I get to Kimberley’s door and I knock gently at first. No answer. I bang harder. Still nothing.
“Kimberley? I know you’re in there. I swear if you don’t open this door, I’m going to break the damned thing down. I love you and I need you to know that. Please Kimberley, just hear me out,” I say.
I keep knocking, pleading with her, but if she’s in there, she doesn’t respond. I stop for a moment and consider my next move. Am I really going to kick the door in? Yes, I think I am.
I reach for the handle, ready to press it down and kick beneath the handle. I don’t have to kick it. It springs open when I push down on the handle. I grin to myself. Finally, something has gone right for me. I step into the room.
“Kimberley?” I call. “You might as well just come and talk to me because I’m not leaving until you do.”
The suite has an empty feel to it, and I’m pretty sure Kimberley genuinely isn’t here. I do a quick walk across the lounge area and down the little hallway. The doors all stand open and there’s no sign of Kimberley. I shrug. It’s not the end of the world. I can wait here until she gets back and then she’ll have to talk to me. I know she hasn’t left for London yet, or even moved on to a different hotel because I can see her jacket hanging on the coat hook and the bathroom still had her toiletries in it.
I go back to the lounge area and sit down to wait. I don’t care if I have to wait here all day. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it. My cell phone buzzes and I pull it out. I have to do something to pass the time, so I might as well see who is texting me. Maybe it’s Kimberley. Maybe she had the same epiphany moment as I did and raced down to my office and we missed each other.
It’s not Kimberley. It’s Bernie confirming everything is good at the place I sent her to, and telling me she’s cancelled my day. I grin and text her back telling her she was right earlier. She does deserve a pay rise. And she’s damned sure going to get one. She sends another text message telling me she’ll hold me to that. I smile to myself, knowing she will.
I put my phone back In my pocket and get up. I can’t sit still, I’m too full of nervous energy again. It feels strange being here in Kimberley’s suite without her in it, but I tell myself it doesn’t matter. Once I convince her to stay, she’ll see the romantic side of me being here.
I go to the kitchen area to grab a coffee while I wait, and that’s when I see it. A small white card, innocent looking but anything but innocent. I feel my heart lurch and my hand is shaking as I reach out and pick up the card.
It’s an appointment card for a nearby family planning clinic. She’s already booked the appointment to abort out baby. How could she? I look at the date and time and horror fills me as I see today’s date. I glance at my watch. I have less than forty-five minutes to get to her and stop this.
I’m back off and running to my car, my heart pounding painfully in my chest. Each pulsing beat seems to mock me. There’s no hope for Kimberley and I. She won’t come around. If she can do this to me, to us, kill our baby, then I know we’re never going to be able to work this out.
I can’t get her back. I know that now. But hopefully, I can still stop her from killing our baby. I drive to the clinic on auto pilot, ignoring the beeping horns, the shouted abuse, as I cut people off and narrowly avoid smashing into the car in front of me as it pulls in to park. I don’t bother slowing down or gesturing angrily. What’s the point? It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters except saving my baby.
I park in the clinic’s car park, my car on an angle even a learner driver would be ashamed of. I don’t care. I run into the clinic. I’m ready to demand Kimberley leave the clinic right now. I’ll tell her I’ll raise our baby alone if she really wants no part of this, and I’ll tell her exactly what I think of her for attempting to do this behind my back.
I dash into the waiting room and feel a room full of eyes fall upon me. I barely notice them. I barely notice anything except Kimberley. She’s sitting alone in the corner of the room. Her eyes are the only eyes that don’t fall on me as I burst in. She’s looking down at the ground, and I can see small wet spots appearing on her lemon coloured skirt as tears drip unwiped from her chin. She looks smaller somehow.
Looking at her like that, I know I won’t yell at her. Or demand anything. Seeing her in so much pain hurts me physically. I can’t make that pain worse. I won’t. My plan gone, I no longer know what to say, but I feel myself walking towards Kimberley anyway. As I sit down beside her, she finally looks up. She’s not wearing any make-up and she looks younger, more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen her. I reach out and wipe the tears from her cheeks.
“Sebastian. What are you doing here?” she asks in a small voice. “How did you even know I’d
