Beyond the Consequences

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Beyond the Consequences Page 8

by Aleatha Romig


  Tony shrugged and smiled at Claire. “My dear, your negotiating skills have been passed on to the next generation. I don’t know how we could possibly argue with that reasoning.”

  Claire sighed. “All right, you two, but we have a wonderful dinner waiting, so after the cupcakes…”

  “We’ll eat dinner,” Nichol and Tony said in unison.

  AFTER DINNER AND a bedtime story, Tony and Claire tucked Nichol into bed and closed her door. Melting against her husband’s side, Claire enjoyed his strong embrace as she let out an exaggerated breath.

  “Are you tired of celebrating, my dear?”

  “I think I am. You have no idea how long it took to cut out all of those hearts.”

  Leading her toward their suite, Tony opened the door to a candlelit surprise. Their private table was set with white linen, a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses, and covered dishes.

  “Tony? What did you do?”

  “Well, I may have been tipped off about the paper and confection celebration.”

  Claire raised a brow. “Who told you? It was supposed to be a surprise.”

  “Shannon may have said something—but don’t be upset with her. When I told her that I wanted her to watch Nichol tonight while I took you out to celebrate, she explained the secret plan. She didn’t want me to ruin Nichol’s surprise.”

  Claire turned slowly, noticing the rose petals strewn across their turned-down sheets. “What is all of this?” she asked as she motioned toward the table. “We already ate.”

  With a devilish grin, he lifted one lid to reveal strawberries.

  “Hmmm,” she replied. “I think I could be persuaded—”

  Before she could finish he lifted the second lid revealing chocolate sauce and whipped cream. Her eyes opened wide. “Tony?”

  He gracefully moved toward her, his eyes darkening with each step, twisting her insides to a painful pitch. As Tony held her close, pressing her breasts against his strong chest, and seized her lips, tired was no longer part of Claire’s thinking. Moments later, his skilled fingers began to unbutton her blouse.

  Less of a protest than a question, Claire repeated, “Tony?”

  His warm breath tickled her exposed shoulder as he whispered, “We don’t want to get chocolate sauce or whipped cream on this beautiful blouse.” Cocking a brow, he added, “Or your slacks, or any colorful lace you have underneath.”

  Holding his shoulders for support as her slacks joined her blouse in the puddle of silk on the floor, she replied, “We don’t?”

  “No, because, my dear, it’s time for our own confection celebration, and if you think our kitchen was messy…” He grinned as his dark eyes sparkled in the candlelight. “…you haven’t seen anything yet.”

  “Hmmm,” she managed, words forming with some difficulty as Tony’s lips followed a path from her ear to her shoulder. Before speech was totally out of reach, she asked, “W-What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. “I wouldn’t want chocolate on this nice shirt either.”

  When she undid the last button, he seized her hand. “My dear, you and Nichol planned your surprise. This is my Valentine’s surprise for you. Do you trust me?”

  Claire nodded, allowing Tony to back her toward the bed, buckling her knees. Wearing only her pink lace bra and panties, Tony’s dark admiring gaze scanned her from head to toe. Each second filled her with both vulnerability and anticipation. Finally, she answered, “I trust you.”

  A lust-filled grin radiated from ear to ear as he heatedly said, “Good. I have something I’d like you to wear. Remember… you said you trust me.”

  Claire’s eyes widened, her breaths becoming shallow as she sucked her lower lip. “W-What do you want—”

  Before she could finish, Tony opened the drawer of her bedside stand and removed her satin sleep mask. Claire’s cheeks rose approvingly as she reached for the mask.

  “No,” he said, as he lifted her dark hair and kissed her neck. “Let me.” Tenderly, he placed the mask over her emerald eyes and secured the elastic band behind her head. “Can you see?”

  “No.” She giggled.

  Her amusement soon morphed to unbridled desire as his sensual caresses traced an invisible line from her cheek to her breasts, teasing the round globes from their lace enclosure. Each time she began to speak, his finger gently touched her lips. When his mouth retraced the path, Claire fell back upon their soft comforter, giving him access to her newly exposed breasts and enjoying the sensation of his warm breath on her sensitive skin.

  Soft moans came from somewhere deep in Claire’s throat as he moved slowly—painfully slowly—down her stomach, touching, caressing, and igniting the flames of her desire. Just before reaching the trim of her panties, Tony stopped. Gasping, Claire reached for him—finding only air in the darkness.

  Before she could sit, she heard her husband. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

  Blood flushed her cheeks as she listened to his sultry tone. Suddenly, she felt his presence on the bed behind her. Within moments, his strong embrace tenderly pulled her back, situating her in front of him. When she leaned back against his bare chest, Claire smiled, her green eyes gleaming under the mask. From what she could tell, they were now dressed—or more accurately, undressed—to match.

  “Open your mouth,” his deep baritone voice dripped with seduction.

  Obediently, she did as he said. Her compliance was rewarded with the rich taste of warm chocolate. Immediately, Claire opened her mouth wider allowing him to place the strawberry upon her tongue. Quickly, she closed her lips, purposely licking the chocolate from his fingers. His chest vibrated with his resonating growl as she sucked each finger clean. All the while, her insides quivered at the sound. Sweet strawberry juice mingled with the decadent chocolate as Claire swallowed.

  “Again,” he commanded.

  This time, cool whipped cream covered the berry and her lips. As she swallowed, Tony captured her chin, turning her toward him and tasted the cream from her lips. The loss of sight had her senses on high alert, making each move unexpected and erotic. Next, Tony gathered her hair and secured it on top of her head with a clip. Before Claire could decipher his intent, the alternating sensation of warm chocolate and cool whipped cream dribbled over her chest. She gasped as he laid her back, moved in front of her, and began to savor the contrasting culinary delights.

  “Oh, Tony,” Claire panted, as the alternating sensations found new and creative locations.

  It wasn’t until Claire’s breathing became erratic and they were both a sticky mess that Tony removed the mask and they came together as one. No longer blinded, Claire’s emerald eyes stared deep into the only chocolate she would ever crave. They moved as one until both of their worlds shattered in blissful ecstasy.

  As they later stepped into the warm spray of the multiple showerheads, Tony kissed his wife and said, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mrs. Rawlings.”

  With a smile glistening with sparks of emerald, Claire replied, “Mr. Rawlings, not so fast—now it’s my turn.” Her husband’s devilish grin was all the encouragement she needed.

  When they finally settled into their bed for the night, Tony pulled Claire close and whispered, “To many more celebrations with Nichol…” He pulled her tighter against his side. “…and more with just the two of us.”

  “To many more…” Claire’s words slipped away as the beat of Tony’s heart lulled her to sleep.

  Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.

  —Winston Churchill

  DR. CARLY BROWN leaned back in her chair and studied Claire Rawlings. “What makes you think you’re ready for that?”

  Claire sat taller. She’d been adjusting well to the decrease in medications. Coming off of them was the next logical step. “Don’t you think that I am?”

  “You seem to be avoiding my question. What makes you think you’re ready to
stop taking your medications?”

  “Well, first, I don’t think I need them anymore. I haven’t had any problems since I was here at Everwood or issues since the dosage has been decreased. I’m going to all of my sessions, both with you and the family counseling that Tony and I go to each week.” She shrugged and a smile graced her lips. “Things are good—better than good. I want to do it on my own, not with the medicine.”

  Dr. Brown nodded. “There’s nothing wrong with needing medication. Millions of people—”

  “Yes, millions of people take anti-psychotic medications. The thing is I understand now what happened to me. I know that my mind couldn’t handle the reality that I’d lost my family forever, so I went away. But I didn’t lose them. I didn’t lose Nichol or Tony. I have them and I’m happy, really happy.”

  “We’re doing tests, monitoring the levels. We’ve made a significant reduction. These are not medications that you can just stop. It’s a process.”

  Claire nodded. “Can we cut the dosage again?”

  “It appears you’re in a hurry. Is that true?”

  Claire fidgeted with the cuff of her blouse’s sleeve. “No, I’m not.”

  “All right, you’re not. Tell me what’s been going on. What have you been doing?”

  “So much!” Her emerald eyes glistened. “I’ve learned one thing, well, I’ve learned a lot of things, but one thing is that every day is a gift. Nichol’s a gift. We missed so much time with her. I was afraid that it would never seem like we were truly a family, but it does.” She looked away from Dr. Brown’s knowing gaze. “I see the way Emily and John look at her sometimes. I know I shouldn’t feel jealous, but I do. They shared a part of her life that Tony and I’ll never have.”

  “How does that make you feel to say you’re jealous?”

  “Like I’m a terrible person. They helped Nichol and us. I should be grateful, not jealous, and now they’re having another baby.”

  “When is your sister’s baby due?” Dr. Brown asked.

  “In another month. We went shopping for clothes the other day.”

  “And Emily is having a…?”

  “A girl,” Claire confirmed. “They’re having a little girl, and they’re naming her after our grandmother Elizabeth.”

  “How do you feel about Emily and John having a girl?”

  “I’m happy. They’re excited and I’m excited for them. I can’t help but think that in some way she’s replacing Nichol. I don’t mean that in a bad way. But for over two years they had two children. Soon they will again.”

  “Is Nichol replaceable?”

  Claire’s eyes widened. “No! That’s not what I mean.” She stood and walked about the office, trying to collect her thoughts. “They were a family of four and now they will be again.”

  “And that makes you feel..?”

  Claire spun toward the doctor. “Happy for them, and maybe a little sad for me.”

  “Help me understand.”

  A tear teetered on Claire’s lid. “They’re getting their family back, the one they had with Nichol. Tony and I will never get that time back.” She dejectedly sat and let out a sigh. “That’s why I think we should cut my medications—not just cut but stop them.”

  “Help me out. How does your sister’s baby relate to your medicines?” Dr. Brown leaned forward. “Before we continue to decrease and maybe even eliminate some of your medications—”

  “Maybe eliminate?” Claire tried to clarify.

  “Listen to me. I’d like you to be honest with yourself and with me. Why do you really want to be off the medication?”

  Tears momentarily blurred Claire’s vision. “I know why.”

  Dr. Brown didn’t speak; instead, she nodded.

  “I want to be me. The medications keep me in the middle. Does that make sense?”

  “Explain, Claire. Help me understand.”

  Claire sat taller. “I feel happy and sad. I become aroused. But it’s all in moderation. I want the highs and lows I used to have. I don’t want to feel detached. It’s gotten a little better since you’ve made some adjustments. I want it to get all the way better.”

  “Hmm. Those are valid requests. I know that from what you’ve told me you and your husband have had an intense past. Do you not feel like it’s the same?”

  Claire shrugged. “It is and it isn’t. We’ve both been through a lot. We’ve changed. Our everyday life is everything I’d ever dreamt of. And yes, we’re physically compatible.”

  “Well, physically compatible… that sounds sexually pleasing.”

  Claire stood again, walked toward the side of the room, and pretended to look at the pictures she’d seen a million times.

  “What is it, Claire?”

  “I think the medicine makes it more difficult for me to…”

  “To become aroused?” Dr. Brown suggested.

  Claire nodded. “I think there’s something wrong with me. When we’re alone together, and Tony’s all sweet and loving, I’m not as into it as I am when he’s more possessive and demanding.” Claire turned toward Dr. Brown. “He’s not mean. I don’t mean that. I just like it when… jeez, I can’t believe I’m saying this.”

  “What you’re feeling isn’t wrong. The medications you’ve been prescribed can affect arousal and sexual functioning; however, for you it appears more than that. Go on.”

  “I like when we’re equal partners outside of the bedroom, but in it, I like when he’s in charge. I don’t want to need him to be that way. I want to be able to like the other times too.”

  “Tell me about the other times.”

  Claire sighed and closed her eyes. Sitting back down, thoughts of her husband came to her mind. “He can be romantic and giving. After all of this time he can take a normal night and make it feel like a date, as if it doesn’t matter that he spent his day making multi-million dollar decisions, as if now I’m the only other person in the world.” Her heart fluttered. “Honestly, that’s the man I fell in love with: the one who would listen to me and talk with me. I didn’t have anyone else: he was my world. I knew that he had other people, and I guess I felt special because he chose to spend his time with me.” Claire met Dr. Brown’s eyes. “Now, we both have other people and he can still do that, still make me feel like it’s only the two of us.”

  Dr. Brown didn’t speak.

  “Those times make me love him more than ever, and I want to reciprocate his love and gestures. I just feel like sometimes there’s a fog, a barrier that I have to push through. And when I hear a more demanding tone or feel a more possessive touch that block goes away.” Claire shook her head. “Before the medication I didn’t feel like this.”

  “What happened early on in your relationship when you heard that tone or felt that touch?”

  Claire swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “I responded.”

  “You responded. What if you weren’t in the mood?”

  “It didn’t matter.” Tears streamed from the corner of Claire’s eyes as she closed her lids. Finally she asked, “Are you saying that that’s what’s happening? I’m responding now, like a conditioned response?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think I love my husband and I want to be with him. I miss experiencing the sweet times and the more erotic times. I want it all.”

  They sat in silence as more tears formed in Claire’s eyes. Her thoughts swirled. This wasn’t where she planned on this session going. She loved Tony with all her heart and soul. She adored the man who made her feel as though the sun rose and set because of her, and she craved the man who craved her. As she contemplated the two Tonys, thoughts of Emily’s baby infiltrated. Claire knew it wasn’t right for her to be jealous of her sister, not after all she’d done for her. However, Emily had experienced all the baby firsts, twice. She’d had them with both Michael and Nichol. Though it was selfish, Claire realized what she truly wanted. It wasn’t only to feel everything, no matter how intense. No, she wanted more than that.

 
Wiping her eyes with a tissue, Claire faced Dr. Brown. “I want another baby. I want to experience the time we missed with Nichol. I don’t want to replace her. That’s not what I mean. But we missed so much. She was a baby—a tiny baby, three months old. We missed her crawling, walking, talking. When we got her back she was a little person with a mind of her own.” Claire wiped the tear from her cheek. “She’s the most beautiful, amazing child, but I want what I missed.”

  Claire’s chest suddenly felt lighter with the verbalization of her realization. It was cathartic. Subconsciously, she’d been thinking about another baby for months now. Every time she talked with Emily about Beth, Courtney about Julia, or saw Sue with her two children. But up until this moment, Claire hadn’t admitted the truth to anyone, not even herself. Getting off the medication was more than about the way it made her feel. It was about wanting another baby.

  “Have you spoken to your husband about any of this?”

  Claire shook her head.

  “Why?”

  “Because, the sex stuff… I don’t want him to feel like he needs to behave one way or another for me. I want his true emotions and that’s what I want to give him.”

  “That’s fair. What about a baby? Having another baby isn’t a unilateral decision.”

  “I know that, and honestly, I think I just fully realized my desire right here, right now.”

  Dr. Brown leaned back against her chair. “How do you feel about wanting a baby?”

  A smile crept onto Claire’s face. “Excited and relieved. It’s something that’s been lurking for a while, and now, I know that’s what I want.” Claire didn’t want to need these sessions, but maybe she did, maybe the talking did help. “Doctor, I also know my husband. He’ll be worried about me. He’s already concerned about the decrease in medications. He’ll be overly concerned about my getting off of them altogether. And when it comes to a baby, he’ll be worried because… because Nichol’s delivery was rather difficult.”

  “Yes, I saw your medical records. The doctor who delivered her sent me his notes.”

  “But this time… this time will be different. We aren’t on some tropical island. I’ll be here in Iowa. Things will be better.”

 

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