He’s Not Yours

This Was Not A Part Of The Plan.

Derry’s POV.

Everything is going to plan. Simon is letting me make regular payments to our wedding planner, ‘Sophie’. With a little help from Simon's mum, I managed to convince him to get the top tier package. Meaning all suppliers are booked and paid for via the wedding planner. Of course none of the suppliers have actually been booked and all the money is secure for when I need it. With Simon already owning the venue I can’t add that to the bill, but everything else is being paid to her. All bank transfers have been sent to ‘Elegant occasions’ and so far he has not suspected that anything is wrong. I’d love to see the look on his face when he realises what I’ve done and that he’s paid all my money back to me, but I need to be long gone by then. With just 6 weeks to the wedding I need to grab every penny I can from him. I plan to leave 2 days before the wedding. I did want to leave on the day of the wedding, standing him up at the altar, but he’d notice something wasn’t right when the wedding suppliers didn’t start arriving to get set up the day before. I have slowly been selling our clothes online, not enough for him to notice, but it’s added over £300 to my escape fund and every penny will help until I get settled and find a job.

I’ve just stashed my latest batch of parcels to post under the kitchen sink when I hear Simon making his way down the stairs. I quickly busy myself preparing breakfast when he walks into the kitchen and looks me up and down.

“Don’t you think you should maybe start skipping breakfast? I’m not sure you will fit in your wedding dress if you don’t do something about your weight,” he says, leaning around me to steal my toast. I glance down at myself, stroking my hands over my stomach. It’s definitely not as flat as usual, but I’ve been suffering with bloating lately, which I put down to stress. I didn’t think it was that noticeable though.

“I have been having some stomach issues recently but thanks for pointing it out,” I huff.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you babe, but we don’t want you fat for the wedding, do we? I’ll call the doctor, I’m sure there’s a pill they could give you to make you skinny again,” he shrugs.

“You don’t need to do that, I’ll put in some extra sessions at the gym if it bothers you so much,”

“Good idea babe, I have a meeting. I’ll see you tonight.” He says, giving me a kiss on the cheek and walking out. I stand alone in the kitchen, fighting back the tears as I repeat my new mantra “Simon doesn’t deserve my tears.” I close my eyes and Hawk is already there, as he always is when I need him. A warm presence that fills me with courage, strength and determination. My phone dings, pulling me away from my imaginary support session with Hawk.

“Motherf***er!” I curse aloud as I read the confirmation of my appointment with the doctor in just an hour’s time.

I arrive at the doctors just in time after having rushed a shower and calling an Uber. No way I could have gotten here in time if I’d walked. The doctor calls me through to the consultation room and I sit in an awkward silence, not sure what to say.

“How can I help you today, Derry?” she asks politely.

“Well, I’m not sure if you can, but I’ve been having some stomach issues the last few weeks. Mainly bloating, nausea and heartburn. I’m planning my wedding so I think it’s just stress but my fiancé wanted me to get checked over,” I tell her, unsure what Simon had given as a reason for the appointment.

“Any vomiting?” She asks, whilst typing away on her computer.

“Occasionally,”

“Constipation?”

“A little, but it passes quickly,”

“No chance of pregnancy?”

“Nope,” I resist the eye roll because she clearly hasn’t read my medical records or she would have known that was impossible.

“Okay, hop up on the bed, I’d like to examine your stomach,” she smiles and gestures to the examination table. I do as she asks and she pushes down uncomfortably on my stomach, working her way down from my ribs to my pubic bone, then coming around the sides.

“When was your last menstrual cycle?” She asks with a hint of concern in her voice.

“I think maybe 4 months ago, I have a hormone imbalance, so they’re very irregular,”

“Are you sure? Because I may be wrong, but I’d estimate you are around 6 months pregnant,” she smiles, then and as look back at her, she seems to float away, getting smaller and smaller and then she is engulfed in darkness.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP… the incessant beeping penetrates through my sleep.

“Derry, praise the moon you’re here, I thought I’d lost you,” Hawks' frantic voice booms in my head.

“I’m okay,” I try to say, but the words come out slurred. I feel someone rubbing my arm in a comforting way.

“Welcome back honey,” the kind familiar voice soothes. I blink my eyes open, taking in my surroundings, and sit upright quickly when I remember what has happened. Vomit floods from my mouth without warning, straight into the waiting bucket the doctor is holding. She hands me some tissue and I wipe my mouth.

“Thanks, I’m sorry about that,” I gesture to the bucket.

“Not a problem my dear, it happens more often than you’d think," she winks. “Now lay yourself back down, you’ve had quite the shock and your blood pressure is a little low. An ambulance has already been called, but you’ll be just fine. We just need to get you and the baby checked out. Would you like me to call the father?”

“No,” I say a little too quickly. She eyes me suspiciously and then gives me a nod.

The paramedics arrive and I insist they let me walk myself out. They reluctantly agree. My doctor walks to the ambulance with me. I thank her and apologise again for throwing up in her room. Once I’m strapped in and wrapped in blankets to try and stop the uncontrollable shaking, we set off to the hospital, giving me time to think. The doctor must be mistaken. I was told I’d never get pregnant without hormonal treatment because of the hormone imbalance I have. I rest my hand on my stomach and close my eyes, focusing hard for any movement. Do women feel movement at this stage? 6 months? So there are only 3 months until the birth. How can I have a baby? One thing I’m certain about is Simon can not get his hands on this baby. I will never be free of him. My spiralling thoughts start making me panic.

“Breathe Derry,” Hawk speaks in my mind. “Everything will be fine, whatever it is, it will be okay,”

“I really wish this was real between us Hawk, I’m so scared and alone,” I talk back to him.

“Me too baby, if it was real I’d look after you, you’d never be scared or alone again,” he says. I feel the truth in his words. Life with imaginary Hawk would be so easy if it was true. I’m sure the real life Hawk wouldn’t be so soft and loving though. Demanding?…yes, great in bed?…Yes, but not the big cuddly teddy bear I imagine him as.

“Here we are,” the paramedic interrupts my thoughts, startling me back to reality. They hand me over to the doctors who examine me again and order blood tests and an ultrasound.