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Lila was having an awful week. She spent Monday yelling and cursing out anyone who crossed her on the set of her latest production. She then returned home and remembered that it was her turn to cook dinner, and they were out of the one required ingredients for her favorite comfort dish. Instead of cooking something else she gave up and ordered take out, which was of course an hour late. That night Zoé also seemed to be doing every minor little thing that Lila found annoying. Midway through Tuesday and in the middle of a scene was when the nausea hit, progressively getting worse throughout the day until it forced her to take the next day off. Thursday she was feeling good enough to go shopping and hopefully get a chance to cook what she had planned to at the beginning of week. The monotony of the task allowed her to reflect on the past week, and something started to nest in the pit of her stomach. One that got larger as she turned down the health isle.
Lila’s world crumbled around her as her eyes stayed fixed on the twin red lines, they stared back mocking her as her world crumbled and old foundations rose up again. Those two simple lines ruined her, but now her week made sense, she was idiotic for not realizing sooner. She could now feel It growing inside of her, poisoning her as she poisoned It.
Her grip tightened around the plastic device, hoping it would ground her, but it only cracked under the pressure. Instinctively she put a hand to her abdomen hoping to still the uneasiness, but that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach only grew in response. She moved from her seated position on the toilet to the bathroom mirror. She ran cold water through her hands, but before she could splash much needed water on her face she stopped, frozen at the sight of herself in the mirror. This version of herself was slightly older, the signs of a stressful life beginning to show on her face, she wore her hair in a much shorter pixie cut, one that she was realizing now was reminiscent of her mother. And just like her mother her face sneered at her, sending a familiar mix of emotions that flared and collected in her gut, crossing across the placenta into her and Zoé’s child. A wave of nausea flared through her body, but her mind was elsewhere, duly recognizing the feeling of bile rising up her throat and onto the sink and mirror.
Lila was not sure how long it had been since she found out she was pregnant. She knew, or at least was pretty sure, that she had seen Zoé before she left for the health clinic. She could not remember what Zoé said about the state of the bathroom or what she said when Lila abruptly left their shared apartment, nor could Lila remember what excuse she said to Zoé as she left. The only thing that she was focused on was the cracked plastic stick in her left hand, both now stowed in her jacket pocket. The doors of the clinic loomed over her, the weight of what they could do for her and her future added more things onto her spiral. Lila could feel it, what she was becoming, every second that passed she was becoming more of a mother. Every second that passed she was messing everything up and ruining It, just by proxy of It being from her.
Lila could do nothing good for It.
This was all that she was thinking about when she walked through the doors of the clinic. She strode through the lobby and managed to have a halfway coherent conversation with the receptionist and successfully scheduled a walk in abortion. All that she could do now was wait and then she would be free from It. Lila could go back to her life and pick up the pieces of her life. Pretend that nothing had changed about her, that she was her regular old new self and be able to look her girlfriend in the eyes again. But currently all she was left with was her thoughts and It.
"You’re never going to be good. This child will see it and so will Zoé. They’ll see the façade you’ve created and leave you for nothing. You’re being selfish, you’re just going to decide this without telling Zoé. You don’t know how to be a good mother, partner, or person. All you do is mess up, you’ll turn them into YOU. Your child will just be like you. Just like your mother did to you. YOU’RE JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER. YOU’RE JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER. YOU’RE JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER. YOU’RE YOUR MOTHER. YOU’RE YOUR MOTHER. YOU’RE YOUR MOTHER. YOUR MOTHER. YOUR MOTHER. YOUR MOTHER. MOTHER. MOTHER. MOTHER. MOTHER.”
Zoé could tell that Lila was not having a good week, nothing major but she was definitely moodier. Nothing severe or worrying, she just had very little patience this week and was taking that out on everyone. Though something seemed to have shifted today, she had gone from constant contempt to utter silence. Something must have happened but Zoé wasn’t sure what could have happened, the change had occurred overnight. Unless Marinette crept into their apartment last night and managed to quietly personally slight Lila, Zoé wasn’t sure what happened, or what she should do. Maybe she’ll just wait till tomorrow to see if Lila was feeling any different in the morning.
While Zoé was mulling over her choices, Lila returned from where she was and Zoé felt instantly sick with guilt. Lila looked completely exhausted, emotionally and physically, she had gone through something and Zoé wasn’t there for her. So she had to be there for her now, but when Zoé grabbed her into a hug Lila did not react at all, she kept her heavy arms limp at her side. Furthermore, once she let her go Lila barley acknowledged her and started walking away from her.
Zoé was usually the more emotionally mature one of them, but she found herself stumbling at the divide that was now growing between them. Lila was obviously in a very delicate and distraught state. Zoé did not know whether it was better to give her more space or instead to push harder for Lila to open up.
Zoé decided to do both as she went into the kitchen to heat up dinner and brew some tea, Lila always refused to acknowledge that it did actually calm her down. She put all the items on a tray; she intended to serve Lila in bed but only made it half way down the hall. Lila did not go to their shared bedroom and instead stopped in the bathroom. She was staring into the mirror and despite her tight grip on the sink, she was slightly swaying.
“Lila?” The sound of her name seemed to bring her slightly out of her trance. Her head whipped to face Zoé, eyes manic and furious.
“You did this to me.” Lila’s voice was laced with so much hate that the accusation caused Zoé to stumble slightly.
“W-what?” Whatever Zoé had expected from Lila, it was not this. “I-I don’t understand, baby please talk to me.”
The pet name caused Lila to flinch, then panic. Her choked breaths started to become more rapid and becoming even more stochastic. Deep breaths interrupted by short grasps. Tears began welling in her eyes. It was then Zoé noticed that Lila was gripping a broken plastic object; she had gripped it so hard that Zoé could see dried blood caked to her knuckles. Zoé stepped forward, about to offer her help, but was interrupted by Lila.
“Don’t.” She practically begged, her tone much different now, this one was desperate and terrified. “Don’t come any closer. I don’t want to ruin you too. I destroy everything I touch and It’s inside of me. I’m sorry.”
This confession seemed to break Lila’s resolve, her already rapidly choked out breaths turned into a sob. Lila completely broke down in front of her confused girlfriend. Zoé’s heart ached to see Lila in this state, it felt worse not knowing what caused it.
Zoé was also working on her own turbulent wave of emotions from Lila’s earlier rejection of her help. She knew that Lila was going through something heavy and this was how she processed it, but the lack of trust still left a sting on her heart.
“Lila,” She said resolutely, her voice so laced with care it caused Lila to flinch. “Whatever is going on, I’m here for you and I’m never going away. I’ve think we’ve been through enough shit together that you or you’re problems aren’t going to scare me away.”
This declaration of devotion caused another wave of hysterics to run through Lila. It was a mix of guilt for doubting her partner’s devotion and thinking she would say something so callous, as well as a wave of love and care that she felt in that moment. They were so contrasting to each other it made her feel sick. She didn’t know what to do anymore, didn’t know how to hold it all in. So she didn’t, she let Zoé back in.
Lila raised her head slightly, just enough so their eyes could meet, her amber eyes pleading for help. In her state this was all the communication she could muster, but it was all that Zoé needed.
In the close confines of the bathroom Zoé squeezed herself next to her breaking partner, pulling her in close, as if she alone could shield Lila from all her problems, both internal and external. In her state all Lila could do was tuck herself in further curling up in ball, making a nest out of her girlfriend, the movement obscuring whatever object she was holding onto so tightly.
It took a while for Lila to speak, but even then, she could not fully speak or responded, just desperately choaking out an “I” occasionally working out an “I’m”. It barely counted as words, more similar to the choked-out breaths she was managing earlier, but Zoé did not care. Zoé knew that Lila needed time and rocked her through the words and sentences she was trying to say. Until Lila could say what she wanted, needed, to say. Until she finally told Zoé what was going on, what as happening to their child?