happy without me around?”
“No!” He looks horrified “I’m worried, that’s all.”
“Well, don’t be. I’m fine,” I snap, leaving the ladies’ in a complete haze.
I walk out of the doctor’s, straight into the pharmacy and hand my prescription over the counter, then sit myself in a chair and watch as Jesse paces up and down outside with his hands shoved into his trouser pockets. Returning my body forward, I notice the pharmacist glancing up at me every now and again, and it’s then I realize that he’s probably wondering what I’m doing with all of these pills. The temptation to explain myself nearly makes me stand and approach the counter, but he calls my name, and I’m approaching to take the paper bag from him instead.