Double Lines -
Twenty-Nine - Noah
Ethan moves away, and I stand up, adjusting my dress.
“Dam,” I cry when I notice the back of my dress is wet.
“What?” Ethan asks. I look up at him and laugh.
“My clothes are wet, and so are yours,” I comment.
“What a shame.”
“I can’t walk out of your office like this!” I state.
“Lucky, I have spare clothes for us,” Ethan smirks, walking towards the door where his private bathroom is. I watch as Ethan pulls out a set of clothes for us, handing me jeans and a blouse.
“When did you take this?” I ask. I notice there isn’t underwear in the clothes he’s given me.
“I got Willow to buy some clothes in your size just in case,” Ethan answers.
“You did?” I ask, my brows raised.
“Yup. I had a feeling we’d end up having sex in my office sometime,” Ethan replies.
“Premeditated sex, huh?” I ask.
“Aha.”
Ethan’s bathroom also has a shower cubicle and is fully equipped with bathroom supplies like shampoo, toothbrushes and dental floss. We quickly shower and change into fresh clothes, me sans underwear (because Ethan refused to give them back).
“It’s a pity you don’t have a hair dryer,” I comment, brushing my wet hair. Ethan comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my head. I smile, looking at our reflection in the mirror.
“It’s about time,” Willow complains when I finally leave Ethan’s office.
“Sorry,” I admit, blushing.
“That’s okay. I got Milly to go to the café down the street to get us sandwiches and coffee,” Willow states, handing me a brown paper bag. I look inside and see a tomato and cheese sandwich on Turkish bread. My stomach rumbles just looking at it. As soon as we get to the staff room, I will toast it and make the cheese melt and the bread crispy-warm. Yum.
“Milly?”
“Yeah. She’s an intern. There she is,” Willow replies, pointing to the girl who made me sign in at the reception desk earlier.
//\\///\\\//\\
It’s been a few weeks since the school holidays, and term four is in full swing of busyness. School reports are due at the end of the year, and I’ve been planning the Christmas concert for our support unit classes. We’re practising singing ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ and doing the actions, which we will film and play in the background as our students perform on stage.
Not only is work busy, but Melina and David’s wedding is fast approaching. I finish work and say goodbye to Paula, my teacher’s aide, before heading to the mall. I need to visit Chemist Warehouse and pick up the wedding favours Melina ordered through them. I know it sounds weird buying wedding favours from a Chemist, but Melina ordered boxes of those fragrance gift packs, so each guest will get a small bottle of perfume for coming.
I’ve also been feeling a little sick again, and I need to get something to prove what I’m thinking I have.
After scanning the shelves for my best option and replaceing a box with two tests, I go to the counter to collect Melina’s order and pay. Walking out the door, I move my tests into my handbag, not looking where I’m going when I walk into a hard chest.
“Oh, sorry,” I apologise, looking up at the person I’ve walked into. Noah. Immediately, I blushed, hoping he didn’t see what I shoved into my handbag.
“Mikaela, hi. How are you?” Noah asks, smiling at me.
“Uh, what are you doing here?” I ask.
“I wanted to talk. Can we talk?”
I look around the mall, trying to think of a way to back out before returning to him.
“Why? There’s nothing to say, Noah. It’s been four years,” I reply.
“Please?” Noah asks. He gives me his puppy-dog look. It used to work on me, but now it just looks creepy.
“Fine, whatever,” I reply. I just want to finish this so I don’t have to see him again.
“Let’s replace a café. I’m hungry. You?” Noah asks. I shrug. I could eat. I’m always peckish after school, but I usually wait for Tyler to get home and steal a few crackers from his plate. I walk with Noah to one of the mall’s cafes and go to the counter with him.
“Hi there,” Caroline, the teenager behind the counter, greets.
“Hello. Can I please have a black coffee and a pesto chicken sandwich…” Noah asks, turning to me.
“A chocolate frappe and banana bread, toasted,” I add.
“No coffee?” Noah asks. I shake my head. Coffee has been going straight through me lately. I’d rather not.
“Would you like cream with your frappe?” Caroline asks.
“Yes, please,” I reply. Caroline smiles at me and adds that to the till before handing us a table number. Noah pays and then leads me to a table, placing his hand on my lower back as he does.
I shirk Noah off me as I sit in the seat opposite him.
“What do you want to talk about?” I ask him.
“Not yet, let’s eat first,” Noah replies.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“Not yet,” Noah says again. I feel frustrated with his response. There is nothing I’d like more than to just go home and put my feet up. Ethan is picking Tyler up today because he wanted to talk to the childcare workers about how Tyler is doing. So, other than picking up Melina’s wedding favours, I have the whole afternoon free. Or should I say had?
I sit there begrudgingly, waiting for this whole thing to be over.
“You’re looking good,” Noah tells me. I hum in response. Caroline walks over with our drinks, and I thank her, grateful to have something to occupy myself with.
“Why did you move out to Brunswick?” Noah asks.
“My aunt lives here.”
“Your aunt?” Noah asks, raising his eyebrows. I’m somewhat pleased he can’t do that one-eyebrow thing my man and son can do.
“Mum’s sister,” I reply.
“Oh. I didn’t know she had a sister,” Noah comments. I just nod. Unfortunately, our families are close, but Melina was never mentioned because, as kids, we were never told about her.
Noah watches me, maybe hoping I’ll instigate a conversation, but he’s sweet out of luck. I’ve moved on.
Caroline comes over with our food, and Noah and I thank her again. I watch as Noah begins to eat, making me slightly angry. I butter my banana bread, cut it into bite-sized squares, and start eating. We sit there quietly, not talking, which is beyond awkward. I wonder if he knows how much I don’t want to be here.
“That was good. How was yours?” Noah asks, wiping his lips with a serviette.
“Fine,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders.
“Mikaela, you’ve changed,” Noah remarks. No kidding dickhead.
“I guess motherhood would do that, huh?” Noah says, leaning forward. I furrow my brows but don’t respond.
“Mikaela, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?” I ask, confused.
“That you were pregnant with our child,” he states. It dawns on me why we’re here.
“He’s my child, not yours,” I reply.
“I have a son?” Noah smiles, ignoring the last part.
“No, I have a son. He’s not yours,” I correct, shaking my head. Noah laughs.
“Of course he is my son. I know all about him. I know he’s almost four, which makes him mine. Who's else could he be?” Noah chastises me, all serious now.
“You didn’t know my baby was a boy until now! And how the hell did you replace out?” I whisper yell.
“Mum popped around to your parent’s house a while back. She overheard Pam talking about her three-year-old grandson. Pam stopped talking when she saw Mum. Mum put two and two together. I researched and found out where you live and work, and now I’m here,” Noah says proudly.
“So you’ve been stalking me?” I ask.
“No. I’ve been here since yesterday. I found out where you worked and tried following you home this afternoon, but you came here. I thought we could talk,” Noah admits.
“You shouldn’t have wasted your time,” I tell him.
“I just want to meet my child, Mikaela. Be part of his life. You’ve kept him away from me for four years; you owe me,” Noah says, grabbing my hand. I pull it away.
“No. He’s not your son, Noah. And I don’t want anything to do with you,” I grit.
“He is my son, Mikaela. And if I have to get a DNA test to prove it, I will. You owe me four years. Four years!”
I shake my head at Noah and get off my chair but sit back down when Noah grabs my hand again.
“No. End of discussion. You’ve wasted your time coming here, Noah. Don’t you see I want nothing to do with you?” I plead.
“I want to see my son. I will take you to court for full custody if I have to,” Noah threatens.
“Good luck with that,” I reply, successfully getting up from my seat.
“I’m still with Andrea, you know. She’ll make a good mother,” Noah states.
“Whatever,” I reply, storming out of the café.
I can’t believe Noah. He just wouldn’t listen to me. Tyler isn’t his, thank God.
“What’s up?” Ethan asks when I walk into the main floor, dumping my keys in the bowl before plonking myself on the couch. I just shake my head in reply.
“Is everything alright?” Ethan says, sitting beside me and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I lean my head on his shoulder and fold my arms.
“I bumped into Noah today after work,” I admit.
“You did? He’s in Brunswick?”
I nod.
“Yup. He thinks Tyler’s his and threatened to sue me for full custody and a DNA test to prove it,” I add grumpily. Ethan doesn’t respond, his fingers rubbing circles on my arms.
“I’m so glad you’re the one that got me pregnant and not him,” I say, giving Ethan a small smile.
“I did make a good-looking kid,” Ethan admits, making me laugh.
“You did. Talking about Tyler, where is he?” I ask.
“Upstairs playing with his new Hot Wheels I bought him on the way home,” Ethan tells me.
“He sure is a lucky kid,” I sigh. Ethan nods.
“He is.”
//\\///\\\//\\
Weeks go by, and I don’t hear from Noah, not that I’m expecting to. My mind is busy with work and wedding preparations. Also, Tyler asked Ethan one morning about his house, and Ethan promised to take us there on the weekend to see it.
Melina caved in and let David hire a wedding planner, who took over all our organising for the wedding. All Melina and I have to do is say yes or no to Kerry, the wedding planner’s ideas and then she goes away and gets it ready. The big day, December second, is in two weeks!
“How are you feeling? You look tired,” Melina comments as we walk towards Kerry’s office.
“I’m fine, just tired. It’s been a busy term,” I admit.
“You sure that’s all? You’ve had one hectic year,” Melina states. I hum, agreeing with Melina. This year has been hectic: meeting Ethan again, him asking me to marry him, Melina and David getting married, and me replaceing out I’m pregnant. And that whole Noah demanding to see his ‘son.’ The thought just makes me want to gag.
“Wait, are you pregnant?” Melina asks, stopping me. I look down at my stomach, which I had been unintentionally rubbing.
“Yeah,” I admit, slightly smiling. Melina gasps with excitement, grabbing me and pulling me into a hug.
“Have you told Lincoln yet?” she asks.
“No. I want to keep it a surprise. I have an idea of how I want to tell him. I just have to order it,” I say, stopping and looking through my phone to show Melina a picture of my idea.
“Oh, that would be so cute,” Melina gushes.
“I know, right?”
- edited
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