I stand in front of the mirror and examine my ever-growing stomach. Matt stands behind me, leaning against the frame of the door, and smiles. I return his smile but hold back the tears. I don’t want to be ridiculous. I am only four months gone, I have another five to go. Becoming emotional this early would mean tears for the last half of the year.
‘You think I’m huge now, wait till she’s about to come out.’ I laugh.
‘I didn’t say a word.’ Matt grins widely. ‘But, now that you mention it, you are a little round at the edges.’
I turn round and lob my make-up sponge at him. He holds his hands up in defeat and I return my attention to the mirror. Why am I so huge at this stage? I’m going to look like a whale by full term.
‘She?’ Matt is behind me now and I can see how his brow furrowed as he speaks.
‘Sorry?’
‘You said she.’
‘Did I? I suppose I just picture a girl when I think of her.’
Matt kisses me on the head and grabs his coat from the chair in our bedroom. As he puts it on, I wonder if baby brain is beginning to take over already.
‘Where are you going?’ I ask.
‘I’m going for a drink with the boys tonight. I told you earlier in the week, remember?’
I shake my head, I really don’t. But, to be fair, I did put a dirty plate in the fridge this morning instead of in the dishwasher. I got upset about it, but Matt just laughed it off. Bloody hormones.
‘Okay. I’ll see you when you get back,’ I reply.
‘Why don’t you phone Gill and see what she’s up to tonight,’ Matt says, as if he is trying to find something for me to do while he is gone.
‘I spoke to her earlier. She was heading out with some friends. To be honest, I’m happy with a night in front of the telly and a cuppa. Rock and roll, eh?’
I sigh and wrap my dressing gown around myself and follow Matt to the front door. He kisses me on the cheek and left.
Matt and I have been married for six years and have been trying to get pregnant ever since we’ve said I do. It was the thing to do as traditions in my family went. My parents, and their parents before them, were married and pregnant within the same year.
Almost six years trying to get pregnant nearly destroyed us. My mind was consumed by it, purely focused on counting days on a calendar and scheduling sex, our relationship was becoming like a chore rather than something we both wanted.
Then I missed my period, just when I’d mentally given up on becoming a mum, it just happened. Matt was over the moon and had gone out to celebrate with some of his friends and my family, including my dad.
He came home hammered and had started crying on me, saying that he didn’t deserve someone like me and that he promised to be a better husband and a brilliant dad. I put him to bed with a bucket next to him. He would often talk a load of bollocks when he was drunk. I had put it down to the fact that my pregnancy had come as such a shock and he was overwhelmed at the news of becoming a dad.
My mobile rings and I lift it from the table in the hallway. It’s Gill, likely checking to see how I’m feeling.
‘Hi Gill.’
‘Hey, how you feeling?’ I smile. We’d had this conversation an hour ago.
‘I’m the same as I was the last time we spoke. Shouldn’t you be out on Jane’s hen do?’
‘Aye, but can’t a girl check on her sister? Anyway, I’m not sure I can stomach old Val straddling the stripper.’ She laughs loudly and I hold the phone away from my ear.
‘You don’t have to phone me every five minutes to check up on me. I’m pregnant, I’m not dying,’ I say, walking to the kitchen to see what there is to eat.
‘I know you’re not. Anyway, make sure that husband of yours is looking after you tonight.’
‘He’s going out with the boys tonight,’ I reply, pulling a quiche from the fridge and turning on the oven.
‘Really? Oh well, a night in front of the telly with your feet up won’t do you any harm. Got to go, taxi’s here. Love you. Bye.’ I hear a group of women screaming in the background just as she hangs up. I’m glad I’m not part of that hen night, I’m done with crazy nights out and deathly hangovers. I place my hand on my belly and give it a little rub. That is all I need right there, my little bundle.
I go into the lounge, sit down on the couch and turn on the television. I flick through the channels for a bit before getting up to check on the quiche. As I walk past the table which sits next to the window, I notice that Matt has left his mobile. I shake my head and make for the kitchen when it beeps. I pick it up and see that he has a text message from Gavin.
I begin typing a reply.
I put the phone back on the table. Gavin never replies. Probably didn’t see the point if he wasn’t going to get a hold of the intended recipient that was my forgetful husband. How he managed to leave his mobile behind is beyond me, the thing is never out of his hand.
I wake up with the sound of Matt’s key in the front door and the sound of him falling into the house. I look at the time on my phone; it is almost four in the morning. I roll my eyes and turn over, hoping that I can fall back asleep and he won’t wake me with his stupid stories about which of his mates got so drunk they had to be carried home. I hear him crashing around and am going to get up to see if he is okay when I hear him beginning to speak. He is doing that thing men do when they’re drunk and thinking they’re being quiet when they are being anything but.
‘I’m sorry I had to leave you on your own tonight, but if I stay out it’ll just raise suspicion.’ Silence for a moment. ‘I can’t believe I left my phone here. It’s a good thing I saved your number under someone else.’ More silence. ‘I’m so fucking careless.’ I hold my breath as I strain to listen to what he will say next. ‘It’s fine, she won’t suspect anything, but I’ll be more careful. Might even get a second phone. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow? Okay, bye.’
I lay there, motionless. The room is in darkness and now that Matt has stopped talking, all I can hear is my heart thudding against the wall of my chest.
I feel sick. I sit up and run my hands through my hair. I want to go to him and let rip that I’d heard his conversation. But I can’t move. I can’t think.
There is only one reason why he would need to get a second phone. I just don’t want to admit it. He is doing the unthinkable. He is having an affair. And I am pregnant with his child.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
How could he do this?
Don’t cry, don’t let him see you cry. He can’t know that I heard him.
I hear him approach the bedroom and I lay down quickly and shut my eyes, pretending to be asleep, tears burning my eyes as I try to shut out the world around me.
It’s strange how one single moment can lead to such catastrophic events, changing the entire course of your life. I’m not so sure who is entirely to blame for what happens next.