Maame(44)

Am I okay if I’m on the pill? Will tampons be easier to use now? My mum’s going to be furious if I get pregnant—what does God think of me now?

You’re being ridiculous.

Is Ben religious? Does he know that I am, what I call, a modern-day Christian, a Christian who wants to get into heaven without doing any of the dutiful stuff because surely believing in Him is enough of an entry requirement and it’s really hard to go to church every Sunday and then read the Bible every day too and not drink, smoke, have tattoos, gossip, lie, and watch TV and listen to music with none of the aforementioned. “Modern-day,” in this context, is also my own synonym for “shit.”

I should google if I’m going to get pregnant, but my phone is … I wore a dress with no pockets so … in my bag. Downstairs—in the kitchen, but I’m naked. I look down and my stomach’s formed rolls. Shit. But it’s flat when I’m on my back, right?

Who cares? Be a feminist, Maddie!

Can one be a feminist twenty-four seven?

I wrap a towel around myself and tiptoe downstairs for my phone. Without the lights on I bump into the sharp corner of the counter and cradle my bruising rib. I suddenly think, You’re in a stranger’s house.

I grab my phone and return to the bathroom.

Google: Can you get pregnant if you’re on the pill?

If taken correctly, at the same time every day, you’re 97% protected against pregnancy

Approx. 7 in 100 women a year get pregnant despite using the pill

Factors such as your estrogen and progesterone levels must be considered, alongside any medication you may be taking and any bouts of vomiting and/or diarrhea

The contraceptive pill is 99.6% effective



Okay, I think I’m safe. What are the chances I’d be part of the 0.4 percent? Getting pregnant the day you lose your virginity does sound like something that would happen to you.

Can I pee his come out? Is that why you’re meant to urinate after? No, Google says that’s to prevent UTIs.

Sex is currently presenting more cons than it is pros.

I eventually get back into bed and Ben stirs before pulling me onto his chest, kissing the top of my head. “Fuck, I didn’t use a condom, did I?”

“That’s okay. I’m on the pill.”

“How long have you been on?”

“Since I was sixteen.”

“Gotcha,” he whispers, and I can feel him smile against my temple.

“What?”

“Never mind.” He kisses me again and falls back to sleep.



* * *



The next morning, there’s a dull ache between my thighs as I walk to the kitchen.

Ben, dressed in sweats, has his back to me and is on the phone.

“Do we all have to go?” he asks whoever. “You’d better tell me the date again, then. Yes, I’ll be there, put me down with a plus-one. Yeah, she’ll want to come. Thanks, Mike. Bye.”

“Hi.”

He turns around and smiles. “Morning, Maddie.” With the heaviness of last night’s sleep weighing down his eyes and his hair untidy, he looks softer than the night before. “Come here.”

“That sounded important,” I say, walking over.

“The call? No, not really.” He kisses the top of my head and I take a seat on one of the barstools. Ben returns to the coffee he’s making and says, “I wasn’t sure whether to subject you to it. The CEO of my company’s birthday is coming up and he’s decided to throw a thing at the office.”

That sounds awful. “That sounds great.”

“It won’t be. It’ll be lavish and overstated and he’s denied two pay rise requests this month alone.” He pulls me close. “I’ve got you a plus-one, but I won’t be offended if you decide not to use it. If you don’t, maybe I’ll start coughing two days before and suddenly be too ill to attend.”

“No, I’d like to come.” I wouldn’t, but attending work events is a relationship thing, isn’t it? And this is a relationship now, right? “It’ll be fun.”

Ben smiles. “On your own head be it. I was just leaving for a run but wanted to give you something before.”

He hands me a pink rectangular box wrapped in a black ribbon. I suddenly wish I was wearing something other than his T-shirt.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Open it.”

Inside the box, nestled spaciously on pink tissue paper are three macarons—one pale pink, one violet and one green.

“Macarons?”

“These are London’s best macarons,” he says. “I saw them and thought of you.” He pulls my thighs apart and stands between them. “Try one?”

“What? Now?”

“I did intend to give it to you last night, but we got distracted.” He leans in to bite my bottom lip. He smells different today and I wonder if it’s me he smells of. “Have one,” he says.

I look up at him. “Ben, it’s eight in the morning.”

“So?” He kisses me.

If this were all happening on-screen, I’d ask if the macarons were poisoned. Ben stares at me and I can’t decide if his eyes have darkened or if I’m seeing things.

“Okay then.” I really don’t want one but it doesn’t feel like enough of a big deal.