Within the Script (A Stanathan Fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty-Five: Her Words

Stana's P.O.V
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I didn't say a word to Nathan. Not that night, not that morning, not even the next day. As we got ready for the next day's work, as I felt nausea set in again, I lied and said I left something at home so that he didn't have to see me stop at his trashcan beside his house and lose the breakfast he had tried to make for my upset stomach. When I got to the set, I avoided him. At lunch, I avoided him. When we finished with the day, having acted as though there wasn't anything wrong while people were able to listen, I saw a small bit of desperation hiding behind the clear sky of his eyes. I followed him, only able to tell him I was going to get a blood test before the deep pain in my chest swallowed out my will and I had to make an excuse to leave.

The next day, we went through the same routine. I didn't say a word to him. Some miracle allowed me to hold down my breakfast, but by lunch, the smell got so powerful that I had to excuse myself. I didn't come back until I looked like I hadn't just vomited out my lungs. I couldn't get through the rest of the day fast enough after my puking session. When we finished with the day, as I collected the contents of my locker, I looked down at my phone. The screen said I had missed a call from a number I recognized as the barer of immense news.

Nathan was with me in my trailer as I listened to the words that my life depended on. At first, I didn't know what to say or how to react. I just stared at Nathan. The closest thing I could relate my feelings to as his words continued was shock. I was stuck on his second sentence. My breathing seemed to restrict and my mind went blank. I just stared into Nathan's eyes until finally the shock was shattered and I couldn't listen to the doctor any longer. As soon as emotion leaked into my being and a wave of pain came over me, I crashed into Nathan's chest and gave myself the luxury of weeping into him without fear of resentment or judgement. For what seemed like days, I emptied myself of the sorrow that I had held onto for thirteen years. Choppy breaths passed over my lips as I sobbed, then finding myself calmed enough to speak.

He didn't push. Not for an explanation, not for an answer, not for a single word I felt uncomfortable saying. Looking up at him, by habit alone, I said, "I'm sorry."

"No, Stana, please. I don't mind. I'm here for you, no matter what."

I swallowed hard and nodded. Breathing out I finally told him, "So, I guess- I guess you should know, I'm not-... pregnant."

"You're not," Nathan asked in some mix of emotion that seemed to be dominated by confusion. I just choke down air and shook my head weakly. He breathed, and I could feel him trying so hard not to ask, "Then why did you cry?"

I heavily sighed and told him, "Do you remember those stories I told you about living in my car when I first moved here?" He nodded. "Well, at that time I was dating this guy who eventually let me move in. I mean, we dated for a while when I was about twenty-three, and we were happy. But- eventually he forgot to buy condoms, we took a risk, and I got pregnant. He found out, freaked and basically gave me the choice of abortion or homelessness." I waited for Nathan to take that in before going on. "I chose the car and- I continued to work, but- in that extra stress and in not eating and all the shit that goes on when you're living in your car, I wound up losing the baby at eleven weeks."

"Stana," he whispered, "you know I wouldn't have done that to you, right? I would never leave you if something like that happened."

"I know," I gently answered, "I just-... the day I went in to my doctor and they had to... clean me up, I swore I would never get pregnant again without being married. I swore I would never make another baby suffer because I couldn't get my life together, and- I don't know... I just- I-." Tears started again, one dropping onto my cheek as I flatly said, "I thought I had screwed up again and that I was going to do something awful to my child, and-..."

"Stana, listen," he said, cupping my hands with his own as he called my gaze into his, "You did nothing wrong then, and you haven't done anything wrong now. That wasn't your fault, and you can't blame yourself for it. And no matter what the circumstances are, I would never do to you what that guy did. I would have been thrilled to be having a baby, and I would marry you on the spot if that's what you wanted.

"I mean," he shoved his hand in his jacket pocket and searched the thing, then pulling out a golden ring with a large diamond sitting atop a setting with smaller diamonds in the frame, "I have had this sitting in my house for years, just waiting for the right woman to come along. I- I thought for a shadow of a second this was going to end up on another finger, but- I never did use it. It wasn't right, but- I know now that this is yours. If you had told me you were pregnant, Stana, I would have- I would have gotten down on one knee, caressed the back of your hand as I held this in mine, looked you deeply in the eye and asked you with a full heart to do for me what only you could ever do and allow me to love you for the time of our lives and beyond. I- I would have made sure you knew that in any time, good or bad, I would have been there for you and for our child every second of every day with open arms, a loving smile and whatever kind of support you needed. I would have promised you I would give you everything I could possibly give you and done anything for our family that I could to be sure you were all as happy as you could be, as safe as you could be, and that you never went a day without hearing me tell you how much I love you. Because I love you. I always have, and I always will. I love you, Stana, and I'm never going to stop loving you."

My mind went blank for a second time. My eyes were stuck on his. I couldn't stop watching him. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I didn't know what to say or what to do. All I could think to verbalize was, "Nathan?"

He stared into me. "Yes?"

My thoughts could only pull out one word. I echoed, "Yes."

He blinked. "What?"

"Yes," I said, not thinking another moment. "Yes, I- I want to marry you. I- I want to spend my life with you. I love you, and- yes." Nathan just stared at me. I panicked, "I mean- unless you don't want to... I just- I thought you were... proposing..."

He hesitated. "No, no, I-... Yes. Yes, this-... I-... Yes."

"Yes," I questioned.

He nodded, "Yes. Yes, I- I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Yes." I smiled lightly. He beamed and laughed, "Yes." I laughed more. He then rushed his arms around me to pull me into his hold and gripped me tightly. In his hold, my nerves were settled. In his arms, my pain was cured. When he pulled away he slipped the ring on my finger and in that moment, I knew nothing could ever feel more right.

I then took him back into my arms, pulled him tightly to my chest and told him in a whisper, "I love you."

He whispered back, "I love you too."

As my heart beat and my body remained connected to his, I knew I would never regret any of this because, no matter how this came to be, it brought me to the man I loved. It brought me my happy ending. And better than that, in the end, it brought me all I could ever want. It brought me my beautiful, caring, lovely daughter and my handsome, kind, charming son. He gave me everything, and that was more I could have ever asked for.