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Your eyes adjusted to the dim room as you felt the bile rushing its way up to your throat. You abruptly sat, sending a wave of dizziness sloshing in your head and startling your dear boyfriend sleeping peacefully beside you, his arms lovingly wrapped around you.
His eyes fluttered open. "Love, what's wrong?"
"It's nothing. Go back to sleep, Tom." You got out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. You didn't bother to close the door nor turn on the lights when you badly wanted to puke the everloving hell building up in your stomach.
Tom literally threw the sheets and jumped off the bed when he heard you retching. He turned on the lights and found you sitting on the rim of the tub, your head resting on your hands. "Oh baby," his voice was heavy in worry. "That is not nothing."
You peeked between your fingers and groaned. "Tom, love, please turn off the lights. I-" You bent over the toilet and heaved. Nothing came out but a few drops of saliva. "Turn off the main lights but leave the mirror light on."
Tom, bless him, didn't know exactly what to do so he sat beside you and supported your back as you curled. He ran his hand and asked, "what do you want me to do? What do you need? How are you feeling? Do you need your antacids?"
You felt your stomach. It wasn't feeling like it's on fire. You also have not been drinking last night. "I feel like shit," you said after you vomited a few amounts of liquid.
"I can stay. You don't feel very well."
You firmly raised a finger. "No. Don't. Remember, today's callback is important. You need to be there."
"But you're sick."
You turned to him, eyes wet with tears. His face was lined with anxiety but damn he still looks great, you smirked at the thought.
He sighed. "I have to bring you to the hospital." He started to pull you up but you resisted. "Darling…"
"No, no, no. I can do it." It's true. You're feeling a little bit better. You stood up and took a moment until your head felt normal. You faced him, still sitting on the tub, and placed your hands on his shoulders.
He grabbed you by the waist. "I can't leave you like this. I have to bring you to the hospital. You're turning pale."
You shush him as you run your fingers on his worry lines and you started to pepper him with kisses. Poor Tom, you made him worry at past 5 in the morning when he should be relaxing hours before his callback. "I'll be fine. I'm fine," you assured him and he grunted in reply. "Do I need to call Luke to pull you by the ear?" You chuckled when you pictured the scene.
He half-heartedly grinned. "I'm worried, okay? I wouldn't stop thinking about this. I just want to bring you to the hospital, be right by your side, and know what happened. I need to take care of you."
"Tom, Tom, Tom." Your foreheads meet. "Thank you but I'm fine now. If assurance is what you want, I'll ask my best friend to come with me to the hospital." He was still frowning worriedly at you. "I'll be okay, love. Now what I want you to do is to go to that callback. That's for a drama film, right? Use this to fuel your character."
He raised an eyebrow. "How did you know it was a drama film?"
"I read your script. You left it lying on the kitchen counter."
He snickered. "Right. Anyway, you're my girlfriend and I know you keep secrets."
"Up to my grave."
"And you don't need to take that to your grave because everyone will know about it after 6 months."
He gave you a kiss on the lips despite your protests, telling him that your mouth tastes like bile, but he said he didn't care and did it anyway. "Yuck, Tom. Don't do that again." He laughed at you.
The two of you proceeded to make breakfast together. He turned on the coffee machine while you settled for green tea.
On the contrary, you did not call your best friend. You left the house, wearing oversized sunglasses in an attempt to hide from the prying eyes of the public and the paparazzi. You were not in the mood to talk to anyone else but medical staff at this time. You headed out of the lofty apartment you share with Tom and rolled your Maserati on the streets, even though Tom told you to take an Uber or let your best friend drive.
You silently thanked the gods when there wasn't a long queue at your GP's clinic. You pulled out your glasses as you reached the receptionist and sat on the chair in front of her table. You gave her your name and she tried not to be starstruck. You just kindly smiled at her. Of course, people will recognize you and your name since you're as famous as your boyfriend.
You were working on your screenplay through your phone when your number was called. This is what you liked about the clinic: they give you priority numbers instead of your name being called out. At least you won't startle the whole waiting area. You entered the doctor's clinic and exchanged smiles with the doctor.
"Hi. So what brought you here this time?" She asked tenderly. You told her how your morning went through. "The last time you were here it was for your gastroenteritis, did it flare up?" You said no. She wrote something on your record then looked at you. "I have to ask you something, I hope you wouldn't mind. Are you sexually active?"
Your mouth became dry and you feel like a teenager and the doctor's your mom. You blinked multiple times and snickered because you felt silly. Why would you be nervous? You're old enough to have sex for crying out loud. "Yes, I am."
She wrote it down. "How many sexual partners have you had for the last 6 months?"
"Only 1." And it has been Tom for the last year.
"When was the last time you had sex?" You gulped. "It's okay. It's just the two of us here."
"2 nights ago."
"How often do you have sex?"
You directed your attention to the bare, white wall in front of you. Suddenly, that wall became interesting. "Frequently. Like, twice a week?" Actually, three times a week. No. Actually, four times.
Your eyes slowly veered to the doctor. She was taking all these professionally. Tom and you made sure to keep your relationship private. Probably the doctor doesn't know anything aside from the fact that you're frequently having sex. You checked her hand and she has a wedding ring. Good, she would understand.
"Okay. When was the last time you had your menstruation?"
"Uh. Last month. No. Last month and a half. Almost two months." Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "But I guess that's because of my PCOS? And I have been so stressed for the past 4 months. I was working on my last project and I wasn't sleeping well. So I guess it's that." You shifted on your seat. "And I have been taking iron pills."
She finished writing and looked at you. "You said you threw up this morning, right?" You nodded. "I need to run tests on you. Maybe it's not your gastroenteritis."
You curled up in the tub, hugging your knees to your chest. You couldn't believe what just happened. But it was the doctor who confirmed it so it must be real. It is real. You have been staying in the tub for so long now the lavender scent started to dig into your sinuses. You rinsed, dried your body, and dressed up. You wore Tom's maroon knitted sweater and pulled up your black sweatpants.
It was past 7 in the evening. Tom told you this afternoon that they'll be home by 8. Around 6 he called you and asked if you wanted to have dinner outside.
"Tom, I'm sorry but I don't feel like leaving the confines of this humble, cozy abode." Your stomach felt heavy with worry.
"Oh love, it's okay. It's not a problem. Anyway, I can bring home some food. What would you like?" You told him that you're having the usual - stir fry noodles with tons of vegetables from your favorite Asian takeout place. "Of course." He sounded like he was beaming. "I'll pass by there. I love you."
"I love you, too," you said and waited for him to hang up.
Now you're sitting on the couch, the results of your exam folded neatly in the coffee table in front of you. You wrap your hand on your warm mug of hot chocolate as you wait for Tom.
A few minutes later you heard the familiar purr of his Jaguar pull up outside your door. You placed the mug on the table and sprang to the door. You opened the door just as he climbed up the stairs, smiling like a Cheshire cat.
"Let me guess, you got the role?" You asked as you grabbed the bag of take out from him.
"Yes!" He exclaimed and you squealed in delight, throwing yourself to him for a hug.
"I'm so proud of you, love! I told you you were gonna get it!"
"Of course, you're talking to Tom Hiddleston." He kissed you on the lips and you responded. "I bet you're hungry."
You pulled him to the kitchen and laid down the food between the two of you on the dining table. You both sat and started eating and talking and you silently wish he would forget this morning's incident and your trip to the hospital.
"Okay, let's move on from that." His face became serious, his brows furrowed in agitation. He held your free hand. "How was your checkup?"
You gulped and giggled nervously. "Oh. I thought we're gonna forget that." You poked the broccoli with your chopsticks, which you know your best friend would reprimand you for it.
"Darling, I was worried about you the whole day."
"And you used it for your character?" His head titled in disbelief. "Okay, okay. Wait here." You stood up and walked to the living room where the paper was sitting. You peeked inside and took a deep breath. You didn't know how Tom will react to it. You were just dating for a year now and at this point, you were not ready for this.
You bet he also wasn't ready for anything serious as this.
You folded the paper close and returned to the kitchen. The whole time Tom was watching you, worried as hell. He was thinking about your gastroenteritis. He knew how much pain you went through with it when you were drinking too much dairy one time. Or when you were out drinking with your friends, he had to bring you to the hospital and you ended up having a hep-lock at the back of your hand for a week. Your stomach could go on fire anytime.
You sat and gave him a nervous smile. You held up the paper. "I underwent some tests," you said in a controlled voice. You didn't want to cry. You slowly gave it to him, rather ceremoniously.
He opened the paper and froze. You looked away as tears started to fall. He lowered the paper but he didn't get to see your eyes. "You're…pregnant?"
You turned to him, fully aware your whole face is now red and covered in tears. "I'm sorry." You placed your elbows on the table and clasped your hands. The paper covered half of his face and you were too scared to see him. "I know you're not yet prepared for any of this. We still have a long way to go and we're not married and -"
He dropped the paper and grabbed your hand, gently shushing you. "Love, why are you apologizing? This is amazing." He laughed. You looked at him, incredulous. "I can't believe it. I am going to be a father?!" He was smiling too much you bet his cheeks hurt. He was still clutching your hand. He placed it on his cheek then kissed it. "Oh my god. Thank you. I love you." He moved closer to you and you could already see tears in his eyes. He cupped your face and kissed you on the lips.
"You're...you're okay with it? We have not planned this," you asked when you finished the kiss.
"Okay? I love it! I am so happy! I think I can throw a party right now!" He was bouncing on his seat.
You sobbed tears of relief when you heard him. You thought of the worst but the opposite happened. He pulled his chair closer, wiped the tears, kissed your whole face, and hugged you tightly. "I love you so much and I can't wait to meet our mini-me…or mini-you." You laughed.
"I love you too, Tom. I'm so glad you're happy with it." You looked at him and he laughed as you wiped the tears from his face. Both of you were blushing from the emotions.
"Oh my," he happily sighed, "so this means you can't have wine?" You smiled and shook your head. "Okay then, allow me to have some for fatherhood." He stood up and poured himself some.
You watched him as he went back to the table. He held your hand as you finished your dinner and he started talking about what to name your future child and turning the spare room upstairs to a nursery.
For the rest of the day, you were scared he would turn away from this responsibility. But here you are, relieved as you discovered that he is more excited than you to become a parent and that alone gives you peace.