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Chapter 12 - The American Dream (2)

Chapter 12 - The American Dream (2)

I have yet to tell anyone about it. Yes, the fact that I "might" be pregnant. I need some clearer signs to be sure. Nowadays, medicine cannot determine whether a woman is pregnant or not if her belly is not as big as if she had eaten two large croissants at once. If I am really pregnant, things will probably be easier for me. My mother-in-law will not have to find excuses to teach me about morality and virtue. I also do not have to be intimate with my husband frequently. But I do not want to be pregnant right now, when everything with Enzo is still not settled. I cannot stop thinking about him, and now even if it was just a faint hope, God still wants to play with us.

It is just dawn, but I do not know when I woke up. The sunlight sneaks in through the cracks in the door and touches my face. Augustin is still sleeping next to me, my husband's snoring cannot be mistaken. We just had an intimate night together, but despite our efforts, I could not feel much. I turn to kiss his forehead, then get up to prepare for a new day. I put on a robe, but then take it off and stand in front of the mirror. I have really gained some weight, based on the fullness of my body. My breasts are also bigger and fuller. It seems that the possibility of me being pregnant is extremely high. Fear engulfs me once again. At this moment, I cannot be pregnant!

An embrace from behind takes hold of me. Augustin has awakened at some point without my notice. His head is nestled into the crook of my neck, causing my senses to rise. Augustin is playful with me this morning, it is both sweet and suffocating. I reach behind and hold his head. Augustin bites affectionately into my neck, leaving a red bruise behind. He says it is a new trend for couples here, a form of "territorial possession". I smile gently. I have become almost hypersensitive and sensitive to everything. But I remain silent. I do not want both of our moods to turn sour if I react harshly for no reason.

We quickly get dressed and go downstairs for breakfast. My husband's whole family is there, waiting for the "lovebirds" to finish preparing. My mother-in-law, as usual, looks at me with a cold gaze. I have never asked her to treat me like her own daughter, I just want to be respected as I deserve. I sit down with a cheerful face. Lately, I always feel tired, so if possible, I want to avoid unexpected arguments.

The basic morning of the British people begins with a plate of food consisting of a fried egg, two slices of toast, a lightly smoked half tomato, two sausages, and a spoonful of chicken bean soup, served with a cup of hot milk tea. Almost every breakfast is the same, sometimes with a few changes in ingredients, like yesterday when I had smoked meat instead of sausages.

The Londoners prefer to maintain silence. They are so reticent that sometimes I forget what their voices sound like. Especially my father-in-law. Since I got married, he has mostly stayed in his office, and when he is at home, he does not bother to open his mouth. At most, he sighs a few words or agrees with my mother-in-law, otherwise, he is just like an invisible shadow lurking around the large mansion. I scan everyone's eyes to make sure that no one cares about anyone else, and only then do I dare to speak up and take a bite of the bread.

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The members of my husband's family began discussing some matters, mostly related to the bank's business, as well as gossip from the club that my mother-in-law is one of the founders of. It is a place where the women of society "discuss" "confidential" matters. I still do not understand the terms she used to describe this club, but I have a hunch that it is not a good place.

A strange sense of coldness suddenly overwhelmed my body as I took a bite of the sausage. A familiar scent has turned into a disgusting thing that made me nauseous. I do not want to, but the smell is so terrible that I have to stop all the conversations of everyone. My father-in-law, mother-in-law, husband, Andermis, and even the servants all look at me with a strange look. I cover my mouth with my hand, trying not to vomit everything I have just eaten, and I may have even vomited last night's meal on the table. My mother-in-law is the first to discover the situation, but only at a suspicious level, I think. When she is about to leave any comments, I have to be rude, leaving my napkin on the table and running straight to the loo to vomit. Damn it! At this point, I cannot even deny it!

I do not lock the door, so my mother-in-law easily opens it and comes in to assess the situation. She does not speak immediately, only stands and observes. I try to vomit, but nothing comes out, as if it were a false alarm. I sit down, leaning against the wall and trying to suppress the feeling of nausea. My mother-in-law still looks at me with an emotionless gaze. She asks:

"Have you not had your period for a while?"

"... Two months," I softly reply.

"And you didn't tell us?" my mother raises her eyebrows.

"I just thought I had a problem, that's why I didn't say anything..." I give a lame excuse.

My mother-in-law says nothing for a moment, pondering. Then she snorts, which scares me. In the blink of an eye, her attitude completely changes. Instead of being harsh or judgmental, she steps forward to help me stand up and leads me back to the room. Perhaps she has sensed a pregnant woman in the house. She removes some layers of clothing from me to make me feel more comfortable and places me gently on the bed. For the first time, Mrs Rose strokes my hair, and it sends shivers down my spine. She speaks softly to me:

"Lie down, and I will call the doctor to come and examine you."

I can only nod slightly. Standing outside the door, I see my husband and Andermis watching silently. It is only now that I realise the important question is not "What if I am pregnant?" but rather "What if I am not?" I can see the expectant looks of everyone, including my fussy mother-in-law. It is such a curse that this is just a false alarm for their expectations! I am not sure I can handle it if I am just a normal weight-gaining woman as the doctor may say.