Head lowered, I watch droplets of water roll down the expanse of my large belly. It still feels unreal. As if this is all some fucked up dream. Yet the irrefutable evidence is something I can’t ignore. I look like I’m ready to pop.

Staring at the stretched skin and red tendril like veins running across the sides, emotions crowd me. How can I have forgotten all this? There must’ve been joy at discovering I was pregnant. Wonder and tears at knowing a new life was being created. The first scan and discovering the sex. Sharing the news with friends and family. Crazy food cravings, pregnancy symptoms, preparing for the birth.

Slowly, I explore the changes in my body with my fingertips. My tits are bigger. More sensitive. Roaming down over my belly, I pause when I feel a strong kick.

It’s an alien sensation. One that leaves me reeling again. There’s a life growing inside me. One I should be used to by now at this stage of development.

Two heartbeats.

I’m carrying a baby.

A little girl.

Fear and awe almost suffocate me in equal measure. My chest becomes tight.

Will I be a good mother? I have no idea what kind of person I am. Do I even have a place ready to lay her when she’s born?

Spreading my fingers wide over my wet skin she answers with another kick.

Innocent.

A fierce love is born right then. The need to protect surges up so powerfully I know then I will do whatever it takes to bring her safely into this world. I may not remember when she was conceived or the months previous, but I will make up for that now.

Back aching, I shift my position to accommodate the added weight better.

Hiding away in the bathroom isn’t something I can do forever. I needed the solitude though. Ethan and his little friend haven’t given me a moments peace since we left the hospital.

They bundled me so quickly into the car I barely had time to take in my surroundings.

Releasing a long sigh, I finally switch off the shower. If I waste any more time I’m sure they’ll come find me.

Wrapped in a fluffy towel, I pause to glance at my reflection in the full-length mirror.

There is a gauntness to my face that lacks a glow. Eyes, haunted blue pools of confusion, stare back. They emphasise the paleness of my skin, framed by thick long black ebony hair, which tumbles wildly around my bare shoulders. It gives me no comfort searching the features for some recognition. A stranger is looking back. No memories of the past remind me of who I am, just a thick static in my head.

Releasing a long sigh, I look away, no longer able to bare the image. Fear tries to hold me captive, but I shake it off. I can’t afford to jump on the self-pity train.

Glance straying to the black and white photo resting at the corner of the mirror, I caress a fingertip over the little infant body. I need to be strong for her. Find some stability in this world I’ve woken up in.

Ethan is waiting for me in the luxurious bedroom which adjoins the en-suite.

“Here’s my new number. Phone me only in the case of an emergency.”

Confused at his sudden lack of clinginess he’s been exhibiting since I woke up, I hesitantly take the business card he holds out. “You’re leaving?”

“I’ve already missed an important meeting this morning and can’t afford to skip the next one. Kelly’s waiting downstairs. She’ll look after you.”

When he goes in for a kiss I turn my head so his sloppy peck lands on my cheek.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

Not bothering to wait for my reply, he leaves quickly. For someone who was fawning all over me at the hospital he seems happy to be making an escape. It’s not the kind of relationship I picture. In truth, I can’t imagine him in my life even if I could remember it.

I stare down at the card pinched between my forefinger and thumb. Envoy Consultancy. The company name rings a bell. Yet I’m not sure why.

Tossing it on the bed, I head to the wardrobe. Maybe doing something routine will stir something.

Our things are set out side by side. His immaculate suits and pristine shirts hanging opposite elegant dresses.

Every piece of clothing I find isn’t right. They’re expensive, fancy, not made for comfort which I crave.

Growling under my breath, I riffle through them until I find something with elastic to accommodate my bump. At least it’s adjustable enough to get over my hips. A pair of stretchy leggings and a tan blouse disguise my blossoming condition.

Guessing Kelly’s not the patient type, I reluctantly venture from the safety of the bedroom. The house is modern and clean. A perfect choice for a couple who want to raise a family. Still, it feels cold, lacking any warmth.

I find her in the living room. Twisting the pendant on the long chain she’s wearing around her neck, she stares off in thought out one of the windows onto the suburb street outside.

I’m tempted to leave her to it.

“Hey Sarah, how are you feeling?” She catches sight of me in the reflection and crushes my fleeting plan to escape.

“Tired, but better.”

Someone really likes beige. The colour is everywhere from the walls to the furniture. I also notice the lack of photos. None of the usual smiling snaps. Everything speaks of money and wealth.

“You had us all worried.” Looking around, she hurries to a bookshelf. “I have the wedding magazines you wanted to go through.” Carefully removing one she places it in my hands.

Wedding? Staring down at the cover of the top one, my eyes settle on the beaming image of the perfect bride wearing something virginal.

“You and Ethan have a few more months to plan, but I know you wanted to make a start. If you want to get hitched before the baby comes you can’t wait too long or you’ll end up doing it in the delivery room.”

I don’t recall any of it. It’s as if the memories have been sucked out of my head. I’m left with a blank white wall. Nothing is triggering recognition.

“I know you’ve been under a lot of stress.” She continues softly. “I’m telling you this as your friend. I think you need to slow down and let me help more, especially now that we’re housemates.”

Housemates? That means I’m never getting rid of the bitch. Hiding my disappointment, I dump the magazines on the coffee table.

“That would be great, thanks.” Smiling so hard the corners of my lips fight to regain their normal composure. I know it’s not mirrored in my eyes. I’m trying to convince her everything is perfectly fine, when it’s not. “I guess we should think about wedding invitations, right? Invite my family.”

Kelly’s face creases in a frown. “Sarah, you don’t have any family. Your parents died in a plane crash a few years back and you don’t have anyone else.”

Fuck. Guess it was expected I’d make a mistake when I’m groping in the dark for answers.

“I meant Ethan’s family.” I amend quickly. “After all, once we get hitched they’ll be mine too.”

Sinking down onto the beige sofa, she collects a writing pad and pen. “Yes, of course they will.”

Lowering myself down to join her, I tuck a pillow behind my back.

“We can make a list of what needs done.”

Nodding in agreement, I leaf through some letters that have been left on the table. Sarah Smith is written boldly on the front of them.

I note the way Kelly flinches when my hand brushes the letter opener. She’s nervous. As if she doesn’t trust me around something sharp.

Before I consider it more, a sudden bout of nausea rolls through me so fast I barely have time to react. Hand pressed to my mouth, I awkwardly wiggle to my feet and rush for the downstairs bathroom.

Heaving and retching, I remain on my knees, head over the toilet until the violent cramping passes. It robs me of my strength. Shaking, skin clammy, I stagger up onto my feet.

Morning sickness sucks like a bitch. The fact I’m dealing with it brings my predicament even more sharply into focus. I’m lucky I didn’t spill the contents of my stomach all over the hallway floor.

Relief is released in a sigh when I discover I haven’t been pursued, but left to vomit up my guts in peace.

Quietly opening and closing the door, I head back to the sitting room.

Kelly’s hushed tone is the first thing I hear.

“She seems different. I don’t know. More aware than the last six days.”

Halting in the corridor, I continue to listen.

“She’s in the bathroom throwing up.... No, I thought it was better to phone you. I still don’t understand why you had to leave this morning. We’re supposed to be here together.” Kelly sounds angry. “No, I’m not over reacting.... Fine, but I’m not cooking tonight. You can forget that crap. I’m not being paid enough to be a domestic servant, just a babysitter.”

Realizing the conversation is ending, I silently slink back into the bathroom, closing the door behind me with a soundless click.

Gripping the sink counter, I clutch it so hard my knuckles turn white. Chaos is reflected in my gaze in the mirror.

Everything about this feels more and more fake. Not my life. As if I’ve been transplanted into it.

Eyes flittering to the latch, I reach up, opening the cabinet. There’s plastic bottles, toothbrushes, then I snag on something metal.

Taking the small nail scissors, I keep them held in my palm. For some reason it’s instinctual. An action that finally makes me relax.

Until things become clearer, I need to keep alert and continue the pretence. Right now, I don’t trust anything about my reality or the people in it.