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Gerard's POV

Ophelia held tight to my arm as we walked into the bathroom.
"What's it say?" She asked, her head turned away from the tests.
"It uh... It says you're... you're pregnant." I whispered. Ophelia exhaled and looked at the tests.
"Oh my god."
"What are we going to do?"
"Well, when my sister found out she was pregnant four years ago her options were marriage or abortion."
"Really? That's it?"
"Well, my mum said 'If you're going to disgrace this family, do it. If you want us to stay in good standing, get an abortion, and then wait and you can have a real baby.' My mum is kind of worried about our reputation since we moved to America. In Liverpool, it was just like 'Oh, okay, they have money' but here, my parents go involved in all thoseweird socialite kind of thing."
"What do you want to do?"
"I'm not about to go and kill an innocent human being, but I don't really love you Gerard."
Well, I'm not exactlt in love with you either, but I mean it's not like we have to fall in love. We just have to stay married until one or the other of us falls in love with somebody else. That's it."
"Are you sure this is what you want Gerard?"
"Positive Ophelia."

Ophelia's POV

I remember the look on my mum's face when we marched into her bedroom, mid-massage, and informed her that I was pregnant and we were getting married. It was like she'd been punched in the stomach. I almost laughed, but I had to keep my composure. We were asked to wait patiently in her sitting room while her massage was finished. She looked rediculous when she finally came out in her bathrobe with a towel on her head.
"Now, let's think logically about this... You're sixteen and eighteen. What makes you think you're fit to raise this child?" My mother asked in her practiced American accent.
"Well, we were hoping that we could live here until we had both graduated from college and had jobs."
"That's fine by me, but you're going to have to discuss this with your father. He's uin his bedroom."
"Okay... and Mum... drop the accent, everybody sees right through it."
"Just... get out. I have such a headache, and you're only aggrivating it."
"Oh, I am so sorry!" I sarcastically said, pulling Gerard to his feet and dragging him into my father's bedroom, which was down the hall, five doors down. My father had wanted a divorce from my mother since we had moved to America when I was five. At that point, my mother had already been here for a few months without us, and gotten our family name to me a famous one in the town, so she wouldn't dare be faced with the scandall of a divorce. So when we built the house, my mother built a room far from hers where my father and his girlfriend could live in peace.
"Afternoon, Lucy. Is my father in here?" I asked as I walked into my father's sitting room.
"Yes, he is. He's just getting out of the shower though, so it'll be a minute." Lucy said sitting on the chouch braiding my half sister's red hair.
"So, Stacey, how would you like to be the flower girl at my wedding?" I asked sitting down next to my four year old sister.
"Can I wear a pink dress?"
"Of course you can."
"Oh, Ophelia, you aren't pregnant, are you?" Lucy asked, letting go of the hair she had in her hands. Stacey grunted in frustration as her hair fell in her face.
"Actually, I am." I said tutning Stacey around to face her mother and braiding her hair. The room was completely silent as I finished the braid that Lucy had started.
"Thank you!" Stacey said as she scooted herself off the couch and skipped into her bedroom.
"Well, if you're going to get married before this baby is born, we're going to have to start planning now." Lucy finally said.
"We were actually thinking a quick ceremony at city hall. That way there's really no fuss."
"Well, that's fine, but you understand how disappointed your father is going to be, right?"
"At least she had the sense to make a descision that will help her family, and not hurt it." My dad said as he came into the room and hugged me.