Redeeming 6: Boys of Tommen #4

Redeeming 6: Part 3 – Chapter 38



AOIFE

JOEY SAID ALL the right things, made all the right moves, and I found myself, once again, snared to his mattress, with his big body on top of mine.

With our clothes cast aside on his bedroom floor, and our lips a crazed frenzy against the others, he moved between my thighs, burying himself deep inside of my body, filling me to the point of pain, and shattering any hope I had of ever surviving a life without him in it.

His family was falling apart around him, and instead of me supporting him, he was supporting me.

Genuinely feeling like I was losing my mind one hormonal imbalance at a time, I clung to his shoulders, my fingertips digging into his skin, as he built up a rhythm with his hips that directly aligned with the glorious heat building up inside of me.

Pulling up on his knees, he grabbed my hips and moved faster, as each thrust of his hips became more intense – more feverish.

Even now, as my body reveled in the wonderful feelings he could evoke from me, all I felt like doing was bursting into tears; consumed by emotions, by my fear of the future.

All I wanted him to do was hold onto me and never let go, because the unsteadiness of my life, as I balanced precariously close to the edge of the precipice that was parenthood, was terrifying me.

“You good, queen?” His words were a breathless pant, as his chest landed heavily on mine, and he hitched my thigh around his hip, deepening the angle. “You still with me?”

“Yeah.” Nodding vigorously, I pulled his face down to mine and kissed him deeply. “I’m with you, stud.”

“I love you.” His lips were back on mine, his tongue in my mouth, as he fused his body with mine.

“I love you,” I cried out between kisses, as my body burned in pleasure and my heart seized with dread.

He loved me now, but would he love me tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, once the truth came out?

When he realized that I had taken his future from him?

The one he spoke about earlier?

It would never happen for us now.

Whether he tried to mask it or not, his resentment would be unmistakable.

His entire life was one long sequence of shouldering heavy responsibilities, and birth control had been one of the few things I could take care of for him.

It was a responsibility that I had gladly taken on my shoulders; empowered by the level of trust it had taken him to relinquish that control.

I was the one who vetoed a condom our first time; too caught up in my feelings to think about the consequences.

He was the one who suggested we use both the second time – and the third time, and the fourth, fifth and sixth.

I was the one who had naïvely assured him that we were protected every time it came up.

The pattern we had since fallen into had been built on the foundations of his ability to trust my ability to protect us from the very thing we were now facing.

“Get out of your head,” Joey grunted softly, nose brushing against mine, as he pressed another kiss to my lips, and pulled me back to the moment. To him. “Stay with me,” he instructed, green eyes locked on mine. “Be here with me.”

“I am,” I whispered. “I’m with you, Joe.”

With my eyes wide open and focused entirely on his, I forced my fears to the back of my mind, letting my body take over the thinking for me, as I drowned in my feelings for him.

Several hours later, long after he had fallen asleep beside me, I slipped out from under his arm, and quietly grabbed his hoodie and grey sweatpants from the corner of his room, throwing them on, before creeping downstairs, phone in hand.

It was 03:30 in the morning, and his house was in a rare state of silence. I padded into the kitchen, and dialed the phone number I knew off by heart, knowing that regardless of the early hour, my call would not be rejected.

“Hello?” my mother’s sleepy voice came down the line. “Aoife, love, are you alright?”

“Hi, Mam.” Closing the kitchen door out behind me, I exhaled a shaky breath and leaned against it. “No. I’m not.”

Concern immediately filled her voice when she asked, “Where are you?”

“At Joey’s.”

“Are you alright?” she demanded. “Have you two had a fight?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Nothing like that.”

“Okay.” Relief flooded her voice. “It’s half three in the morning, pet.”

“I know, Mam.” I chewed on my nail anxiously. “I just…” I exhaled a pained breath. “I needed to hear your voice.”

There was a long stretch of silence and I heard the ruffling of bedclothes, followed by footsteps padding.

“Okay, I’m in the kitchen alone,” she said a few moments later. “Your father’s upstairs in bed. We can talk.”

Trembling from head to toe, I exhaled a cracked breath. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Start at the beginning.”

“I’m in trouble, Mam.” I heaved out a sob and let my head fall forward. “And I’m really scared.”

“Okay?”

I shook my head, unable to get the words out.

“Aoife.” She sighed heavily down the line, and I could hear the kettle bubbling in the background. “What kind of trouble?”

“The late kind,” I strangled out, lowering myself to the floor, dizzy with anxiety and fear. “I’m late, Mam.”

“Late?”

I nodded weakly. “Late.”

“How late?” she asked evenly. “A few days? A week?”

Shaking, I hooked an arm around my knees and choked out, “Almost thirteen.”

“Thirteen days?”

“Weeks.”

“Jesus Christ.” I heard my mother’s sudden intake of air, and it caused a flurry of panic to skyrocket through me. “Aoife.”

“I didn’t know, okay?” I clenched my eyes shut as I sobbed down the line. “I didn’t realize. I had my last period on the fourteenth of December, and then everything happened between me and Joey, and I just…I lost track, Mam. I had a period at the end of January? Except it wasn’t like a normal period. It was like a little bit of spotting, but I just put it down to hormones, but Casey said that vomiting can affect the pill, and that wasn’t really a period at all and was something called implantation bleeding. I was sick in the new year, Mam. When me and Joe were together? I was really sick for a couple of days, and I’m sorry, Mam. I am so sorry! Please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, love, I could never hate you,” she was quick to soothe, as the sound of a chair scraping off tiles filled my ears. “I just need to sit down and think about this for a moment.”

“Okay,” I sniffled, nodding aimlessly, as tears trickled down my cheeks. “Take your time.”

“Have you taken a pregnancy test?”

“I’ve taken four.”

“And?”

I choked out a sob. “All positive.”

“Oh, Aoife, love.”

“Yeah.” I shrugged, helpless.

“Have you told Joey?”

I shook my head.

“Aoife, does Joey know?”

“Not yet,” I breathed, chest rising and falling quickly. “And don’t tell Dad either, okay? Or Kev – or Nana. Not yet. Not until I talk to Joe.”

“And when do you plan on talking to Joey?”

“I don’t know.” I felt my shoulders slump. “I tried to earlier, but I’m so scared.”

“Aoife, this is Joey’s burden just as much as it is yours. I know you’re frightened, but the boy has a right to know.”

“I know, Mam, okay?” I snapped, chest heaving. “I know. God! I’m trying to work up to it.”

“He’s a good boy,” she was quick to assure me. “He is, Aoife, he’s one of the few good ones, if that’s why you’re avoiding telling him.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because your father and I have known that boy since he was twelve years old,” she replied. “Joey might be rough around the edges, but he’s never been one to shy away from hard work or responsibility. It’s not in his nature.”

“Yeah, Mam, but this is different,” I squeezed out, blinking away my tears. “This is a baby.”

“He won’t turn his back on you,” she promised. “Trust me. I’m your mother. I was put on this earth to worry about you, and when you told me you were late, a million different fears and worries flooded my mind. But never once did I worry about that boy’s willingness to stick by you.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I choked out, resting my head on my knees. “But I just… I need some more time before I tell him.”

Mam was quiet for a long time, clearly reeling in my revelation, until she finally spoke again. “Look, today is Sunday. There’s not much we can do today. I’ll phone the GP first thing in the morning. We’ll get you an appointment as soon as possible, and we’ll go from there.”

“No, no, no, I can’t, Mam,” I cried hoarsely. “I’m not ready.”

“You’re going to have to be,” she stated in that no-nonsense mothering tone of voice that held no room for arguing. “You need to have your bloodwork taken, and have a dating scan. You need to meet with a consultant and put a hospital plan together.” Mam sighed sadly again. “Because, whether you’re ready or not, there’s a baby growing in your belly who won’t wait for anyone.”

“Mam.”

Talk to Joey,” she pushed. “Talk to the boy, Aoife. I promise, you’ll feel a lot better once you do.”

“Are you disappointed in me?” I dared to ask, and then held my breath out of fear of her answer.

“I’m not disappointed in you, sweetheart, I’m disappointed for you,” she replied gently. “You’re eighteen years old, with a big, bright future laid out in front of you, and now it’s… going to be changing course. You’re going to have to grow up way too fast, and I hate that for you, but your father and I will be there every step of the way.”

“Dad. Really?” I flinched. “He’s going to hit the roof, Mam.”

“Let me handle your father,” she replied. “You don’t have to worry about him or Kev. You are our daughter, and you have a home with us now and always.” She paused for a beat before adding, “and you have my unconditional support.”

“I’m so sorry, Mam.”

“Me too, Aoife,” she replied sadly. “I’m so sorry, too, love.”

Ending the call, I slid my phone into the pocket of Joey’s sweatpants that I was wearing, only to still when my fingers brushed over a small plastic baggie.

Tensing, I withdrew the small bag from my pocket and stared down at the tablets in my hand.

It took my eyes a moment to make sense of what I was seeing, and my head a little longer to register the magnitude.

Trembling, I slowly unsealed the bag and poured the contents into the palm of my hand, counting thirty or so small pills, in a several different shapes and sizes.

The majority of the pills were stamped with little numbers: 512. D5. 325. M30. K9.

Beyond horrified, I shoved them all back in the bag and resealed it, before shoving it back in my pocket.

Bunching the sleeves of his hoodie up to my elbows, I sagged against the kitchen door at my back, breathing escalating to the point that I was on the brink of a panic attack.

No.

No.

No, God, please no!

Staggering to my feet, I opened the door and quickly hurried back upstairs to his room, heart racing wildly, as I struggled to restrain my fear from overtaking me.

When my eyes landed on Joey, sprawled out on his back, with his arm slung over his face, still sleeping, I released a shuddering breath and quietly closed the bedroom door behind me.

Fingers trembling, I reached for the hem of his hoodie and quickly dragged it over my head before kicking off his sweatpants.

Desperate to get it away from my body, I threw them back in the corner of his room where I’d found them, before sinking down on the edge of the mattress.

With my hands knotted in my hair, and my elbows resting on my thighs, I sagged forwards, and breathed deep and slow, forcing myself to get a handle on my emotions.

It doesn’t mean anything.

The bag is clearly untouched.

He’s clean.

He’s still trying.

Don’t freak out.

He’s always with you.

You would know if he was using again.

There’s a reasonable explanation for this.

There has to be…

Groaning in his sleep, Joey rolled onto his side and reached for me. “Molloy.”

Shivering, I let him pull me back into his arms and press a kiss to my temple. “Hm?”

“Don’t run,” he mumbled in his sleep, as he draped his arm around my body and spooned me from behind. “Stay, baby.”

“I’ll stay, Joe,” I whispered, clutching onto his forearm for dear life. “If you will.”


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