This Man Confessed

‘Ava! Good to see you.’ Doctor Monroe is probably one of the nicest women I have ever met—early fifties, a little bit of middle age spread and a sharp blonde bob. She has all the time in the world for you… normally. She wasn’t so pleased when I presented myself for the third time to replace my lost pills.

‘And you, Doctor.’ I reply nervously, as I perch myself on the end of a chair.

She looks concerned. ‘Are you okay? You look a bit green.’

‘I’m fine, I just feel a bit icky. It’s probably the heat.’ I fan my face. It’s even hotter in here.

‘Are you sure?’ she asks, genuinely concerned.

I feel my chin start to tremble, only serving to increase the concern on her round features. ‘I’m pregnant!’ I blurt. ‘I know you’ll give me a hard time about the pills, but I really don’t need it, so please don’t make me feel any worse. I know I’m a fool.’

Her concern transforms into sympathy immediately. ‘Oh, Ava.’ She reaches for my hand, and I feel like I could cry harder, her empathy only making me feel like even more of a hopeless fool. ‘Here.’ She hands me a tissue, and I blow my nose nosily. ‘When was your period due?’

‘Today.’ I answer swiftly.

Her eyes widen. ‘Only today?’ she asks. I nod. ‘Ava, what makes you so certain. Your period can be a few days late, just as it can be early.’

‘Trust me, I know.’ I sniffle. I’m no longer in denial, and I’m facing this head-on. My emotions are all over the place.

She frowns and reaches into her drawer. ‘Take this to the toilet.’ she says, handing me a pregnancy test.

I very nearly ask if I can do the test in her office, but with the absence of a toilet, I quickly realise the problem, so leaving Doctor Monroe’s office, I peek down the corridor to the waiting area and see Jesse’s back. He’s still sitting down, but he’s leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees with his head in his hands. I don’t dwell on his obvious despair and walk quickly into the ladies.

Five minutes later, I’m back with my Doctor and staring at the test, which is neatly positioned at the other end of her desk. She taps away on her keyboard while I frantically tap my foot on the floor. I hold my breath when she reaches over and picks the test up, looking down at it briefly before turning her eyes on me.

‘Positive,’ she says simply, holding it up for me to see myself. I knew it would be, but the confirmation makes it even more of a reality, and it also enflames the hurt and madness that has brought me to this point in my life.

I can’t seem to cry, though. ‘I want a termination.’ I say clearly, looking straight into Doctor Monroe’s eyes. ‘Can you please make the arrangements?’

I watch as she visibly sags in her chair. ‘Ava, of course, this is your decision, but it’s my job to give you the options.’

‘Which are?’

‘Adoption, support. There are many single mothers out there who manage just fine, and with your parent’s support, I’m certain you’ll be well looked after.’

I cringe. ‘I want a termination.’ I repeat, ignoring all of her advice and sincerity. She’s absolutely right, though. I would be looked after by my parents… if I was single. But I’m not. I’m married.

‘Right,’ she sighs, ‘Okay, you’ll need a scan to determine how far gone you are.’ She starts re-tapping away on her keyboard, while I sit feeling small and stupid. ‘I’m prescribing some more pills so once you’ve sorted yourself out, you can make sure you keep protected. The hospital will give you plenty of information with regards to aftercare and side effects.’

‘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 say again, because I don’t know what else to say.

‘Take care, Ava.’

I leave her office and prop myself up against the wall outside. I feel sicker all of a sudden.

‘Ava! What’s the matter?’ He’s at my side in a heartbeat, his voice spiked with panic. He hunkers down in front of me to get to my eye level. ‘Jesus, Ava.’

A sweat breaks out across my forehead and my mouth is invaded with saliva. I know 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. I brace my hands on the seat and ignore the compulsion to wash my hands immediately. Jesse’s big, warm palm is gently circling my back as I heave, and he pulls my hair out of the way.

‘I’m fi…’ My stomach convulses again, and I let rip another evacuation. I crouch and slump in front of the toilet, resting my head on my arm. Why the hell do they call it morning sickness when it hits you randomly throughout the day? I hear the door to the ladies open.

‘Oh dear, should I get you some water?’ It’s Doctor Monroe. If I had the energy, I would be concerned that she’s found Jesse with me in the toilets.

‘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 sick.

‘It’s okay, we can stay. Are you okay?’