"Nothing," I responded curtly, also pulling away from her angrily. Giving Linda the benefit of the doubt in this situation was impossible. "It's just...bizarre."
"The only bizarre thing here is you attacking me!" Linda yelled. "Why would you even think so lowly of me? I would never do a thing like that!"
It was funny how everything she said just drove me closer and closer to the edge, and my patience thinned out. The best thing Linda could do for both of us was to shut the hell up, and this might become a more bearable morning. "It's okay, let it be." I climbed out of bed and I responded without looking at her.
"No, it's...not! It's not okay! Don't walk out on me! Why did you think I did it?!"
"Because right before my f*cking eyes, Linda, you handed Alma a bouquet of hibiscus! That...is one step closer to murder, so forgive me if I think circulating these pictures is the smallest of your feats," I barked at her angrily, too irritated to even look at her. "If you say you didn't do it, then fine, you didn't. So drop the topic and let us, please, have a peaceful morning!"
She slumped back to the bed and started to weep so loudly that it pricked my brain. This was what I had to put up with. Linda buried her face in her hands, muttering incoherent words that I couldn't comprehend until I moved closer to her.
"This is what I get as a pregnant woman! Accusations and angry outbursts," she lamented. "How can I even grow a healthy baby if we're always like this, Carl?"
My point exactly. In that case, we should separate, but Linda didn't seem to like that idea very much.
"We need to be better, Carl! We need to be good to each other, or this cannot work out!"
Great, I...didn't want it to. I sat next to her and patted her shoulders without words. Anything I said at that moment would turn out to be a lie, so I'd rather not.
See AlsoMove Over, Herogasm; 'The Boys' Just Topped Itself With This NC-17 MomentJoel Chandler Harris' life of Henry W. Grady including his writings and speechesFebruary | 2017 | Common Errors in English Usage and MoreOrthodoxy - Christian Classics Ethereal LibraryLinda took a deep breath after a while and looked up at me with puffy eyes. "Are you not happy that I'm pregnant?"
The question threw me in a daze, and anxiety clawed my stomach. Did I make it that obvious? I wanted a child very much. I just didn't want a child with her. "What? Of course, I am!" I lied. "I'm very happy about it. It just took me surprised, that's all."
"Are you sure?"
I nodded in the affirmative, though everything within me screamed denial. "Very. I am sure."
She smiled through the tears and leaned against my chest while both her arms wrapped around me, into a very discomforting embrace. "Thank you. I'm glad you're happy, too. I have a favor to ask. Can you come with me to the boutique? I want to do some baby shopping, but I don't want to do it alone. It will be nice to have you with me, considering we haven't been spending time together."
Hell, no! She was crazy, no doubt. "Isn't it too early for that?"
Linda shrugged, beaming. "You know what they say. The earlier, the better. Our baby deserves all the care in the world."
Hearing her say our baby created a dent in my chest. "Okay. I have a few hours to spare," I replied tersely. "Let's do it."
*
The shopping spree was immense torture to my soul. I wouldn't say I was the unromantic kind of man who hated the idea of being seen with his wife, but Linda just made it so for me. I wanted everything but to be seen with her circling the same spot over forty times to find the perfect shoe for a fetus.
It was ridiculous, but I'd rather put up with it than having to pacify her when she became a crying mess. Her presence and voice alone ate at my soul in the meanest of ways- Linda was my personal punishment.
After what seemed like years, I told her about the meeting I had and exaggerated how important it was. That was my only saving grace, not to mention- the articles were still flying around, and I needed to reach the company, so our team would know how to take care of it.
She agreed reluctantly, but all that mattered was that I didn't get stressed further. It was until I got back into my car, I released a breath I didn't even realize I'd been holding. I was deeply troubled, confused, and starved.
Starved of seeing Alma again. I needed to find a way to see her- I didn't care how that was going to happen, but it had to. Maybe the article circulation could be a good reason to see her again. I'll decide after we're done with the exhibition.
As expected, the museum was crawling with kids, although they were composed. I glanced over them for a while, and the thought of Linda's pregnancy hit me in the gut again. She was indeed pregnant- carrying a child...for me. How much more torturous could that my life become?
This had to be a curse. I blinked those thoughts and stowed away, heading down the hallway when I saw a little kid staring at one of the paintings hung on the wall. A kid shouldn't be here, except she'd managed to slip away from the others somehow, and as I walked closer, the face became more recognizable.
Alma's daughter? My brows shot up, and I immediately walked up to her, in shock and confusion. What sort of coincidence was this? I crouched next to her, smiling. "Hey, kid. What are you doing back here?"
Her eyes bulged as she turned to me. Vibrant green eyes that felt all too familiar. I was suddenly unsettled and incredibly nervous before this child, as I was before her mother.
"Shhh!" She placed her index finger on her lips as she looked past me. "This is where the good stuff is, but my teacher wouldn't show us that, so I came here on my own!"
Hilarious. Feisty. Just like her mother. God! What was this feeling? I chortled. "So you came to check out the paintings by yourself?"
"I can't tell you the details. My mum said not to talk to strangers!"
"But I'm here for the good stuff, too," I added, desperation filling me to make a good impression. "I know a lot about this museum, and I can tell you all you need to know. Which means, we can be friends?"
She glanced at me again, and looking into her eyes felt like looking into a mirror. My heart violently pulsated in my chest, and I was tempted to lean in and hug her.
"Rodney does, too..."
Rodney? "Who's Rodney?"
"My best friend," she clasped her hands around her chest. "I'm here to memorize these names, so I can be smarter than him. He thinks...I'm a very little girl."
How well-spoken was she? I could sit here all day and hear her talk, just listen to her. I didn't matter what she did, I'd spend all the time in the world here. "What's your name?"
"Velma..." she eyed me. "I think I've seen you somewhere."
"Maybe on TV?" I shrugged. I didn't want her to remember where she'd seen me just yet. I couldn't afford to ruin this. "You have a very beautiful name, Velma. My name is Carl."
"Nice to meet you, Carl..." she immediately turned to the painting she'd been gawking at. "Do you work here, Carl?"
I was beaming so hard. "Yeah, I do! My job is cool, you see? Do you mind if I show you all the coolest paintings?"
"Yes, please!"
"Alright then!" I ruffled my hair. "Let's start by making your teacher aware that you're safe, then your special tour begins."
