The Arrangement

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The Arrangement Page 8

by Jennifer Hartley


  The front door opened. Eric, arms laden with art supplies, glared at the alarm beeping. He lowered one of the packages to punch in the code. He picked it up and walked the short hallway to the door. Again he put his purchases on the floor as he dug out the key from his pocket.

  “Love?” He called out while bringing the bags to the living room. He had to make two trips before deciding he earned a drink. He found orange juice in the fridge and helped himself to a glass. He saw a used glass on the sink. “Sasha?” He called out again.

  “In here!” She answered from the bathroom. “Uh, I’m in the shower!”

  He grinned. Sasha in the shower. He took a shower last night, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to be with his naked, red-faced pretty. He sauntered toward the bathroom and opened the door. “Love - ” he started to say.

  Sasha shouted, startling him. Eric sidestepped a short white wand that suddenly curved in the air toward him. He watched it fall on the floor, wondering what his wife was doing with a straw.

  Except it wasn’t a straw.

  He stared at it, realized what it was then looked at Sasha.

  She was red and shaking. She was looking at him with . . . was it fear?

  “I’m late,” she whispered.

  Four

  Eric didn’t trust his legs to carry him to the edge of the tub without tripping. He walked as if on glass, a very slight grimace on his face. He caught the flinch in Sasha’s features. No, he was not going to apologize. Why did she not tell him? How could she tell him everything but not this? It felt like all they’d achieved and built together was crashing down. Sasha turned away, staring wordlessly at the sticks arranged neatly by the sink.

  “You should have told me.”

  “I didn’t know how.” Her voice was small as she stared at them. He watched her pink knuckles turn white, clenching her fists, and noted the quick pulsing at the base of her throat.

  Alright. He could give her that. Still, he wanted to rage at her. You can tell me you love me but not that you might be pregnant?

  “How much longer?” His voice was sharp, making her jump. He sighed loudly and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “One more minute.”

  “The first one.” He said. “It’s a negative?”

  She nodded.

  What was he supposed to say? Good? Congratulations? Fuck?

  He wrung his hands, noticing this time a thick blue vein that stood out from the side of Sasha’s neck. It was like a dark slash on her pale skin and looked grotesque on the delicate line of her. Her nostrils flared as she breathed sharply. He wondered if he should go to her, press a kiss below the sensitive spot of her ear. Maybe he should take her in his arms, but there was a prickliness to her demeanor now.

  Like her, he didn’t have a fucking clue on what to do. He needed some reassurance, too, but the specifics of it were elusive.

  As she chewed her lip, he spoke.

  “How many days has it been? How late are you?”

  She gave him her big blue eyes. “F - f - five days today.” Her chin wobbled.

  He should have known, damn it. For three days of their honeymoon, she had her period. He remembered the vivid red spots on her cheeks when she stammered that they couldn’t fuck. His hand was under her shirt then, fingers splayed on a breast that felt rounder and firmer. He assured her that he didn’t mind, but if she was uncomfortable they could wait.

  She stammered yes, her eyes looking too blue and big, but the tightness in her jaw told of her determinations. It also called for his lips. They fucked on thick, dark towels. She was tighter than the first time, and her pussy was honeyed furnace. It was mesmerizing seeing the scrunch in her forehead melt away, the doubt in her gorgeous eyes flee as her mouth fell open, and tight whimpers slipped out. As soon as it was over, she was on her feet and running to the bathroom.

  But she liked it, she admitted afterward, his nose pressed against her nape. Though tired, his hand still roamed her body, gently squeezing her breasts and coaxing her nipple to tighten into a berry. She liked it very much, but it was very awkward for her.

  The following month, he walked up to Sasha in the bedroom, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of her bare thighs and long legs under her skirt before slipping a hand underneath. He was surprised to find her pussy pleasingly plump. She reddened and gasped they couldn’t. There was panic in her eyes, and her cheeks burned redder by the second. He didn’t press, but yes, he was disappointed. He reassured her with a kiss and whispered he would wait until she was up for it.

  They were at the end of the month, and Sasha had yet to refuse him for that reason. He should have known. He had been way . . . too happy, probably, at the verdict and Sasha never mentioning the original agreement they had for getting married. He attributed the gentle fullness of her breasts and the shy roundness of her hips to being able to eat healthy food regularly. She was less scrawny than before.

  “But if the first test is negative and it’s been five days . . . ” He was confused.

  “Tests have high accuracy, but they’re not one hundred percent. I looked it up online. And it says on the box.” Her phone buzzed, and she jumped. “It’s time.”

  He joined her. His mind was a muddle right now, but it didn’t mean he’ll be on the sidelines while she dealt with this unexpected development. He took her hand and discovered it was clammy. She squeezed back, almost crushing his. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the second stick.

  “N - negative,” she whispered.

  “Okay. Two negatives.” Eric nodded. “That’s . . . I mean, it’s not bad, right?”

  “I - I suppose. Eric, I swear I’ve not missed a single pill. I take it correctly.” Her eyes betrayed her anxiety, and Eric felt sick realizing that she thought he would be angry at her.

  “Love, come on,” he said, pulling her close. She was shaking and sweating all over. Her cheek felt cool and moist. “You know I don’t think that.”

  “This has never happened before,” she wailed.

  “A lot of what’s happened is unlike anything you’ve had. Come here.” He urged her to rest her chin on his shoulder. He embraced her, rubbing her back to ease the tremors from her body. Fuck, her shirt was heavily damp.

  Despite the tension between them, their lips met in a kiss. Sasha’s hands lay loosely on his chest as her dry, chapped lips rubbed against his. He held her by the hips, gently rocking her against his growing arousal. He breathed in her sweat and fear, kissing her harder and deeper to banish them.

  They were still kissing when Sasha’s phone buzzed again. They froze. Eric could hear the seams of his shirt beginning to tear because of the tightness of her grip. She leaned her forehead on his and closed her eyes. Her phone continued to ring the alarm.

  Eric kept an arm around her as he picked up the test. He took a deep breath.

  “Negative.”

  Sasha sagged in his arms so heavily he thought she had fainted. “Oh, god,” she groaned.

  “Come on. I think we both need to lay down.”

  He felt her nod before she pulled away. She turned off the alarm and looked at him, revealing her glazed, wide eyes but not exactly focusing. He pulled her to the bedroom and had her sit down. Her t-shirt clung to her, showing the tight press of her nipples and growing sweat stains under her arms, her back, around her neckline. She was going to end up with fever if she didn’t relax, so he started removing the sweaty clothes from her, including her track pants. They were the color of bright blue. The waistband was nearly black from sweat. She looked away in embarrassment as he pulled off her panties. They were also damp with sweat.

  Eric took her robe from the chair and draped it over her. She huddled under it and let him hold her against his chest. She was still trembling.

  “It’s alright,” he told her, rubbing her shoulders, dropping kisses on random parts of her face. “Love, it’s alright. We’re not . . . there’s no baby.”

  “But I’m so fucking late,” she whispered
. “It’s not . . . it’s not normal.”

  “This has never happened before?”

  “No. Not even when Dad died. I’m always regular.”

  “We can go to the doctor, have it checked - ”

  “No.”

  The sharpness of her reply had him looking at her curiously. Sasha flushed, although her pallor remained pale.

  “E - Eric, I’m - I still remember too well the last time I was examined. I’m just . . . I’m not yet comfortable getting prodded or having to undress before a total stranger.”

  “Of course,” he agreed. That was one memory he wished to forget. That was the first time she had really reached out to him, gave him her trust. “But . . . if it’s still not . . . Sasha, we’ll have to get you examined.”

  She groaned and pressed her face against his neck.

  “Let’s discuss it later.” He wasn’t feeling too good himself - there was too much oxygen entering his system, yet he felt dizzy. He pulled her down the bed with him, his hold around her secure. Half her body lay on top of him, but he didn’t dislodge her, nor did he want to. Her hand climbed to his chest, resting right on top of his heart. He put his hand over hers.

  “Your heart is beating so fast.”

  He nodded.

  “I’m sorry, Eric.”

  “What for?” He watched her raise her head to look at him. “Hey, pretty. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

  “B - But we said . . . we said from the start,” she cleared her throat, flushing, “that there would be no baby.”

  “And there is no baby.” He said, feeling his throat well up.

  “What if - what if - Eric, I promise you,” Sasha suddenly sat up, making him feel bereft and alone despite the mere inches between them. “I never - I always take the Pill. I never miss it - ”

  Eric felt sick again. He sat up too. “Not for one second did I think that, Sasha.” She was looking at her lap, clearly devastated. He put a finger under her chin to coax her into looking at him. Watery blue eyes stared back. “And if you were pregnant - ”

  His voice faltered. Yes, what if Sasha was pregnant?

  Having a child was never part of their agreement. He wouldn’t do that to her. As ambivalent as he felt right now at the idea of Sasha with child, his child, he knew he would feel like shit for putting her in that situation. Sasha’s whole life lay just ahead, and she had been derailed for so long, and so cruelly. Music was her life, and he was going to do everything within his power that it remained so.

  They would have to explore more certain means of contraception, that’s all, he decided. The burden of the responsibility shouldn’t just be on her but also on him. At least he should start pulling out. Stock up on condoms right away. Sasha was not going anywhere, was she?

  She has not asked me about our arrangement. Maybe she wants to give this marriage a chance.

  He didn’t know whether to be ecstatic or reach out and shake her. Why won’t she still tell him she loved him? Why did she still keep it a secret? What was she so afraid of?

  She might be waiting for me to bring it up, he realized.

  Eric started feeling dizzy again.

  Sasha up woke up earlier than her usual time the following day. She was curled up against Eric’s back, and he held her hand to his chest. For a few seconds, she just stared sleepily at the thick, golden waves of his hair, smelling his faded aftershave and slight sweat.

  Waiting for the results of the pregnancy tests had been harrowing. Sasha had felt a fear unlike anything before - it was nothing like the kind she felt on the floor of Carl’s study or the one that gripped her as she waited for the verdict. She could face Eric’s anger but not him thinking she had gone behind his back and got herself pregnant.

  They slept on and off through the night. They tried talking about the possibility of her being pregnant, but that was unresolved. She didn’t want to press because she still had to get used to the idea she wasn’t pregnant. There should be relief but nothing. Oh, she felt something. She just didn’t know what it was, if it even had a name.

  She felt Eric leave the bed at one point, but he only left long enough to get rid of his jeans and climb back in beside her wearing only a t-shirt and boxers. She too left a while later to pee. She must have awakened him because when she returned to his side, he was quick to put an arm around her waist and haul her close to his chest. Before she fell asleep, his hand slipped in the opening of her robe and clutched at her breast.

  She took care extricating her arm from his body, not wanting to wake him. Eric still stirred but remained unmoving. She kissed him on the shoulder and slid off the bed as quietly as she could then went to the bathroom.

  The tests were still on the sink. She stared at them, confused at the loss she felt. Why did she feel this way? She couldn’t understand it. Why was there a feeling of loss? She was never pregnant. They agreed never to have children. He married her to save her. That’s it.

  You should have remembered that before loving him.

  She quickly turned away from the mirror and sat on the toilet. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Eric’s baby. She didn’t know if she wanted a baby. But if there was one, right now, she wouldn’t be completely averse to it. That she was sure about.

  She blinked and gasped at the trickle of tears. God, what a fool you are. Hastily, she swiped her fist across her eyes. She sniffed, trying to stop more from coming. Her vision clear, she tore some toilet paper sheets from the roll to wipe herself clean. As she did, she felt an odd stickiness. She frowned and looked between her legs.

  Well. She was definitely not pregnant. She got more sheets and wiped herself.

  She removed her robe and stepped in the shower. Despite the warm water, she was shivering. She was quick to shampoo her hair and soap her body, doing the latter so roughly that her skin was pink, the water stinging as she rinsed. She took a tampon from the medicine cabinet.

  Eric was coming awake, rolling to her side of the bed and raising his head as she reached the top of the stairs. “Love,” he said, raising himself up on an elbow, his gaze and smile sleepy but warm. He may just be looking at her, but it was enough for her knees to wobble, for her breath to stutter.

  “Hi.”

  “Come here,” he held out his hand, and she tried to be not too quick or eager to go to him. She laced her fingers through his as she sat beside him, closing her eyes as he kissed her. He tasted of sleep and home. She sank against him, drawing a soft groan from his throat as he caught her around the waist and pulled her down on top of him. They kissed for a while until she pulled away, slipping beside him.

  “How are you?” He asked quietly, smoothing her rough, damp hair from her cheek.

  She stared at him, for the first time realizing she must lie. Her cheeks warmed. “I’m fine. You?”

  “I’m great.”

  She couldn’t resent him. She didn’t. It was the truth. But it was also the truth that she wished he had another answer. Since this morning was going to be a day of confusion and ambivalence, she didn’t know what she wanted him to say.

  “You must be starving. What do you want for breakfast?” His hand delved in the opening of her robe, his fingers warm on the damp skin of her stomach.

  “I can have anything I want?” She asked, deciding to play along.

  “Sasha.” He was suddenly serious. “Tell me the truth. How are you this morning?”

  She dropped her eyes to his chest for a second as she touched the golden curls peeking from the neckline of his shirt. “My period’s come.”

  “Oh.” Eric blinked. “So.”

  He cleared his throat, and she stared at him.

  “That’s great. It means we don’t have to see a doctor. That’s good. Really good.” He seemed to speak to himself. “So, uh. Is there anything I can get you?”

  “Eggs.”

  “Eggs?”

  “Yeah. An omelet. An extra muddy one.”

  He smiled, and she felt her heart swell. I really love him. She ju
st wished it didn’t make her miserable and desperate. That she didn’t want him so much.

  “Peppers, onions, tomatoes?” He was offering to get her food but pulling her close to his body again. She blushed as he pushed part of her robe away to caress her freckled shoulder.

  “Yeah..”

  She breathed his name as he kissed her bared shoulder. When he started to move away, she held him fast. “Sasha?”

  “Stay. Just for a while?” She asked, hoping she didn’t sound so needy. “It’s still early.”

  “Of course.” He lay back down.

  If Eric thought she wanted to cuddle, she proved him wrong. Sasha threw her leg over his hips and kissed him deeply on the mouth, enjoying his grunt of surprise. His fingers pushed through her hair. She nibbled at his lips, as he would do to her, raked her teeth across the wetter, more sensitive inside of his lower lip before biting it playfully.

  She kissed down his throat, loving the scrape of his morning stubble on her forehead as she pulled at the collar of his shirt to attack his collarbones. He breathed sharply. She nuzzled her nose down his chest, pushing his shirt up until she could flick her tongue on his golden nipples. Her fingers fluttered down his ribs, followed by her lips. She kissed his abs, encouraged by the tensing of his muscles, his groans.

  She rose a little on her knees to pull his boxers down. Through her hair falling over her eyes, she gazed at Eric. His half-closed eyes watched her. He swallowed hard, quickly, repeatedly. “Do you want me to, Eric?” She whispered, pausing in her actions.

 

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