Page 134 of Checkmate
“Oh, I’m far too selfish,” she said with a delicate shrug. “I have no interest in taking care of another person who is completely reliant on me. I want to live my life for myself without taking a small child into account.”
“That’s refreshingly honest,” he said, admirably. “I think there are some parents out there that could have benefitted from admitting that to themselves before they had children.”
“Agreed,” Sophie said with a nod. “My mother is one of them. She lived vicariously through me and it sucked.”
“Sorry to hear that.” He gestured to the waitress for a refill for their table, noticing Sophie’s glass nearing empty.
“It is what it is,” she said with another shrug. “By the way, that was a bonus point for you.”
“Bonus point?” He asked, slightly perplexed. “What earned me a bonus point?”
“Asking for a refill before my glass is empty. I like someone who can anticipate my needs.”
Marcus laughed, shaking his head and giving her a crinkly-eyed smile. “Oh, Miss Sophie. You’re going to keep me on my toes, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Now, answer the question.”
Marcus leaned back in his seat, looking over at her. “I think I’d be good either way,” he said. “I don’t have this deep longing to be a dad. However, if it happened, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.”
“It won’t happen with me,” she warned. “They’re not on my agenda at all.”
“Noted.” Marcus smiled over at her as the waitress refilled their glasses. “You’re twenty-one, right? And you have your entire life figured out?” He chuckled. “Bat shit. You’re certifiable. You don’t like to just go with the flow?”
“And you’re twenty-five?” She asked. He nodded his confirmation. “I can’t imagine being five years from thirty, and not even know if I want children.” She nudged him with her foot. “Now that’s batshit.
“I am a woman who knows what she wants, Marcus.” She took a drink of her wine, regarding him over the rim of her glass. “I like things to be my way, and I will do whatever I can to make sure I get what I want.
“So. Do you think you can handle that?”
PRESENT DAY
Sophie needed this bath.
The water was the perfect temperature, mixed with bath salts that promoted reviving energy and worked to relax aches and pains. The bubbles were so plentiful, they spilled over the edge of the tub. With her favourite scented candles burning, and gentle music playing, she should have been in heaven.
Only, she had been sitting in the same position for who knew how long, her neck cricked at an awkward angle as she stared at the basket of toiletries sitting on the counter. From the side, she could just about make out the brand of her preferred sanitary products. Two tampons poked out of the basket, edging closer and closer to completely falling out.
There was nothing interesting about this basket of toiletries, nor the two wayward tampons. But they had captured her complete attention because she realised she couldn’t remember the last time she used them.
Finally, the warmth of the water left her, a chill dancing over her exposed skin. Reluctantly, she left the bath, feeling no more relaxed than when she entered. It had been a while since she needed tampons. At least eight, maybe nine weeks. Shit, for all she knew, it was closer to ten weeks. She wasn’t the greatest at keeping track of her cycle.
That meant…
She glanced down at her naked body, her stomach still flat and unassuming. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, she checked herself out, turning this way and that. She didn’t look pregnant. Giving her stomach a little prod, she wrinkled her nose. She didn’t feel pregnant.
Had she had many symptoms?
Maybe a brief bout of nausea here and there. Maybe. But that could have been the food from that new chef she tried. She told Alex the mince tasted off, but he just shrugged her off. Her boobs didn’t feel any different either, and that was a symptom too, right?
Heading through to the bedroom, still naked and dripping water across the floor, she snatched up her phone from where she left it charging. Heading to her favourite search engine, she typed three little words.
Am I pregnant?
The web page opened with over nine million hits. “That’s a lot of confused women,” she muttered to herself as she clicked on the first available link. “Okay, blah, blah, blah, different for everyone… no two people are the same, yada, yada.” Scrolling, she lingered over the symptoms.
“Nausea,” she said, reading in a whispered tone. “Sort of. Probably the mince. Increased urination? Gross, no. Constipation?” She wrinkled her nose. “Double gross, no. Tiredness, changes to boobs, cramping or bleeding. No, no. no. Oh, this is fantastic.”
She glanced through the rest of the symptoms; her smile faltering as she saw missed periods on the list.
