At the very beginning of our relationship, the Knight had told me something I often think of: “In love there is no conquering involved. It’s more like running through open doors.”
Meaning, if a relationship doesn’t come naturally, it is probably not meant to be.
The door might have been ajar for the Witcher and me, but to me it still felt blocked. I don’t know if it would have been better if his approach had been more tactful or if I was just stunned by a situation that was completely new to me.
I felt terrible. Monogamy might be a social construct, but what really mattered was that I was feeling like betraying the Knight’s trust in me everytime I went to visit the Witcher. I didn’t want to be in the same boat as all those people cheating on their partners for fun or the thrill. I would never risk the man I shared my life with for someone who didn’t mean much to me. There was the problem. The Witcher meant a lot to me, I was still madly in love with him. But my raging bad consciousness was stronger.
I often met the Witcher during the following weeks, but I was very reserved. He sensed it right away and did what I now think was the only right thing to do: he took a step back and respected the space I needed. He often hugged me and told me how long he had been waiting to have me in his arms again, but he left it at that. No attempts to kiss me or touch me in a way that was beyond friendship. Though I slept in his bed whenever I was staying for the night, he only put his arms around me and held me until the next morning. One time, when we walked home from his friends at night in the chill spring air, I redundantly told him that I had problems opening up to him because I felt guilty. He said he understood – and he really did. I often apologized, telling him how he deserved a proper girlfriend, one that can be always there for him, to stand by him. Every time his response was that he didn’t care, because I was all he wanted.
Both of us were aware of our feelings for one another, yet we never put it in words.
My love for him had felt right before. Now that it was open, it felt hushed-up and awkward and out of place. It was the wrong kind of right.
There was another reason of discomfort, something big coming up. At first I avoided thinking of it, denied it to myself but I soon had confirmation.
By the end of April I knew that I was pregnant.