His heart stopped, his eyes widened, the milk he was drinking made an unexpected come back through his nose as he struggled to comprehend what she just said. Coughing and desperately trying to tell himself he was still asleep he tried to clean himself. You what?! he said in disbelief.
William!, Elizabeth exclaimed as if worried and tapped his back. Are you alright? It's too early to tell, but you might become a father! Shouldn't you be happy?
The logical part of his mind, which by now had been buckling under the weight of trying to keep chaos at bay finally failed. His heart, now no longer suspended in trance, beated harder and faster than it did before. Fatherhood the mere mention of it's name caused existential dread in the man who was normally reserved and calm. I....but...it.. he stammered as his hands trembled and he struggledto get a hold of himself.
True, he did want children, but like this? No. She was not married and he refused to contemplate the idea of an abortion, as if it was his decision to make. A child...His child. A number of choice words ripped through his mind in some attempt to define the situation, 'Happiness' was not one of them. We...can't. He finally managed to get out. There was only one possible solution to his problem. He knew it, try as he might to pretend otherwise, it was increasingly looking like this was the only way out. Yet in his panic, he completely failed to assess how she felt about the situation.
Elizabeth's energetic smile deflated like a phony battle tank that got punctured. You were the first of your family that I met, and ever since then, your person has remained engraved in my thoughts. I suppose I was captivated by the manners and the... maturity. You would be a wonderful father, William, I would choose no other. Unknown to her, tapping William's back loosened the bandage over her right forearm that was well hidden under the black sleeve. She left a stain of blood on the white table sheet.
Unexpectedly, the rational side of his brain engaged at long last. He launched into his argument at full speed, finally regaining some degree of control over his thoughts Elizabeth, we are not married and the only acceptable way for this arrangement to work to become such. Now I'm not going to deprive you of a perfectly normal and caring relation.....what the hell? He said, noticing red on the table cloth. He ran his finger over the red stain, noticing it was wet before he licked it.
Blood.
He looked at her with concern and stood to investigate You're bleeding, where are you hurt?...come sit down
He frowned at her, unhappy at her desperate attempt to deflect the conversation back toward last night when she was obviously hurt. He stood up and walked toward her, Elizabeth, it's not 'nothing' let me see
Elizabeth let William have a look at her right arm, but she hid the left. The cut was long way. I cut myself yesterday, on a... on a broken peace of that teapot.
He looked her in the eye, not buying a word of what she was trying to sell. Is that why it's still bleeding? I'm not doctor my dear but I'm not a fool. Show me your other arm, please. His mind now refocused on the task at hand. A woman was hurt, a woman he knew and was responsible for. Pregnant or not it didn't matter. Why she insisted in hiding from him he did not know, maybe she was afraid she would look 'mortal' in his eyes, or maybe she didn't want to show weakness or vulnerability. Whatever the reason for her hiding, it wasn't working.
Lighthearted coquetry abandoned Elizabeth's spirit and the couple suddenly found themselves overcast by the monumental heaviness under a frigid bell of severity. Perceiving no exit, she surrendered her left, that is, her main arm, reluctantly and slowly, which now exhibited a gentle quiver. She didn't roll up the sleeve, but William did, and he revealed another long laceration, identical to the one on the right. Elizabeth, displaying shame for the first time in William's eyes (was this another act!?), tried to excuse herself, but refused to look him in the eyes: I had... was... Have you... ever had thoughts about how... superfluous I... you are?