by Elena Aitken
Brice pulled her to his lap and deepened his kiss. “You are the most beautiful girl. I just can’t get enough.”
His voice came out in whispered pants and his words sent a thrill through her.
They’d fooled around before. A lot. But this felt different. More…special somehow.
Maybe it was because they were in her spot. Maybe it was because she was sixteen now. But Rylee felt emboldened.
She sat back and let her fingers trace the hem of her top. She’d worn it for him, and he’d noticed. When he’d first arrived at her house, it was the first thing he’d said to her, right after wishing her a happy birthday. He was so in tune with her. The only one who got her anymore. The only one who noticed her. And cared.
Slowly, she lifted the top up and over her head, leaving her only in her bra.
It was a warm night but the breeze coming off the river was cool. Normally she would have been chilled, but Brice’s eyes watching her heated her through.
“You are so beautiful.” He pulled her to him and kissed her neck before lowering his mouth to her chest. She’d never let him go so far before but it felt so good she didn’t even hesitate when he reached around to her back and released the clasp of her bra.
Brice let out a small groan and she could feel him harden beneath her. The thrill of it terrified her and excited her all at once.
Were they going too far? Was it too fast?
He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “I love you, Rylee. You know that, right?”
No. They weren’t going too fast.
She thought her heart might explode right out of her chest, and she couldn’t say the words back fast enough. “I love you, too. So much.”
He kissed her then and his hands were on her, holding her, touching her and it felt…wonderful. Brice shuffled back and lifted Rylee off his lap so that she was sitting next to him and he could shift his position so he was in front of her, taking off his own shirt, and then he moved so his arms were on either side of her. He cocooned her and kept her safe. He braced himself on one hand while the other slid down her body. When he reached the button of her jeans, she drew in a sharp breath.
Brice froze. “Is it…I mean, we don’t have to…I just thought…”
Rylee’s brain spun in a million directions. Have to what? Is he…would I? Should I?
“It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I want to.”
“You do?”
She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “I do.”
“Yes?”
“Yes!” She almost yelled the word. It all seemed so crazy, so…terrifying. But so exciting all at the same time.
He smiled and his hair flopped over her eye in that way and he kissed her again. “Don’t worry.” He pulled back a little. “I have protection.”
She hadn’t even thought of that. Oh my God, was she really ready for this? He pulled out a condom and Rylee didn’t know whether she wanted to pass out or cry or kiss him. Or all of the above. Or none of the above.
But then their pants were off and then their underwear and they were kissing again and it felt good and right. She could feel him, hard and hot against her, and she just wanted to feel more. Feel his love. Feel…something.
“It might hurt a little. Are you—”
“It’s okay.” She bit her bottom lip and looked up into his eyes. With the setting sun, she could barely make out the little green flecks she liked to look at when they were close. All of a sudden, she wished desperately for more light because she needed to see his eyes, but then it was happening.
And it hurt.
She gasped and he stopped and looked down at her in question. He would stop if she asked him to; she knew he would. All she had to do was say no. Instead, she smiled. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
And then he didn’t ask again; he just kept going and it wasn’t okay. And she wasn’t okay.
Hot tears slipped from her eyes and down her cheeks, but Brice didn’t notice because his eyes were squeezed shut and his face twisted up as he thrust into her over and over. Rylee was suddenly glad for the dim light because she no longer wanted to see anything.
Her back scraped against the rocks in the grass as he moved faster and faster on top of her. Every time he grunted, Rylee swallowed back another sob. Not that he would notice. He was enjoying himself and that was good, right?
She’d wanted to feel him.
She turned her head and focused on the sound of the river. The way it flowed over the rocks.
And then with a final grunt and a shudder, it was over and Brice rolled off her. She turned and scrunched her legs up to her chest as she faced the river.
“That was…” He’d moved so he was pressed up against her back. The heat of him warmed her scratched back, and he wrapped his arm around her. “Was it…was it okay?”
She nodded, unable to speak.
“Oh good.” The relief was evident in his voice and something about the insecurity of it made Rylee feel better. “I was worried it might hurt you. Did it?”
She nodded, not willing to lie.
“I’m sorry.” He kissed her shoulder. “I really do love you, Rylee.”
It wasn’t even late when Rylee pulled her new car back into the driveway, but of course the party was long over. Her friends would have all gone home when they didn’t come back.
She’d dropped Brice off at home and he’d given her a hug and told her again that he loved her.
Almost like he was trying to convince himself.
She hadn’t said it back.
She no longer was sure of anything.
Mostly, she felt numb, like her brain hadn’t quite caught up to what her body had just experienced.
Was she supposed to feel different?
Besides a sort of a sore, achy feeling between her legs, she felt exactly the same.
Except for the numbness.
Her house was dark when she walked in the front door. That was weird. It was only nine o’clock and she hadn’t even told her parents she was going out. They didn’t even call to check on her.
But then again, why should they? She was sixteen, almost grown, and they obviously had a bigger problem—like her new baby brother or sister. Besides, her grandma probably told them she’d taken her car out.
Still. It would have been nice if they were even just a little bit worried.
She popped her head into the garage. Maybe they’d gone out.
Her mom’s car was there. Her dad’s was gone.
She looked across the empty space to the workshop bench where a large bakery box sat.
Her cake.
She’d been so desperate to take off in her car, she’d forgotten about her birthday cake. It seemed her parents had forgotten, too, since it was still in the garage.
Rylee took it into the kitchen and lifted the box lid.
Happy Sweet Sixteen, Rylee.
She scoffed.
There wasn’t much sweet or happy about it.
She swiped a finger through the icing, smearing her name, and stuck it in her mouth.
Now, that was sweet.
She did it again, this time scooping up a little bit of cake with it. And then again. Until her hands were covered in chocolate and buttercream and she’d eaten a hole right out of the center, obliterating the words written in purple icing.
Full, and feeling more than a little sick, but not quite as numb, Rylee left the cake on the middle of the counter, washed her hands and filled a glass of water before she turned out the lights and padded upstairs.
There was no light on under her mom’s bedroom door. But maybe she was still up. Rylee hesitated. She’d been pulling away from her mom—or rather, she’d been running away from her—for the last few weeks. But the desire to talk to her, to tell her what had just happened was so strong it made her want to cry.
They’d had all of those awkward talks over the years. The most recent one was only a few months ago after Rylee had come home from school where they’d had a gues
t speaker in talking about sexual health. She’d wanted to die of embarrassment when her mom first came and sat on her bed. “Rylee, if you have any questions about what they talked about today, you know I’m always here for you.”
“I don’t have any questions, Mom.” She’d stared at her pillow and picked at a string that was starting to unravel.
“But if you did, Rylee...or if you were ever considering…” Her voice was softer and something about it made Rylee look up into her eyes.
“Mom, I’d tell you.” And in that moment, Rylee knew she meant it. For as much as her mother could drive her crazy sometimes or be too involved in her life, she really did love it. And she loved her mom. There was no one else she felt closer to. Not even Sienna.
“You would?” Her mom looked so happy that Rylee almost laughed. “Like when you think you might be ready, and—”
“Mom.” She cut her off with a smile. “I’ll tell you. I promise.”
When she’d made that promise, Rylee hadn’t even been dating Brice. Sex wasn’t something she was even considering. At least not in a real way. A lot had changed in a few short months. A real lot. In all of the ways.
But not everything had changed. She still wanted desperately to talk to her mom. To tell her that she’d lost her virginity and it had been… More than talking, Rylee just really wanted a hug. She needed her mom to hold her close and stroke her hair back from her face. She wanted to feel her mom’s arms around her, and know that no matter what, everything would be okay.
Rylee lifted her hand to knock on the door.
As much as she wanted all of that, she knew she couldn’t have it. Things had changed. The mom she wanted to talk to and hold her was the mom of before. The one who noticed her, asked how she was doing, the one who remembered her birthday.
A tear streaked down her cheek. Things were different now.
She let her hand drop to her side.
Things were very different now.
Quietly, she walked down the hall to her room and locked the door before lying on the bed and crying hot tears into her pillow.
Maren
The only other time Maren had gone to bed so early was five years earlier when she’d come down with a terrible case of the flu. Only unlike that time, when she could blame her vivid and often terrible dreams on the fever she was battling, this time the only thing she could blame on the dreams that plagued her was the reality she finally woke up to.
Davis was the father of Sabrina’s baby.
Even in the light of a new day, it sounded terrible.
No. It sounded far worse than terrible. Her husband had slept with her best friend and not only that, she was pregnant with his child. Worse still, they’d lied about it for almost seven months. And just to put the nail in the coffin of her heart, she, too, was pregnant with his child. At forty.
Her life was a fucking soap opera.
Do they still even have soap operas?
For whatever reason, the thought made her giggle as she made her way downstairs, where her laughter stopped short.
The kitchen was remarkably tidy considering there’d been a party there the night before. A party she’d completely bailed on and left to others to take care of. But that’s not what made her freeze.
The box from the bakery sat in the middle of the counter, the lid flipped back and an obvious hole from the middle, missing.
Rylee.
Maren’s heart squeezed. How could she have left her daughter’s party? Especially without singing “Happy Birthday”?
She was a complete failure as a mother.
A month ago, she never would have dreamed of doing that to Rylee.
Of course, a month ago she hadn’t just found out she was pregnant again at forty and that her husband was also about to be the father of her best friend’s baby.
The nausea hit her so fast, she sprinted to the bathroom and only barely made it before emptying the very meager contents of her stomach.
This couldn’t be happening.
It had to be a really bad dream or a big practical joke or…
From the kitchen, she heard her cell phone ringing and cursed the fact that she’d taken it off silent minutes before.
Without rushing, she went back to where she’d left it and looked at the screen of her phone.
Davis.
Oh yes, it was happening all right.
She hit Ignore on her phone and automatically moved to make herself a cup of tea. While the water was boiling, the phone rang again. And then again.
She ignored it both times. It wasn’t until the tea was steeping that she picked up her phone.
Maren ignored the countless texts and missed calls from Davis. There were none from Sabrina.
Good choice.
She scrolled and found her message thread with Jessica. There were three messages. The first sent the night before.
* * *
We cooked all the burgers. Teenagers eat a lot! Cleaned up for you, too. I hope everything is okay?
* * *
She owed Jessica and her new boyfriend who Maren only vaguely remembered meeting the night before. She was a good friend for taking over the party for her without so much as a word of explanation.
The next message was sent two minutes after the first.
* * *
Oh, I couldn’t find Davis to tell him we were leaving. Or Rylee. Is everything okay, Maren?
* * *
Automatically, Maren went to look out the front window. Rylee’s car was there. A rush of relief washed through her. Rylee must have gone out after the party. Obviously she should have known that. Should have given permission and waited up for her to be back by curfew, but…
She didn’t even bother checking for Davis’s car. Maren knew instinctively that he wasn’t there. He wouldn’t have stayed. Although it had surprised her to hear he hadn’t stayed to help out with Rylee’s party. Had both of them bailed on their daughter’s party? If her world wasn’t already in free fall, Maren would have cared about that more.
The third text message from Jessica had come in earlier that morning. Only about twenty minutes earlier.
* * *
I’m worried about you, Maren. Is everything okay??? Let me know before I panic.
* * *
Maren typed a quick response so Jessica wouldn’t be compelled to call in back up.
* * *
Nothing is okay. I’ll explain later. Thank you for last night.
* * *
She’d only just sat down at the table with her cup of tea when there was a knock on the back door. She didn’t bother looking up. It wasn’t Jessica.
“Maren. Open the door,” Davis called to her through the glass. “Please.”
Finally, she looked up. She worked hard to keep her gaze steady despite her racing heart, but she didn’t move to open the door. He had a key.
“Maren?”
The sound of her name on his lips made her want to scream. She kept her gaze fixed straight ahead. It wasn’t until she’d seen him standing outside, his hair mussed up, the stubble shadowing his chin, his eyes red and bloodshot, and generally looking like hell that Maren came up with a strategy for how she would handle the situation.
She’d stay calm.
It wasn’t much of a strategy, she could admit, but it was all she had. And as much as she wished she could rewind the clock to a time before she’d seen the text messages or walked into the kitchen and seen them embracing or even…well, she wasn’t sure when…she couldn’t.
“Maren?” He looked as if he were going to cry. Still, she didn’t look away. “I’m coming in, Maren. We need to talk.”
As much as she wished that wasn’t true, it was. They did need to talk.
She waited as he turned the key in the lock and stepped tentatively across the threshold into their kitchen that up until less than twenty-four hours ago had been her favorite room in their house.
“We need to talk,” he said again once he stood in front of her.<
br />
“It would seem that we do.” To keep her hands from shaking, she wrapped them tighter around the mug, barely noticing the heat burning her skin. “Sit down.” She didn’t even recognize her own voice and judging by the confused look on his face, Davis didn’t either.
She had no idea what she was going to ask or how she was going to approach him. But at some point during the night, she’d had a thought. Almost a glimmer of hope that there could be an explanation for what the hell had happened. Because there had to be an explanation. Something more than her husband and best friend had carried out an affair. There just had to be.
“I can explain,” Davis said the moment he sank into his seat across from her.
Of course he could. Because there was an explanation. She was right. A slight weight lifted from her chest and for half a second, Maren could breathe again.
And then he started talking.
“I didn’t want to tell you, Maren. I knew it was just going to—”
“Wait.” She stopped him. The weight settled back on her chest. “You didn’t want to tell me? That’s your explanation?”
He shook his head, and dropped his gaze. “Well, no. That’s not the explanation.”
“Okay, good.” She almost chuckled a little. “Because I know there is one, right? I mean…” She hesitated before sharing with him the theory she’d come up with in the middle of the night. After all, it was crazy. But what part of what was going on wasn’t crazy? “I get it,” she said after a minute. “I don’t like that you lied to me,” she added. “But I guess I understand it.”
His head snapped up. “You do?”
“I do.” She nodded and let herself fall into the explanation that she was very quickly convincing herself was true. It had to be. “I mean, Sabrina decided she wanted a baby, and because she was single, obviously she needed a donor.” Maren barely registered Davis’s facial expressions as she spoke; she just let the words fall from her mouth, explaining the entire situation so it finally, mercifully, made sense. “And I know Sabrina probably doesn’t have much in the way of a savings account and of course artificial insemination is so expensive. So, yes, Davis. I get it.” She released one hand from the tea mug and pressed it palm down on the table in front of her. “You helped her out.” She announced her theory and once more the weight lifted from her chest because although no, it was not an ideal situation, at least it wasn’t as bad as the alternative.