52 with cal omg
52- “I think you might be pregnant.”
Assumed you requested this after reading the “Why wasn’t I invited to your wedding” prompt with Calum and wanted them to be connected? If you didn’t mean that I did it anyway?
“Hi,” you smile subtly at the sound of your fiancé’s voice over the phone, “Are you on your lunch break?”
“Yeah, just went on it,” Nate answers, “What’s up?”
“Just calling to see how you’re feeling,” you say, leaning forward on your kitchen counter and eyeing the garbage can nearby. “I woke up so nauseated this morning, and I thought it might have been from the sushi we had last night.”
“Hm,” Nate hums, “Well I’m fine. Maybe you’re getting the flu?”
“Maybe. I don’t feel like I’m sick, though.”
“Huh,” he huffs in deep thought. “Babe, when’s the last time you got your period?”
The warmth drains from your face and your entire bloodstream runs cold. You’ve noticed that you were running later than usual, but didn’t let yourself think much of it. The birth control you’re on already causes you to have less periods throughout the year, and you figured stress from all the wedding planning was enhancing the irregularity.
“And didn’t you say your back’s been hurting lately?” Nate adds.
Your hand mindlessly touches your lower back where it’s been sore on and off for the past few weeks. “Yeah…”
There’s a short pause in the conversation that feels like an eternity.
“You know your body better than I do,” Nate finally speaks again, “But I don’t know, Y/n, I think you might be pregnant.”
You nod slowly, having similar thoughts now that he pointed the possibility out. Your heart starts to hammer against your chest, trying to reheat your body with a faster beat.
“Y/n?” Nate asks when you don’t say anything. “Are you okay?”
You clear your throat. “Yeah, yeah I’m…” The last of your sentence trails off.
“You don’t sound okay.”
“I’m just thinking.”
“Well don’t worry about anything yet,” he instructs. “I’ll be off in a few hours, and I’ll pick up a test on my way over. We’ll take it together. That sound good?”
“Uh huh,” you croak.
“Alright babe, just… hang in there. Everything will be fine,” he says, sounding perfectly stable and not at all as scared as you. “Even if you are, ya know, at least we’re already getting married, right?”
“Yeah,” you laugh weakly. What he considers a good thing could end up being the worst part about this whole situation.
“I’ll see you in a little bit, then. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” your voice is barely a whisper when you hang up the phone. You run a frustrated hand through your hair, cursing the world for its sick method of teaching morals. Without a second thought your fingers start to dial another number in a hurry. Putting your phone on speaker and placing it on the counter, you walk to the other side of the room to grab your coat and bag.
“Are you home?” You jump right in, tugging the coat over your shoulders.
“I’m coming over.”
“Be there in thirty,” you announce, then end the call.
If they weren’t so numb, your knuckles would hurt from the effort you put into knocking on his door. Your heels bounce up and down as you wait for it to open, and you glance down the hallway to distract yourself from the painfully long seconds it takes for him to answer.
Calum stands in the threshold, shirtless and wearing gym shorts regardless of the half an hour he had to get dressed. He looks neither pleased or upset to see you, and stands to the side as you grant yourself permission to come into his apartment.
“Some nerve,” Calum says, closing the door behind you, “coming over uninvited like this.”
You realize he’s joking but you’re in no mood to humor him.
“I need to do something,” you begin. “I need to do it here.”
He narrows his eyes at you, not following along. “What’s wrong?”
You rub your lips together nervously, unable to look directly at him.
“We didn’t use a condom… on that night.”
“I know,” he says, “but you were on birth control.”
“Well I don’t think it worked.”
His face drops in the same way that yours did when you first thought about the idea.
“You’re pregnant?” he asks quietly.
“I don’t know yet.” You pull a plastic bag out of your purse. “I have a test.”
“Why didn’t you take it before you told me?”
“Because I couldn’t–” Your voice cracks, and you’re surprised at how emotional you’re getting. “Nate doesn’t get off until later tonight, and I’m supposed to wait for him but I can’t wait that long, and I didn’t-I didn’t want to do it by myself.”
“Okay, okay,” Calum says softly, walking toward you. “Do it here.”
“Thank you.” You squeeze his hand and rush to the master bathroom, pulling him along behind you.
He waits on his bed as you lock yourself inside to take the test. As you’re doing it you look around the bathroom and notice all of the little changes that have happened since you stopped coming around to Calum’s. The small wash clothes that used to hang on the towel rack to decorate the bigger towels are no longer there. The window ledge that used to be lined with all of your hair and skin care products now only holds two bottles of Calum’s soap and shampoo. The counter that he used to always complain about your makeup taking up too much space is cleared of pretty much everything except his toothbrush and hair gel. It looks vacant, and unlived in, and it breaks your heart to think of Calum starting his mornings alone.
When you’re finished, you replace the cap and fold up a few squares of toilet paper to set the pregnancy test on while it evaluates the state of your body; then you unlock the door and find Calum sitting anxiously on his bed.
“Now we wait,” you say, crossing the floor to take a seat beside him.
“Jesus,” he sighs.
You’re both silent for a moment, distracted by a hundred thoughts at once.
“If it’s positive,” Calum eventually starts, “we don’t know for sure that it’s mine.”
You nod, his statement only reinforcing how shit you feel about yourself. Another despaired sound resonates from Calum’s throat, and you get the sense that he’s trying to dig through his brain to find the right pairing of words for what he’d like to say next.
“I’d want it to be, though.”
Stunned, you turn your head to look at him. “Really?”
He stares at the carpet on the floor, gnawing on his bottom lip. “It’d stop you from marrying Nate.”
His words feel like a knife in your chest. You and Calum had broken up so long ago, and remained such good friends afterward that it surprises you to hear him admit how strong his old feelings still are.
“I know it’s fucked up, but honestly Y/n, I don’t think I’m ever gonna get over you.”
“What if it’s his baby?”
Calum’s knuckles crack as he clenches his fists.
“I hope it’s negative,” you think out loud.
“And if it is?” he asks. “We just pretend like this never happened, too?”
You shrug sadly. “I don’t know.”
He forces a deep breath from his lungs and leans back on his elbows, out of your vision. Something touches your back and you realize it’s his hand when his fingers start tracing soothing circles against your shirt. You peer over your shoulder to find him laying down, his eyes focused on the task of his fingers. He’s angry at you, he’s heartbroken because of you, and yet he’s still trying to make you feel better.
The acknowledgment washes over you, and you scoot closer to him. You grab his hand and hold it out of the way as you lie back, resting your head on his bare chest and letting his arm drape over your shoulders. He glances at you briefly before accepting your initiation, wrapping his other arm around your waist and tangling his legs with yours to deepen the embrace. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, and you close your eyes as you bring one hand up to cup the back of his head. His hair feels soft between your fingers. You can hear his every breath as he takes in your scent and the surreal fact that he’s actually holding you again.
No words are exchanged, and it’s better that way. Your nails lightly scratch the muscles in his back as he grips at the material of your shirt, and you both feel like you’ve been reunited with a comfort that you two have only ever felt with each other.
Seconds turn to minutes, and as much as you’d like to ignore the world in Calum’s arms for a little while longer, it’s time to check the test. You pull away from him gently but never fully break contact, latching onto his wrist as you both sit up. His large hand cups around your knee and gives it an encouraging squeeze. You reluctantly stand from the bed and walk into the bathroom.
Calum rests his elbows on his legs, watching you anxiously, selfish thoughts lapping through his mind. He doesn’t know which results he’d rather hear. If you’re pregnant there’s a chance the baby is his; it’d be his ticket to win you back. But at the same time there’s the chance that it’s Nate’s, and then Calum would not only have to let you marry the guy, but watch you start a family with him as well. If you’re not pregnant, then things just go back to how they were. You’ll still be engaged to another man, and Calum will still have to keep your secrets—but at least you won’t be carrying Nate’s child, and for some reason that gives Calum hope.
Your nerves are on edge as you pick up the test. Your eyes immediately shoot to the side that displays the outcome in the form of little pink lines.
“Well?” Calum pipes up from the bed.
You shift to face him, your expression unreadable to match the uncertainty of how you feel toward the results. Not long ago you announced your preference, but you’ve never had to react to news like this before.
“It’s negative,” you tell him, the words tasting strange on your tongue.
Calum nods to mask his own internal debate. “Are you okay with that?”
You saunter back over to him, feeling dazed from the emotional work up to such an anticlimax. He takes the test from you and reads it himself.
“Before I saw it—like, right before,” you ramble, “I-I changed my mind.”
“I didn’t want it to be negative,” you confess. “I wanted to be pregnant–”
His heart accelerates. He locks his brown irises on you, hanging on to your every word, desperately trying to predict what you’ll say next, but waiting without interruption.
“–and I wanted it to be yours.”