Rivals For Breakfast

49| Zanzibar

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"And If we got married?"

We sit facing each other on the rooftop of another fancy restaurant. It's quiet except for the sound of the guitarist who plays a cheerful tune. The reviews said this place is usually packed to full capacity, but not tonight. Cole's rented out the whole restaurant. So it's just me, and him, and the moon, and the stars, and the guitarist. The silky notes fill the silence. The candles around us set a mood. A soft silk fabric brushes against my thigh. I can see him clearly because my hair is up in a neat bun. His hair isn't neat though, it hardly ever is.

"How would we do it?" I smile, reaching for the glass of red wine in front of me, I take a sip, mostly because I'm nervous. I've almost forgotten about the intricate henna flowers that span from my fingertips to half my forearm. It's beautiful. This entire culture is beautiful, just like the night.

"I don't know, we could do a destination wedding, or we could elope."

Elope. I like that idea. Just me and him in a church somewhere. My dress will drag behind me collecting dirt amongst other things, but I won't care because it won't be white. It'll be some other color that screams fuck tradition. I'll wear my curls out so they can blow with the wind. Cole's hair won't be neat either, we'd keep things authentic.

"And what about your faithful gang members, they'll want to come," I say. I'm trying to play things cool, but my heart is pounding. It's his eyes, his smile too, they still make me nervous, I don't think I'll ever get used to him.

"I'll hand the reins over to Kai, then we can run away together" he shrugs.

I smile at the thought "where would we go?"

He shrugs "Pick a country, we've seen a few".

I take another sip of my wine. It's the good kind, smooth, and the flavors are rich. "As long as we're together, I could live anywhere."

"So when I propose, you'll say yes" he asks.

Wait what? He can't really be thinking of proposing, right?

I smile, hoping to keep things interesting. I heard once that men like it when you make them chase you.

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Cole doesn't believe in magic, or spirits, or fortune tellers, but I do, so when I land in the hospital five days into our trip in Zanzibar I can't help but think back to the crazy fortune teller lady in Brazil.

"Okay ma'am so we're just going to take a look," the doctor says. She squeezes a white tube, oozing blue gel over my lower abdomen.

She takes the transducer and rolls the gel over my belly while squinting at the screen. Cole holds my hand, he doesn't look stressed, but I do. I can't see the screen, I'm dying to know what she's squinting at. She scribbles something on her clipboard then starts wiping up the excess gel on my belly, at last my seat is raised back up.

She removes her glasses, legs crossing as she plops onto her rolling chair.

"Alright, so you came in because of the pain, yes?" She asks. Her voice is smooth and calming. She smiles kindly to put me at ease.

My voice escapes me, so I nod instead.

"And you hadn't taken any pregnancy tests, although your last period was eight weeks ago?"

I nod again. How could I be so stupid let alone distracted, what if I really am pregnant, I can't have a baby, not now, I'd be the worst mother! And Cole...

"Okay, so I definitely saw a pregnant endometrium as well as a yolk sac, but there's no fetus or fetal pole. At eight weeks along we should definitely be able to see at least that, along with a well-developing fetus, and heart rate. I'd say that coupled with the cramping and spotting you've been experiencing, it's safe to rule this as a miscarriage."

I nod down at my feet. How am I supposed to feel? I was pregnant all this time? in Spain, in Italy, in Brazil!

"I recommend that we go ahead with a dilation and curettage procedure..." she goes on explaining the process, I catch bits and pieces of "opening the cervix" and "scraping the womb" and then I'm being wheeled out to an operating room.

The procedure doesn't take long. They hold me for two hours for the anesthesia to wear off and then Cole gets to take me back to our resort.

"I'm sorry" I croak out, my voice cracks under the strain.

If I had known I was pregnant, I wouldn't have had any alcohol, and maybe I would've been more careful. Maybe things would be different now.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, it's not your fault" he wipes the tears off my cheeks and pulls me into a hug.

"We can have another baby if you want," he says softly.

"Wha- what!" I say "you really want to be stuck with me forever?"

He kisses my forehead sweetly "I don't see a future without you".

I believe him.

I dress comfortably in some sweatpants before heading out. He's arranged for me to have a full treatment at the local spa. I'm looking forward to relaxing and getting this whole miscarriage out of my mind.

When I get back, Cole's on the phone.

"It's only been six weeks" he says into the speaker.

"Well just tell me what happened" he orders. The strain in his voice tells me he's frustrated.

"Why can't you say?" he groans.

"Okay fine, I'll see what I can do." He sighs.

He peers up at me. "Ava, I'm sorry" he frowns "we have to go home."

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Would Cole and Ava make good parents?
Do you like Ava's hypothetical wedding plans?\

Thanks for reading beautiful butterfly 🦋

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