Our Way

“What?” I frown.

“Your fucking birthcontrol pills. Where are they?”

“What?” I frown as I climb out of bed, still half asleep. “What are you doing?”

He grabs my makeup purse and scurries through it. The makeup falls everywhere.

My new blush falls on the floor and smashes everywhere.

“You’re breaking things,” I cry.

He pulls out the little foil packet and studies it closely.

“What are you doing?” I whisper as I begin to panic.

“What is this?” He holds it in the air.

“What?”

“Where is your fucking period, Eliza?” His eyes search mine.

My face falls.

“You haven’t had one since we’ve been together. Where is it?” He studies the packet again. “This says here you were supposed to get your period on Saturday. It’s fucking Tuesday, Eliza.” He screams as he holds the packet up in the air. “You’re late?” The veins are sticking out of his forehead in anger. He’s completely lost control.

“Nathan, calm down.”

“How the fuck can I calm down?” He screams. “Heaven forbid that I should take up residency in your fucking uterus.” He looks at me and shakes his head in disgust. “Or are you already pregnant? Should I go to the bar to hear about this, too?”

My eyes well with tears. He’s so hurt. “It’s coming,” I whisper. “It’s my first month on the pill. I swear, my period is coming. My hormones are adjusting, that’s all.”

He throws the pill packet at me. “Get yourself to a doctor.” He marches out and I hear the front door slam behind him.

The apartment falls deathly silent again.

He’s gone.

I put my head into my hands, and my heart drops.

Fuck.

* * *

I sit at my desk and stare at the computer. I feel sick. My stomach is a ball of nerves. In ten years, I’ve never seen Nathan like that before. He was so angry—so hurt.

How do we get over this? What do I say to fix this?

And where is my period? Why is it late? I did everything right. I took the pill every day at the same time. I waited the time before I had sex. How long was it?

Fucking Jolie. I’m going to kill her with my bare hands. But I know I can’t blame her. This is my fault, and Nathan has every reason to be furious with me.

Please, don’t let me be pregnant.

This is not the way I want to have a child.

I can’t be. I did everything right. The doctor told me that I would be protected after a week, and I waited for that time. I go through my diary and work out when I went to the doctor. I count through on my calendar and count the days. It was actually two weeks to the day, before Nathan and I had unprotected sex.

My phone buzzes in front of me. The name Jolie lights up the screen. I look around guiltily, stuff it, I want to talk to her and give her a piece of my mind.