Bumped and all alone

By Foxy

Foxy and her ex are tormented by the consequence of a fleeting moment of pleasure. What they cannot agree on is how it happened…

"How did it happen?" he asked looking at me. He was really looking at me, for the first time since I got to his house.

"Si we used protection!" Eh! So this is how men wriggle out of pregnancy problems they have created?

"It must have slipped off or got torn or something," my words sounded hollow, like a stupid excuse. Did he think I was framing him?

"I’m told its quite common, more common than people talk about."

No response.

"I checked it after, there were no tears."

He was frowning now; a slight dimple appeared on his forehead, I fought my instinct to smooth it out like I usually did. I used to say he would get old before me, with all his frowning.

"I don’t know, maybe it was a microscopic tear. It’s just bad luck."

My ex continued staring blankly in the distance for what seemed like eternity, while I sat in his living room wondering what he was thinking.

"The timing is really bad," I said, almost to myself. My family was in the middle of a crisis in Mombasa and did not need this to compound their problems.

"If I was pregnant after we got married it would have been better," I said redundantly.

He didn’t flinch when I said ‘married’, I started to relax a little, but not much, he was unusually quiet. "Besides, I have school to complete; my job, I’m still a contractor; I’m not yet permanent."

Stand-off

I didn’t ask what my friends would think, not out loud anyway.

"I know," he said.

He remained calm, while I flustered about the way I usually did. He was the problem solver in the relationship.

The rhythm was familiar. "Nckt!" I clicked. "What do we do now?" I asked, hoping he had a solution. Quick and fast. Immediate and painless.

"I don’t know. Let me go to work. I’ll call you in the evening."

I could not believe he was going to work. He stood up, lifted his laptop and began towards the door. This was bigger than work.

"This is bigger than work!" I yelled.

My protests got me nowhere. I knew I was alone. My baby, well, my ex was no longer interested in me/us/whatever. I sat deep in thought in the matatu all the way to town, staring blankly at the passing traffic.

‘What do I do now?’ I was mumbling, the words rushed into each other. So this is how it feels to go crazy.

Emergency pill

I walked into the nearest pharmacy from the matatu stop and went to the counter. After a moments hesitation…"Give me morning after," I whispered to the sales lady.

"Ati?" she asked.

"Give me morning after" I tried again. Fatigue was catching up with me. This time she thankfully heard."

Kilonzi, patia huyu madam morning after pill!" she yelled to the back. It seemed the whole chemist turned to look at me.

"Why so loud?" I cowered with embarrassment. He wrapped it in a brown paper, but it did not help. I felt exposed to the world.

"Oh my God, Oh My God!"