Two-Week Wife

by Miranda Lee

  ‘Before I forget,’ he said at last, taking his hand away. ‘There’s an end-of-year party of the faculty at the university on Friday night, so I’ll be home late.’

  Bianca opened her eyes and turned her head back with a sigh. “That’s all right,’ she said, still not really looking at him. ‘I’ll have a drink with the people from work. They all go down to the pub after work on a Friday. Or I’ll go to the gym if I’m feeling better by then. No doubt this is only a twenty-fourhour tummy bug.’

  And it was. She felt much better the next day, she said, though she was still a little preoccupied, walking out of the door without kissing him goodbye as she had on the previous three mornings.

  Adam vowed to ask her what was bothering her that evening, but no sooner was dinner over than an old girlfriend rang out of the blue—God knew where she’d got the number!—and Bianca talked and talked to her for simply hours.

  Her name was Roberta, and she was one of the girls Bianca had gone backpacking around the world with—the sort of outrageously flip female one would never imagine settling down. But apparently she’d fallen in love with her dentist—poor bloke—and was getting married. From Bianca’s side of the conversation, Adam gathered the stupid girl was pregnant as well, which was good for another hour’s chit-chat about babies and such.

  Adam went to bed on his own in the end, feeling quite resentful that Bianca preferred talking to a girlfriend than being with him. He was also beginning to feel vaguely unsettled by the atmosphere in general.

  Was the rot already setting in?

  He was coming to think so, lying there still wide awake when Bianca finally came to bed, though he pretended to be asleep. So he was pleasantly surprised when she snuggled in behind him, her hands wrapping lovingly around his body, her fingers caressing his chest and stomach.

  When he groaned and rolled over and reached for her, he was taken aback when she said no, she didn’t want to make love, she just wanted to touch him and hold him. Was that all right by him?

  He said of course it was, but, while he enjoyed the feel of her hands touching and holding him, there was something strangely platonic in the whole scenario. It was as though she was telling him something with her hands—something he didn’t want to hear. I love you, they seemed to be saying. But not the same way as I was loving you a week ago. That old spark has gone out. The sexual chemistry has died.

  Adam lay there long after Bianca drifted off to sleep, lay there with his body aching and his heart breaking.

  He could not bring himself to talk to her in the morning as they went about their breakfasts. She didn’t seem to notice, her mind off in the clouds again. Or was it something far more down-to-earth which was occupying her mind? he began to think with savage jealousy. Had she met someone else? Was she trying to find some way to tell stupid old Adam to get lost?

  ‘You’re very quiet,’ he said at last through gritted teeth.

  Bianca looked up from her plate of muesli, something like guilt in her eyes. ‘Am I? Sorry. I was thinking...’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Oh...this and that.’

  ‘Care to enlighten me on what “this and that” means?’ he quizzed, trying not to sound suspicious and accusing.

  She opened her mouth, then shut it again. ‘It’s nothing to worry you about,’ she muttered. ‘Yet.’

  ‘That sounds very mysterious. When can I hope to know this dark little secret of yours?’

  She actually blushed, and Adam’s stomach tightened. Bianca blushing was as alien a concept as her staying in love.

  ‘What makes you think I have a dark little secret?’ she said.

  ‘I know you very well, Bianca,’ he returned ruefully. ‘I can read you like a book sometimes.’

  ‘No one knows anybody else all that well, Adam,’ she mused cryptically. ‘If we did we wouldn’t flounder around, not knowing what to do and what to say sometimes.’

  Now what did she mean by that? Was she afraid of his reaction if she broke up with him? Was she worried he wouldn’t go as easily as dear old Derek?

  Well, she was right there. He bloody well wouldn’t! If the worst came to the worst he would revert to Adam Marsden, bastard of the month. No way was he letting Bianca slip out of his hands now. Hell, he’d get her pregnant if he had to. Though God knows how he’d manage that, with her taking the pill.

  Thinking of the pill reminded him that Bianca hadn’t had a period for a while, and a thought suddenly clicked. She could be suffering from PMT. She’d complained and complained about the effect the pill had on her, especially in the week leading up to her period. Her breasts would be sore, she’d have a bloated stomach and a yukky feeling.

  Yes, of course—that was it! Why hadn’t he thought of it before? Bianca had always been touchy about her body and her periods.

  His relief was huge as he reached over to place a soothing hand on top of hers. ‘If you’re worried about the intimate side of our relationship once you get your period, then don’t be. I know I was demanding at the beginning of this new relationship of ours, but I do realise things can’t always be like that.’

  She blinked at him. ‘What? Oh, yes. Good. Thank you. That...that’s a relief off my mind.’ She stood up and moved swiftly over to the kitchen counter. ‘Can I get you another cup of coffee?’

  ‘No, I’d better get going. Don’t forget I’ll be late tonight,’ he reminded her. ‘It’s sure to be at least ten before I can get away, which means it will be closer to eleven by the time I get home.’

  ‘No sweat.’ She didn’t look up, her concentration on pouring boiling water into her mug.

  He came over and gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘Wait up for me, will you?’

  She slanted him a quick smile, but he could feel the tension in her. ‘Yes, of course.’

  Adam could have bitten his tongue for seemingly putting sexual pressure on her when it was obvious she was not feeling the best. Yet, despite his guilt, an oddly desperate feeling suddenly swept over him, and as soon as she put the kettle down he pulled her into his arms, kissing her hungrily for a few seconds.

  ‘How’s that for a goodbye kiss?’ he said stupidly and, whirling, strode out of the unit before he made even more of a fool of himself.

  Bianca stayed on his mind all morning—and all afternoon. By the time the faculty party started that evening, he was a dead loss where being social and charming were concerned. He was worried about the woman he loved. There was something wrong. He just felt it.

  ‘Sorry,’ he told his chums over his first drink. ‘But I simply can’t stay. Family emergency.’

  He dropped into the pub at Crows Nest on the way home, but Bianca hadn’t joined her colleagues there that night, he was told. She wasn’t at home either, so it seemed likely she was down at the gym.

  The gym was Bianca’s therapist. Wherever she was troubled or upset, she would work out. She’d once told him exercise was good for PMT, so it was likely she was down there, pumping iron or doing her third step class. That girl sometimes didn’t know when to stop.

  He decided to go down and stop her.

  The gym was within walking distance of their block of units—Bianca always jogged down and back—but Adam was in a hurry so he drove down. He slid his BMW into the kerb opposite, switched off the engine and was about to climb out when Bianca came through the swinging front doors, dressed in purple lycra bike shorts and a matching midriff top.

  Adam might have called out to her if she’d been alone.

  But she wasn’t.

  Dear old Derek was with her, dressed in shiny blue boxer shorts and a black singlet top designed to show off his huge chest. He also had one of his huge arms solidly around her shoulder, and she was leaning into him as though for all the world she wanted them to become one right there on the pavement.

  Adam wanted to kill them both, so he counted to ten—after which he still wanted to kill them both.

  Don’t jump to conclusions, he kept telling himself as he watched
Derek fold Bianca into the low passenger seat of a sports car which matched its owner’s shorts for colour and shininess, watched with a pounding heart and seething soul as they drove off together.

  Adam might have scorched after them in the BMW if he’d been pointing the right way. As it was, the shiny blue Mazda accelerated away before he could say ‘kill’ and was gone. He sat there for simply ages, trying to get his black fury under control. Or was it black despair?

  No, not despair. Despair didn’t feel like this. Despair wanted to run and hide and cry, whereas Adam wanted to seize and strangle and scream!

  She would have to come home eventually, he decided at last, with a cold calm that was as frightening as it was chillingly satisfying.

  And when she did...

  He drove home with seeming composure, only to have it shattered by the sight of Derek’s car parked outside their block of units. She’d brought him here? A glance upwards at the unit showed that the lights were on in the front living room and master bedroom. As he watched the light in the bedroom clicked out.

  Adam’s pain knew no bounds. He could not believe she could be this wicked. Or this cruel! It was bad enough she’d taken up with Derek again, but to do so in his flat, and in their bed!

  The only reason he didn’t go upstairs then and there was because he knew he would not be responsible for what he did. She wasn’t worth going to jail for life over.

  What to do? How to handle it?

  He stayed in his car and waited till Derek left at around ten-thirty. Then he waited till well after midnight, making sure Bianca would be asleep when he went in.

  Icy tentacles wound round his heart as he stared down at her, curled up with seeming innocence in the middle of the bed. How could she just go off to sleep after what she’d done? Still, sex did exhaust one, he thought bitterly.

  He hated having to climb into that bed with her, knowing what he knew, but it had to be done. Vengeance had to wait till morning. Besides, he wasn’t ever going to let her suspect he’d witnessed her treachery. His male ego could not take that kind of punishment.

  Lying there beside her, unable to sleep, he wondered how long she’d been planning to juggle both of them.

  It wasn’t like Bianca to be this treacherous, Adam agonised. To give her credit, she usually only had one lover at a time. And she was usually tremendously loyal while she was with her one and only. This type of deceit and double-dealiag was something entirely new to her character.

  Her mood over the past couple of days suddenly explained itself. She was feeling guilty. Very, very guilty.

  But guilt hadn’t stopped her from having her fun tonight, had it? Obviously she hadn’t been as happy with the tender loving sex he’d been giving her this week as he’d thought she’d been.

  ‘Adam?’ she said dreamily from her half-sleep. ‘Is that you?’

  ‘Who else?’ he bit out.

  She yawned and rolled over. ‘Did you have a nice party?’

  Not as nice as yours, he thought savagely.

  Shock crashed through him when she began to stroke his thigh. He stiffened in more ways than one.

  ‘Too tired?’ she asked when his hand abruptly closed over hers, only inches from the evidence of his unwanted and involuntary arousal.

  ‘Let’s just say I’m not in the mood.’

  ‘Oh,...’

  Adam’s resentment over her reaction to his rejection was acute. How dared she sound hurt? And how dare he still be tempted?

  ‘Too much whisky,’ he muttered, and rolled his back to her.

  ‘You shouldn’t drink and drive, you know, Adam,’ she said, now actually sounding worried about him. Was there no limit to her perfidy?

  ‘Yeah, well, there are a lot of things people shouldn’t do, Bianca,’ he growled, giving some vent to his simmering outrage. ‘But that doesn’t stop them. It’s not a nice world. Now let me go to sleep, for pity’s sake. I don’t know about you but I’m wrecked.’

  More than wrecked. Totally destroyed. But she would never know that. Come morning, she would be out on her ear, never knowing what she’d done wrong!

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  BIANCA woke the next morning with butterflies in her stomach and trepidation in her heart. Who would have believed her being pregnant by Adam would cause her so much concern? It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy about it. She was. She was ecstatic. It was Adam’s possible reaction which worried her.

  A few days ago she would have been positive Adam would be just as thrilled. Now...she wasn’t so sure.

  What was it Roberta had said the other night? How once you really fell in love you couldn’t wait to get married, settle down and have a baby with the person you loved? While such sentiments coincided exactly with what she’d been feeling lately, Bianca wasn’t at all sure Adam felt the same way. He hadn’t once mentioned marriage, despite his agreeing to buy a house so she could bring Lucky to live with them.

  Then last night...

  Bianca threw a worried glance over at Adam’s still sleeping form and bit her bottom lip. Adam had been very late home. He’d said he’d been drinking whisky but he hadn’t smelt of alcohol at all. He’d been lying to her. And then he hadn’t wanted to make love.

  Had he been with someone else? Had Sophie loomed on the horizon again, with her big boobs and highly accommodating nature?

  Bianca heaved in a deep breath then let it out again with a shuddering sigh. Immediately Adam rolled over, settling oddly cold grey eyes upon her.

  ‘Oh,’ Bianca said. ‘I...I thought you were still asleep. I was just about to get up and make coffee, but I have to go to the toilet first.’ She scrambled out of bed, dragging on her kimono before dashing for the bathroom. ,

  When she returned, Adam was still looking at her in that peculiarly cold fashion. ‘Is there something wrong?’ she asked as she sashed the kimono tightly around her waist.

  ‘That depends.’ He stretched, then linked his arms up under his head.

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On how you’re going to handle what I have to say.’

  A nameless fear gripped Bianca’s insides. She tried to keep her cool but it was hard. ‘Then perhaps you’d better just say it. Whatever it is you have to say...’

  ‘Very well. This isn’t going to work out, Bianca.’

  Bianca swallowed. ‘What isn’t going to work out?’

  ‘You. Me. Us.’

  Spots began to swim around Bianca’s eyes. ‘Why not?’ she choked out.

  He sat up abruptly, throwing back the quilt and swinging his feet over the side of the bed. His face, she noted, was uncompromisingly hard. He shrugged on his red dressing gown then stood up, looming over her.

  ‘Too much water’s gone under the bridge with us, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘I loved you for a long time, Bianca. I thought I still did. But I see now I don’t. It was a hangover from the past.

  ‘I wanted you for such a long time and...well, now I’ve had you—and while it was very satisfying in one way it wasn’t quite as good as I’d anticipated. To be brutally honest, Bianca, my fires for you have burnt out at long last. There’s no spark left in me. No...chemistry. I’m sorry. There’s no use my pretending. I think, under the circumstances, you should find somewhere else to live.’

  Bianca blinked her utter bewilderment while the blood began to drain from her face. Nausea swirled in her stomach. ‘But...but you said you loved me. You said you would always love me.’

  His shrug was flippant in the extreme. ‘Looks like I made a mistake. Sorry.’

  Bianca thought of the kiss he’d given her yesterday morning, that awful parody of passion which had been a real goodbye kiss in a way she’d never dreamt he meant at the time.

  ‘No...no, I’m the one who’s sorry,’ she said weakly, despair hot on the heels of dismay. She had never known such heartache. ‘I’m sorry I ever met you...’

  ‘Come on, Bianca, don’t dramatise. It’s just your pride that’s hurt. You’ll bounce back, right onto the nex
t fellow. It’s not as though you crave permanence, my love. Or commitment. Life is just a ball to you, remember? It’s for having fun. Well, we had fun, didn’t we? Don’t be such a little hypocrite.’

  Something rang in her whirling head—some bell which warned her that this wasn’t her Adam talking.

  All those moments they’d shared this past week—those warm, incredibly tender moments—flooded back into her brain, telling her that that was the real Adam, not this heartless stranger who was telling her oh, so casually that everything she’d ever meant to him was dead and that it shouldn’t bother her one bit.

  But when she looked into his face, searching for a hint of guilt or conscience, she saw nothing but a mask of stony indifference.

  Bile rose in her throat and her hand fluttered up to try to stop it from going further. But in vain. ‘I...I’m going to be sick,’ she choked out, and, whirling, dashed for the bathroom.

  She made it to the toilet bowl just in time, though there was nothing substantial to heave into it.

  Afterwards she slumped against the cold tiled floor, her head resting limply against the toilet-roll holder on the wall. She felt drained, yet not nearly as despairing as she’d been a minute ago. For during her flight to the bathroom Bianca had caught a glimpse of them both reflected in the vanity mirror.

  She had looked distressed, but Adam had looked devastated, his shoulders sagging, his face twisted with self-disgust.

  But it was his eyes...oh, his eyes...

  They’d clung to her back as she’d fled, clung with such pained regret and yearning, as though he wished he could cut out his tongue.

  Which meant what? Bianca puzzled anew. He was being cruel to be kind? Or could it be that he didn’t believe she really loved him and was getting out before he got in too deep?

  That was more like her Adam, she conceded sadly, and her heart turned over with love and understanding for the man. She’d put him through so much over the years. Too much, perhaps. She could well appreciate his lack of faith in her.

  But that didn’t mean she was about to let him go—certainly not into the arms of a female vulture like that Sophie creature. He was the father of her baby, and he was going to marry her if it was the last thing he did!