Andrew

My fingers furiously tap against the mahogany desk in front of me.

Matthias sits next to me - perfect posture as always. The difference between the both of us could be seen by anyone. While Matthias was a born leader with the professional behavior to match, I was nothing more than the screw up who got a young girl pregnant out of wedlock.

This didn't sit well with my father. To Charles, the careless act was unforgivable, and the permanent commitment of marriage was my punishment. If she would have just aborted the baby like I suggested in the first place, none of this would have happened. Both of us would have been free from the responsibility of raising a child.

I'm taken out of my thoughts when I feel a hand on my shoulder. My consistent tapping stops and I look over to my brother, who is sending me a look of disapproval.

A heavy sigh leaves me and I shrug back into my seat. My foot starts tapping in a rhythmic pattern on the floor, and Matthias groans.

"Can you sit still for one minute?" He grumbles, adjusting his tie as he speaks. "You've been fidgeting in your seat ever since we got here. What's up?"

I clear my throat, and pull at the sleeves of my leather jacket. "Nothing." The expression Matthias wears tells me he's not buying it. After a few seconds, I give in. "Sandra and I have to go to a doctor's appointment for an ultrasound today."

"You're excited." It wasn't a question. Matthias raises a brow at me, a knowing smile following soon after.

"W-what?" I clear my throat and glare at my brother. "No I'm not."

Matthias chuckles. "It's okay for you to be a little nervous. This is your kid - my niece or nephew!"

'Yeah, the kid that should never have happened.' I think bitterly to myself.

The door of father's office opens before my brother can say anything else. He strides in on his mobile phone. Recently, he had bought a new one - this version didn't have that pesky antenna on it like the Nokia that I had.

"I don't care if you think it's impossible," Charles growls into the phone. "You will make it possible, unless you think your job isn't important enough to keep." With that, he ends the call, bringing his attention to the two of us.

For once his face is completely clean shaven instead of the well-groomed beard he usually had, making him appear younger.

Both my brother and I never shared much of an appearance with our father. People always told us that we resembled our mother a lot more. The only feature I share with him is our dark brown hair color. While Matthias has Father's nose, and piercing blue eyes, his hair color is dirty blond - like our mother's.

"Is this going to take long?" I grumble. "I have yet another unwanted appointment I have to attend in..." Keeping a bored expression, I check my watch for the time. "...about an hour."

"Can you not be a cocky piece of work for five minutes?" Charles snarls, his cold eyes dark as charcoal. "I called you and your brother here for a reason, now shut your mouth and listen."

After a few seconds of consideration, I submit, but no without a grunt of frustration. I fold my arms over my chest, and say, "Well, let's get on with it then."

Charles lets out a small huff of frustration, and begins. "Mattias, you are not the only one who will be taking up a few extra responsibilities around here. Andrew," he turns to face me, "you will be helping me around in the office until I find a better position for you around here."

"What?!" I stand, outraged by the idea. Not a day in my life has ever been spent working. Everything had always been given to me, and now he was expecting me to work?

"Sit." Charles' stern voice is full of venom, and his face turns bright red. My father's attempt to keep his anger in check makes me grudgingly take a seat. "You are a married man with a child on the way. It is time for you to take responsibility for your life and stop feeling sorry for yourself. I am sick of you thinking that everything in life comes free to you just because you are my son."

"Dad-" Matthias starts, trying to defend me, but Charles holds up a hand, silencing him.

"It's Sir in the office, Matthias." Father corrects him.

I could see my brother try to refrain himself from rolling his eyes, but I didn't hold that very action back. Being the compliant, perfect son was Matt's specialty, not mine. He was always the one who did everything right while I struggled to reach my father's expectations.

In the eyes of the media, I never did anything wrong. Not once had I attracted the wrong attention from the police, or paparazzi, or even at school during my high school years. Still, I was not good enough for my father since I didn't have a 4.0 GPA, or a college degree in business, like Matthias.

Intelligence was never the problem for me. My laziness was the thing that kept on getting in the way, as well as the thought that all my problems would always be solved by one person: my father.

"Sorry sir," Matthias apologizes.

Charles nods towards his other son, forgiving him for speaking out of turn. A frown is on his face when he turns back to me. "You will learn from your mistakes and figure out how to support your own family. My money pays for your loft, your car, your bills, I even pay your damn groceries, and I am done with letting you do whatever you want whenever you want. It is beyond time for you to start being responsible for your own life."

"You're being unreasonable!"

He laughs, "I beg to differ. You are going to do this, unless you'd rather be cut off completely."

My whole body runs cold. "Okay."

"Excellent." Father claps his hands together before standing up from his chair. "I expect both of you here early in the morning. Matthias, you're free to go."

Before he listens, he sends me a wary look - silently asking me if I'll be okay alone with him. I give him a slight nod, and he's satisfied. "Yes sir."

Once he's gone Charles' whole demeanor changes. The slight frown he usually wore has morphed into a belittling glare. "What the hell am I supposed to do with you? How dare you talk to me the way you do after everything I've done for you. Do you know how fortunate you are that I haven't disowned you by now?"

I try not to let how much my father's words pierce me right where it hurts.

"You're lucky that your mother still cares for you or else you'd be on your own, because I have been done with your nonsense for years. You are such a failure I can't even stand being around you." He continues his rant, and I just take his words until he lets it all out - like usual. "Why you can't be more like your brother and actually do things right is beyond me."

With Matthias in the room with me, I am able to find the strength to retort, When alone against Charles, on the other hand, I freeze up.

"Get out."

"Yes sir." I hiss my words through my clenched teeth. When leaving the room, I slam the door behind me.

"You're late." Sandra closes the door of the passenger seat shut.

"Attitude," I scold her while pressing my foot down on the gas. The humming of the engine fills the silence in the car as we drive down the road.

She crosses her arms - a quiet sign of defiance. When she starts to speak, I think it will be to start some sort of argument, but instead she says something else. "Is everything okay?"

At first I'm surprised by her concern, and for a second I almost want to tell her what is going on. The talk with my father. How much I hate him for hating me. Everything. Luckily, I regain my better judgement and decide against it.

"Nothing," I lie. Even though it is something I'm usually good at, I sound very unconvincing. Sandra doesn't push the topic, so silence returns.  

It's quiet for almost a whole ride to the doctor's appointment, but once our destination is in view, she speaks, "So, are you going to be in there with me?"

I grunt while turning into the parking lot. "Why would I do that?"

An exasperated breath leaves her. "Because this baby is yours too." The disapproving glare she has on her face irritates me. She is the one with that baby in her stomach, so what did it matter if I came in there?

"You are this baby's dad, and that means that you are going to have to be responsible and take care of it." I can hear my father's words in her own, making a pang of irritation flow into me.

"Fine," I grumble and unbuckle my seatbelt.

Sandra looks surprised for a second since I caved so easily. A small smile cross her lips as we both get out of the car and head into the hospital.

Usually people go to hospitals to get better, but it seems that whenever I walk into one, a sick feeling consumes me. I haven't even been here for a whole minute and I already don't feel well. The frequent visits to hospitals those years before Uncle Lucas died ruined everything good about them.

After only a few minutes in the waiting area, we are already called to follow the nurse. We are lead through the halls until we finally get to the room where the ultrasound would be taking place.

The nurse tells Sandra to lay herself down on the examination bed, and she complies.

For a while, I stop paying attention. The fact that I'm once again in a hospital after trying to avoid them for years, is threatening to bring up repressed memories that I'd rather keep hidden. Bile rises to my throat and I squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to shield myself from the world.

"Andy?" Her voice pulls me out of my trance, saving me from diving further into my panic attack. "Andrew?"

"Y-yeah?" I clear my throat, and deepen my tone. "Yes?"

A clear gel has been spread all over Sandra's belly and she's reaching her hand up a little. She looks nervous, but I don't know how me holding her hand would help in any way. I squint at her, and she just pleads with her eyes for me to play along.

I roll my eyes and take her hand - the action causes the nurse to send me a disapproving look, but I ignore it. There was no point in putting on a show for her, and it was hard to think straight being here.

After a while, Sandra doesn't even seem to show any of the nerves she was just having. This makes me realize that she never needed a hand to hold, she was doing this to comfort me.

The nurse - whose name still slips my mind - fiddles with the screen connected to the ultrasound device and hesitates before placing it on Sandra's stomach. "Alert me if you feel any discomfort, okay?"

Sandra nods with a smile and her hold on me tightens. Now, all of a sudden, she's the one who looks nervous again. Strangely enough, I share that same feeling. The more I try to push it away, the more it would come back and hit me twice as hard as before.

When the small device called a transducer is placed on her stomach the screen starts to show a sort of grey static.

"I don't see anything." Sandra points out.

"It takes a second to get a clear picture," the nurse explains. Not much time passes before the static starts to gather to create an actual visual on the screen. "You see that?" She points at a big round figure. "That's the baby's head."

My wife giggles - a sound I haven't heard since the first night we met. "It's so big compared to the rest of its body."

"Fortunately, he or she will grow into it." The nurse smiles and points out a few other body parts as well.

A large smile filled with excitement crosses Sandra's face as she examines the screen. The unnerving feeling that had haunted me ever since I stepped foot into the hospital is no longer bothering me.

Every problem I have ever faced, and will ever face from this point on doesn't seem to matter right now. Until this moment none of the events of the past few weeks seemed real to me, but seeing my child with my own two eyes put everything into perspective.

I was going to be a father, and it was time to start acting like one.