Forget Regret
Fifty; Genetic (FINAL CHAPTER)
"You're late." My shoot manager said coolly as I walked into the office one Tuesday afternoon.
"I know, I know. I got caught up with Mike." I apologized.
"You're with child, aren't you?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Excuse me?"
"Forgive me." He said quickly. "I only. .. You're glowing. You certainly look larger than usual, but I mean no offense by that."
"You think I'm. . . pregnant?!" I choked out.
"Go home, Charley. You won't be modeling for about nine months." He replied.
I picked up my bag. "Asshole."
**
"Baby! I'm home!" Mike called. He was early. I slammed my laptop shut and wiped my eyes.
"Hi." I smiled as he walked into our bedroom.
"How are you?" He kissed my forehead.
"Lovely. How was your day?" I asked.
"I played the drums all day. So, just like every other day." He smiled. "Now tell me what's wrong. I know you too well for you to pretend."
"It's nothing." I sighed.
"Charley."
"I can't tell you. You'll hate me so much." I bit my lip.
"Now you know I could never hate you. You ought to hate me after everything we've been though, but you still love me now don't you?" He replied.
"Mike. . ." I argued, but I could feel myself letting go.
"Come on." He urged.
"What if. . . What if we had a baby?" I asked uneasily.
"What if we had a baby?" Mike repeated. "You know I want a baby. I want five babies. I want twelve babies. I don't care, as long as they're with you."
"You can't possibly mean that." I said.
"You know damn well I do." Mike said shortly.
"Not with me, I mean. I just. . ." I tried to find the words I'd been searching for. "I just read about this study, Mike, and this. . this thing in my mind. The eating disorder, the depression. They think it could be genetic. If we had a baby. . . I could pass it on. And I couldn't possibly do that to our baby."
"What are you trying to tell me?" Mike asked carefully.
I sighed. "Mike, I'm pregnant."
THE END
"I know, I know. I got caught up with Mike." I apologized.
"You're with child, aren't you?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Excuse me?"
"Forgive me." He said quickly. "I only. .. You're glowing. You certainly look larger than usual, but I mean no offense by that."
"You think I'm. . . pregnant?!" I choked out.
"Go home, Charley. You won't be modeling for about nine months." He replied.
I picked up my bag. "Asshole."
**
"Baby! I'm home!" Mike called. He was early. I slammed my laptop shut and wiped my eyes.
"Hi." I smiled as he walked into our bedroom.
"How are you?" He kissed my forehead.
"Lovely. How was your day?" I asked.
"I played the drums all day. So, just like every other day." He smiled. "Now tell me what's wrong. I know you too well for you to pretend."
"It's nothing." I sighed.
"Charley."
"I can't tell you. You'll hate me so much." I bit my lip.
"Now you know I could never hate you. You ought to hate me after everything we've been though, but you still love me now don't you?" He replied.
"Mike. . ." I argued, but I could feel myself letting go.
"Come on." He urged.
"What if. . . What if we had a baby?" I asked uneasily.
"What if we had a baby?" Mike repeated. "You know I want a baby. I want five babies. I want twelve babies. I don't care, as long as they're with you."
"You can't possibly mean that." I said.
"You know damn well I do." Mike said shortly.
"Not with me, I mean. I just. . ." I tried to find the words I'd been searching for. "I just read about this study, Mike, and this. . this thing in my mind. The eating disorder, the depression. They think it could be genetic. If we had a baby. . . I could pass it on. And I couldn't possibly do that to our baby."
"What are you trying to tell me?" Mike asked carefully.
I sighed. "Mike, I'm pregnant."
THE END
PLEASE DO A SEQUEL I NEED IT
IM CRYING BECAUSE THERE ISNT ONE
5/29/15