Ana Oliveira

Two and a half years ago...


My nausea began three months after my unprotected encounter with Josiah. It was in the middle of a Brazilian Literature class when I had to rush to the bathroom at college. Someone had opened a bag of Doritos, and the smell hit my nostrils strongly. I barely made it to the toilet, throwing up so much that I became dizzy, kneeling on the dirty floor.
When I finally managed to get up, supporting myself on the walls after flushing, the reflection I saw in the mirror startled me. There was that fake version of myself staring back with a smug smile on her lips.
"Better take a pregnancy test!" she advised, washing her hands. "I think I’m going to be promoted to stepmother..." she sang, wearing a flowing black skirt and a white tank top, as she left the bathroom.
I walked slowly to the large granite counter, turning on the metal faucet and rinsing my mouth. I didn’t even have the strength to respond to that bitch, but her words hit every broken piece of my heart. So they were a couple?
I stared at my reflection in the cracked and dirty college mirror, holding my belly. I had been pregnant for three months, having discovered it two weeks earlier. I didn’t even wait for my period to be late because I was so scared about the morning-after pill that I decided to take the test.
I stared at those two lines in shock, with Luana supporting me so I wouldn’t fall in front of the bathroom door. After the positive result on the home test, Lucah took us to a clinic where I had a blood test. I broke down when the nurse congratulated me with a wide smile. It was a gray few days during which I struggled to accept the idea of having a child with Josiah. I didn’t regret my baby; on the contrary, I learned to love him as soon as I realized he was growing inside me. But I was saddened by the moment, by the thought that my child was the product of a failed relationship.
Marta was so happy with the news that it irritated me. The "fantastic quartet" had a meeting behind my back and then confronted me, insisting I should tell Josiah about the pregnancy. I left them talking in my mother-in-law's living room and stomped back to my house. I hated how they wanted to interfere in my decisions because, even though I liked them and knew they loved me, it was my decision alone. I told them I would tell the baby's father when I felt ready because I was furious to find out from one of the construction workers that Josiah was the one building a damn house next to mine. I would have to see his face every day, closely confronting the future I had lost.
I lifted my green blouse and looked at myself in the mirror. My belly was already showing, and it would soon be hard to hide that I was pregnant. My breasts had also doubled in size, with veins running through them. I was very thin when I got pregnant, and I think that’s why my belly started showing so quickly, but with the way my weight was climbing on the scale, I would gain a lot during this pregnancy. I smoothed the bulge on my belly, giving a faint smile to the baby growing inside.
It had been three months since I last saw Josiah’s face, but as soon as I pulled my shirt down over my black leggings, I gathered the courage to tell him, before Isabela did. My heart was racing as I grabbed my phone from my black backpack and mustered the courage to dial his number.
It rang countless times, and with each new ring, my heart almost leaped out of my chest. My hands were trembling and sweating as I looked at the apathetic, stained gray walls around me.
"What do you want?" he answered rudely, just as I was about to give up.
"I...," I took a deep breath, feeling tears roll down my face. I gathered all the courage I had and spoke the words. "I’m pregnant, Josiah."
He was silent for a long time. Minutes of silence passed, and I even wondered if he had fainted on the other end. I could feel the blood running through my veins, while the nausea still coursed through me.

"Congratulations!" he said, his voice cracking, seeming choked with tears. "Want a gift at the baby shower?"
Oh my God! When Josiah hung up the phone, I realized I thought he had broken my heart when he ended our relationship, but I was wrong. He broke my heart by completely disregarding the news I had just given him. Humiliated and trying to hold back tears, I couldn’t even go back to class. I took an Uber and went home.
I ignored the doorman when he tried to hand me my mail, ignored the noises around me, everything, as I walked like a shadow towards my house. My face was a cascade of tears, and I felt even more sadness knowing that those broken emotions were being shared with the baby growing inside me.
God! How disappointed I was in Josiah... I expected everything, except him mocking the news and hanging up on me. When I reached my front door, I almost fell when I saw him standing there. He was leaning against his truck, dressed in his usual black clothes, smoking and running his hand through his hair frantically. He walked towards me and stubbed out his cigarette with the sole of his boot, but even in my sadness, I managed to turn on my heels and try to walk away from him. I preferred to turn around, aimlessly, rather than face that bastard. But Josiah grabbed my elbow and spun me around, forcing me to look at him.
There was pain in his face, tears welling up in his eyes, as he held my shoulders and examined my whole body. He looked at the neckline of my blouse, revealing the tops of my breasts, at every line on my face, at my now fuller arms, and finally his gaze settled on my belly. Josiah let go of my shoulders, startled. The next gesture disarmed me, disarmed my furious look that was tearing him apart. Josiah raised his hands and lifted my blouse, startled by the sight of my belly and swallowing a sob. I watched him raise his trembling left hand, guiding it to rest on my belly. The warmth of his skin on my stomach made me soften.
"I'm sorry for how I reacted on the phone. I thought you were messing with me... That's why I hung up," he whispered, not taking his eyes off his interest.
Bastard! I glared at him with contained hatred, thinking about how he had further shattered my heart. But I couldn’t even move his hand away from my belly because in the ultrasound I had two weeks ago, all I had dreamed of was this. For him to place his hand on the belly that held his child. I closed my eyes and absorbed his touch.
"How far along are you?" he asked, a tear rolling down his cheek.
The day was sunny, and the rays of the sun highlighted his black hair, contrasting with his angry Bad Boy image. His face, illuminated by the light, made him look so handsome...
"Three months," I said, seeing my ex-boyfriend’s face turn shocked but breaking into a slight smile, as if he were happy and relieved by what I said.
I held his hand over mine while he caressed my skin with his thumb. The gesture made my heart ache. Why did I still love that man so much? Why did my heart refuse to stop wanting him? I was a fool...
"You look so beautiful!" he complimented, looking at my face and making me smile slightly. I didn’t expect the compliment. "I always dreamed of seeing you pregnant, Ana. But you're more beautiful than I imagined. Just never, not even in my worst nightmares, did I think it would be with my brother." The blow of those words was like a knife right in the middle of my chest, and I furiously pulled his hand away from my belly. He let out a sob, shoulders slumped. I clenched my lips, looking at him with great sadness. "Or is this baby mine?" he asked, wiping his face and staring into my eyes, as if trying to see my soul.
"It’s not yours!" I lied, feeling my chest tighten.
"I want a DNA test, Ana!" he demanded, crossing his arms in front of me. "I had sex with you without a condom, and the dates match perfectly... I want to be sure this child isn’t mine. Because I have this damn intuition..."
I didn’t want that bastard near me, and I felt anger, hatred at his words, resentment that he really saw me as a slut and wanted to demand a DNA test.
"Fuck you! Go make a baby with Isabela and then ask for a DNA test, you idiot!" I yelled, trying to run and get into my house. Josiah just grabbed my arm and then tightened his grip on my shoulders.
"Tell the truth! I know you're lying," he growled, getting close to my face. "I just went to Marta’s house and asked her. I know my mother like the back of my hand. She got nervous and avoided the question about your baby being mine. And you, your reaction to the provocation about Lucah made it clear you were outraged. Tell me, damn it! This baby is mine, isn’t it? Or are we going to have to go to court for you to admit it?"
"Let me go!" I ordered, bouncing on the ground with rage and frustration. "It’s not your child! I’ve already told you, leave me alone!"
Josiah let me go when he saw I was having a dizzy spell, almost collapsing in his arms. I ran into my house, and as soon as I saw Lucah coming out of the shower, I ran to him and hugged him. I cried, even feeling anger towards him, but he was the only one I could embrace at that moment.

Lucah had been so thrilled about the baby and so eager that he bought a crib without consulting me. He spent days trying to assemble it next to my bed but eventually gave up and hired a professional. He was such a good man, but sometimes I felt anger towards him because I wished he were like Josiah imagined—someone unworthy. That way, he wouldn't have become my friend, and things wouldn’t have gone so wrong.
As I lay in bed, finally wanting to be alone, I wondered if it had been a mistake to deny in anger that the baby was Josiah’s. I had dreamed so much of having him around, and sometimes, in a sad way, I believed we might get back together after he learned about the baby. But the truth was, I already doubted whether, even if we did get back together, we would be able to be happy.