You Don't Own Me(126)

I shake my head. ‘Yes, it’s true that all my life, I’ve been spoilt and given everything I’ve ever wanted. All I had to do was ask for it and it appeared. And I lived like a princess, untouched by suffering, never giving more than a passing thought to all the misery in this world: the starving children in Africa, the wretched Palestinians in the Gaza strip, the pitiful child slaves in China who make my fashionable trainers, and the countless abuses that goes on in this big, unfair world. But, you see, I’ve never been asked to make a difference. I never even thought I could. This is the first time I am being asked. I know it’s a big ask, but I’m up to it.’

‘Who do you think you are now? Fucking Buddha?’

‘I don’t think that. I just know this baby came to me. And I’m not killing it.’

‘So you’re going to let it kill you instead?’ he asks.

‘It’s not written in stone that I’ll die if I have this baby. Doctors can be wrong. I’m going to do everything in my power to be well.’

‘And how are you going to do that?’ he snaps.

‘I’m going to take all the holistic measures I can to keep the cancer at bay until the baby is big enough to survive outside my body. While Lily was pregnant I found out a lot from her about eating well and how the right foods and herbs can cure and keep at bay so many diseases. And during Lily’s confinement period, I learned even more from her grandmother.’

‘This is pure madness. You’re talking about using herbs to fight cancer!’

‘Don’t twist my words. My plan is more far reaching than you are making it out to be.’

‘I won’t let you, Layla.’

‘You can’t stop me, BJ. No one can. My mind’s made up.’

‘What if this was happening to me? How would you feel then?’

I frown. I had not given it a thought. ‘To be honest, I would probably react the way you are, but the thing is, I’m not you. I’m me, Layla. The only person this baby has fighting its corner. He chose me to be his mother. To live inside me until he is able to survive in this world on his own, and I’m not turning my back on him.’

‘I don’t want this baby without you,’ he snarls suddenly.

Both my hands rush to cover my stomach protectively, as if he has administered a blow to my unborn child.

He shakes his head sadly. ‘I couldn’t love him, Layla. Not if he kills you. Every time I’d see him, I’d know you’re not here because of him.’

I smile. ‘You know what, I’m not afraid you won’t love him. You will. Because he is a part of you and me.’

He closes his eyes. When he opens them they are pained. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t do this, Layla. Other men may be able to do it because they don’t love their wives the way I love you. I just can’t. I can’t stand by and watch you throw your life away, not even my own child. I can’t choose him over you. I can’t. I just can’t. And you can’t fucking ask me to.’

‘All we have to do is hold on for another three months. Actually, it’s not even three months. It’s only 77 days before he will be 25 weeks and can be safely delivered via cesarean section.’

‘You don’t have three months. Don’t you get what aggressively malignant means? It would have eaten into you by then. You need to cut it out now or it will be too late.’

‘I know I can hold on for 77 days. We’ll make a calendar and cross the days off together, OK?’

He looks up to the ceiling and exhales. ‘Don’t try and pacify me, Layla. You can’t. I feel all torn up. I couldn’t care for this child … not without you. You’ll be giving birth to an orphan.’

I put my finger on his lips. ‘Shhh … don’t speak anymore. I want to call our baby Tommy.’

He buries his head in his hands and I put my hand on his head running my fingers through the silky black hair.

‘I hope he has black hair,’ I whisper.

He says nothing.

‘I hope he looks like you.’

His body jerks.

‘I love you, BJ.’

He looks up at me bitterly. ‘Fuck you, Layla.’

‘I love you, BJ.’

‘With a love like yours, I don’t need enemies,’ he cries in an anguished voice, and strides out of the room.

I hear him run down the steps, then the front door slams. I turn to the window and see him rush towards his car. He opens his car door and suddenly looks up at me. We stare at each other. He drags his eyes away, slamming his car door and speeding away, the wheels spinning on the gravel.

I sit on the windowsill to wait for him.