Iseult sat by the pool, watching as Saraid floated, eyes closed. The other girl had come straight to the pool upon their return to the house, and Iseult knew better than to disturb her friend. Instead, she sat with her feet dangling in the water, ready to retrieve Saraid if she intended to drown herself. She was in a horrifically fragile state right now; killing herself would be the one way to escape the unedurable pain she was in, and Iseult prayed she wouldn't take that path.
Sunk in despair as she was, Saraid had no intentions of drowning herself. She hated the position she was in, and even though she knew it wasn't her fault she'd been raped, she still cursed herself for her stupidity in trusting Kate and Quinn would throw a semi above-board party for a change. The fruits of her stupidity were now growing inside her, and she cursed Conor Ryan, not just for raping her, but for being the father of her child. He wouldn't care much for pursuing his rights, but his mother would, and Saraid wished herself as far away from Ireland as possible, so she could raise her child in peace, far from the machinations of two bitter old women with nothing better to do with their time but be bitter old cunts.
For, as angry and upset as she was, she wasn't about to murder an innocent life out of spite. The life growing inside her was small, but it was a life, and Saraid had no plans on murdering a child who had no part in its father's cruelties. Raising the child was out of the question, but birthing it was something Saraid intended to see through to the end. And she'd never let either of those two horrible women a chance to even see their mutual grandchild, let alone try and take the baby away. Sophia and Nora were not the sort of women who deserved the raising of a helpless baby, and Conor was an equally unpalatable option.
Saraid opened her eyes. "I'm going to birth this child," she said, before taking a deep breath and letting herself go underwater. Instantly, she felt at calm, her pain a distant memory as she sank, letting the air out of her lungs in a slow trickle. Here, she was safe, almost as if in her mother's womb (though her mother was a rotten old bitch, surely she hadn't been so when pregnany with her children), and here, she didn't have to worry about the future of herself or her unborn child.
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When almost all her air had been let out, Saraid pushed off the bottom and surfaced, blinking water from her eyes. Iseult was watching her worriedly, and she gave her friend a wan smile. "I'm grand," she said. "Well, I'm not, but I will be."
Iseult sighed in relief. She'd had a heartstopping moment when Saraid had gone under, and she'd genuinely feared her friend was about to do the unthinkable. "We'll help you every step of the way," she said, blinking back tears of relief. "But your mam's going to be a serious hurdle."
"I'll tell her where to go, how to get there, and what to do when she gets there," Saraid said heatedly, feeling the first stirrings of life make their way through her body. It was an odd sensation, coming back to life after feeling like the walking dead, and Saraid smiled again. Her heart was still sore, but she knew that, eventually, she'd return to her normal self. It would take some time, but she had good friends at her side, ready to stand between her and her mother.
And she was going to need all the help she could get.
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