In a Lifetime

by Ariadne Wayne

  She sucked her lower lip through her teeth. His eyebrows knitted as he looked back. “Ella?”

  “I’ve told them we want to go private. It’ll still take some time to go through everything, but it’ll be so much faster.”

  Sam let her go, standing, pacing back and forward, his head buried in his hands. He stopped, glaring at her, his palms up in surrender.

  “How the hell are we going to pay for it?”

  Ella stood, moving toward him and placing her hands on his. “Mum and Dad will help. They want this, too.”

  “They can’t pay for everything. It’s enough that they got us into this house. I want us to live our own lives.”

  Ella closed her eyes, holding in the tears trying to break free. “I want a baby. We need help. I can’t keep going the way I am. This is getting harder and harder, and it’s doing my head in.”

  Sam’s strong arms wrapped around her neck, and he pulled her in tight against him. “I know it is. This whole thing is killing me, seeing you like this month after month.” He hooked his fingers in her hair, running the auburn strands between them. “I know I’m not the easiest person to live with at times, and I know I’m not always as supportive as I should be. But I love you, Ella, and I want what’s best for both of us.”

  “What do you think that is?”

  “Maybe we need to take a break for a few months. Forget about trying for a baby. Maybe it’ll stop you having so many mood swings.”

  She pulled back, shaking her head to free it from his fingers. “I don’t know if I can switch off like that.”

  Sam smiled. “I’ll make dinner. Forget about everything tonight.”

  “Aren’t you working?”

  He shook his head. “Classes were cancelled this evening. Those grotty classrooms we’re in are being fumigated. I’m all yours for the night.”

  Ella licked her lips. Sam growling in response brought a smile to her face that felt long overdue. “Oh. So you’re choosing me over the cockroaches?”

  “Every time.”

  The Thunderbirds theme playing made that smile bigger. Matt. She snatched up her phone, sitting back on the couch.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, sis.”

  “Since when does my phone play Thunderbirds for you?” Her irritation was tempered with the welcome sound of Vanessa’s voice.

  “Since I screwed with your phone last time I was there.” Vanessa laughed. What her life must be like to not have the stresses Ella had. But at the same time, she was hard at her studies.

  “I’m going to change it again once I hang up. Can’t have you stealing someone else’s ringtone.”

  “I thought it might make you smile.”

  Ella laughed. “It did. What’s up?”

  “Checking in. You by yourself tonight? Or is Douchebag home?”

  “Sam’s home.” Ella caught his eye, winking as his eyebrows dipped in confusion.

  “Good. I’m glad you’re not alone.”

  “Make up your mind.”

  Vanessa laughed. “I don’t care. Whatever makes you happy. I miss you smiling. I’m supposed to be the bitchy one.”

  Ella leaned back in her chair, gazing at the ceiling. “I’m over being like this. I want to hold my baby. Sam’s baby. We only need one.”

  “I know, sis. Chill out and maybe it’ll just happen.”

  “I don’t think it’s that simple.”

  “Maybe not, but if you’re not yourself, is it worth all of it?” Vanessa sighed. “Have you heard from Matt?”

  “You ask me that every time, and you stand as much chance of talking to him as I do. Sam had a call the other night. He was in Amsterdam and travelling back toward England.”

  Sam sat, and pulled her sideways, resting his chin on the top of her head.

  “I’ve got to get going. Sam’s going to cook dinner.”

  “Oh. Lucky you. Give Douchebag a punch in the face for me.”

  Ella raised her face, pursing her lips for Sam to kiss. He grazed his lips against hers, leaving her smiling as he stood. “Don’t be so mean,” she murmured down the phone.

  “Catch up with you later. Maybe I’ll go stalking Matt on Facebook.”

  Ella laughed. “You do that. Talk to you soon. Love you.”

  “Yuck. Byeee.”

  Ella closed her eyes, putting the phone on the table. The nagging throb in her head wouldn’t leave her alone and she rubbed her temples, leaning forward.

  Sam’s thumbs pressed into the back of her neck as he rubbed her shoulders. “Feeling sick?”

  “Just a headache. I think I’ll have something quick to eat and climb into bed.”

  Sam yawned, and Ella couldn’t help but follow suit.

  “Sounds like we’re both tired,” she said.

  “I’m glad for even a small break. The school is so busy—they want to do another two evening classes.”

  Ella groaned. That was good and bad. The money was good, but the evenings alone weren’t helping the situation.

  “I’ll chuck some canned spaghetti in a pan and cook that up for dinner,” Sam said.

  “At least I’ve managed to progress you past coffee and toast.”

  He grabbed her by the hand, pulling her to her feet. Reluctantly, she rose, turning to face him.

  “Only just. I mean, I wasn’t that good at coffee and toast to start with.” He pecked her on the lips. “Was that Ness on the phone?”

  Ella nodded, trailing behind him to the kitchen. She stood at the end of the kitchen bench, watching as he took a tin of canned spaghetti and opened it, tipping the whole thing in a pot.

  “What did she want?”

  She shrugged. “The usual. Wants to check on me. Wants to know if I’ve heard from Matt.”

  Sam shook his head. “You know, if she was a bit older, she’d probably know exactly where Matt was. She’d be literally following him around Europe.”

  Ella laughed. “I think you’re right. She’s right, though. Apart from that short phone call, we have no idea what he’s been doing.”

  Sam placed the pot on the stovetop, flicking on the element.

  “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll be having copious amounts of sex with hot European girls.”

  Ella looked away.

  “Ella?”

  “Do you ever wish you’d gone with him?”

  Sam frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “He’s probably with all those girls, and you’re here with me. Being miserable.”

  He covered the distance between them, kissing her so hard she squealed with laughter. His lips were so warm and comforting as always, his hands tight around her waist.

  “I would rather be here with you than anywhere else on the planet. No matter who I could be with.”

  Ella ran her fingers up his arm to his shoulder. “Even Optimus Prime?”

  He raised his face to the sky. “Even him.” Sam dropped his gaze. “Want toast with your spaghetti?”

  “Sounds amazing. As long as you don’t burn it.”

  Sam looked at her in mock horror. “Such an insult.”

  She grinned. “I might put up with a bit of charcoal because I love you.”

  He laughed, turning back toward the cooktop. “As long as you love me, all is right with the world.”

  SAM MANAGED NOT to burn the toast or the spaghetti. Ella lay on the couch as he brought the plates into the living room, placing them on the coffee table.

  “Dinner.”

  She smiled. “You did well.”

  Sitting, she picked up her plate, leaning back. Sam sat beside her, sitting so close his thigh touched hers.

  “All this space, and you nearly sit on top of me.”

  “I want some close time with my girl. I don’t see enough of you right now.”

  Ella plucked the fork from her plate, twirling the spaghetti around on it. “Things aren’t what they should be right now.”

  Sam nudged her knee with his. “We’ll get there. Nothing’s
ever perfect. Do you know what I’m going to do after I finish this amazing meal I cooked?”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to sleep. It’s the other thing I don’t get enough of.”

  Ella laughed. “Poor, tired baby.” She leaned on his shoulder. “Why don’t we go away for the weekend?”

  “Where?”

  “To see Mum and Dad. I miss them.” She chewed on her lips. “Maybe we can talk to them about helping us with IVF?” She didn’t miss his eye roll, the way he turned his head not to look at her.

  “Uh, maybe.”

  She licked her lips, staring past the television to the curtains. This house was suffocating at times, reminding her of the early days, when they’d moved in and she’d put her stamp on it. All the decorations were so much hers, and so very little Sam’s. It was something she’d never noticed before. Ella had sewn her own curtains, made her own cushions, and decorated everything the way she wanted.

  Turning her attention back to the plate, she cut the corner off her toast with a generous helping of spaghetti. It went down easily, and she moaned, smiling at Sam as she swallowed.

  “That good, huh?”

  “Not bad for someone who can’t cook.”

  He grinned, rolling his eyes as he scooped in a mouthful of food. Nodding, he waggled his eyebrows as he chewed.

  This was nice, a small quiet moment with her husband. Something they didn’t get enough of.

  As they finished, she stood, holding her hand out for his plate, and Sam put his feet up on the couch, lying down and closing his eyes. For a moment, Ella watched him, envying the ease with which he fell asleep. Within moments, he snored softly, and she shook her head, smiling at him.

  Ella walked into the kitchen, filling the sink with hot water and rinsing off the dishes. It hadn’t been much, but it had to be the best evening they’d had together in a while. The most peaceful at least.

  She returned to the living room, sitting on a recliner next to the couch and putting her feet up. Sam might have fallen asleep, but he was there with her and not working.

  Closing her eyes, she jumped at a tap on the door.

  “Who on earth could that be?” she grumbled.

  “Probably some door-to-door salesperson.” Sam yawned, rolling over.

  Ella rolled her eyes. Trust him to leave her to sort it out.

  She got up, going to the door and pulling the handle. A tall, young, blonde woman stood on the other side.

  “Is Sam here?”

  Ella turned her head. Sam’s eyes were still closed.

  “Babe, it’s for you?”

  “Who is it?” He opened his eyes, squinting at her.

  She shrugged, nodding toward the door.

  Sam sighed, dropping his feet to the floor and standing, walking toward her, his eyes already glazed over with sleep. They widened as he approached and saw the young woman.

  “Petra? What are you doing here?”

  She smiled. “I wanted to return this.” In her hand was a battered old textbook. Ella had seen that kicking around when they’d moved house. How did this girl know where they lived?

  “Thanks. You could have done that in class. There was no hurry.” He took the book as she handed it to him. “Ell, this is one of my adult students, Petra. Petra, my wife, Ella.”

  Petra smiled sweetly. “Nice to meet you. I won’t be in class for a couple of weeks. Family stuff. I wanted to make sure I got it back to you.”

  Sam looped his arm around Ella’s waist. “Well, thanks. I don’t think you should be coming by my house though. It’s not really appropriate.”

  The young woman swallowed hard, her expression hardening. “I’m sorry. I thought I was doing something helpful,” she snapped.

  “It’s fine. Thank you.”

  She nodded. “Thanks. See you when I get back to class.”

  “Sure.”

  Ella watched as Petra walked back down the path leading to the street. She smiled as the young woman turned at the gate, looking back at the house. “That was weird.”

  “She’s weird. I’ll have a chat to the school. There is no way I want any students showing up uninvited.”

  Ella nuzzled his cheek. “Was it even urgent?”

  “No. She was struggling with some of the more basic concepts I was teaching. The book is so ancient, it’s only just useful. Thought it might help.” He shrugged, kissing Ella softly on the lips. “I’m going back to sleep on the couch.”

  She laughed, wrapping her arms around him as she pushed the door shut. “I won’t make any noise, my beautiful, hard-working husband.”

  Sam grinned, kissing her again, his hands slipping down her back. “You’re worth all the work, Ella Mason.”

  He threw the book on the coffee table, letting her go and flopping back on the couch. “We could always snuggle together.”

  “I think we’ll need a bigger couch for that.”

  Sam’s right eyebrow crept up. “I bet we can both fit. Easy.” He crooked his index finger, beckoning her with that look she knew so well. “Come here, wife.”

  If only life were always this good.

  SAM’S next night off was due at the end of the week. After their earlier evening together, he’d promised more of the same. There had been far too many letdowns for Ella lately.

  That one evening had sparked something in her. It was time to reclaim her life, what she had before all of the attempted baby-making happened. Tonight, she’d rebel and do something different.

  And there was nothing like a bit of Rage Against the Machine when you need to rebel.

  Screw the diet.

  Ella pressed the volume up a couple of notches, pressing her earbuds in tighter as her iPod pumped out the music. She needed real food tonight, and real music as she danced around the kitchen. She paused, breathing in the aroma of that wonderful meaty, cheesy lasagne she’d been working on for the last hour. Not long to go now.

  She pulled open the oven door, impatient now. Her stomach grumbled.

  “Ella.”

  Sam stood in the doorway, his face crossed with frustration. Smiling as she pulled out her earbuds, she pushed the oven door shut.

  “Babe. Dinner’s nearly ready.”

  “I’ve been standing here for about five minutes calling your name.”

  She grinned. “Whoops. I’m sorry, I had the music a little too loud.”

  Sam sighed, walking toward her. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Lasagne. I haven’t made it in forever, and I thought we could be a little naughty.”

  “Are you allowed that on your diet?”

  The words and the snarky tone they were delivered in deflated Ella. Her shoulders slumped as she looked at her husband. “I wanted lasagne.”

  “Yeah, but we’re supposed to be in good health and physically fit for our best chances to conceive. That’s not going to happen if you keep cooking shit like this.”

  Ella’s cheeks blazed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. She’d been living on salad and protein for weeks, and being called out by Sam for one carb- and fat-rich meal hurt her to her core. Especially when she’d spotted burger wrappers in the bin. He’d tucked them under other rubbish, but he’d not hidden them well.

  “It’s one night. I’ve been good for weeks. And I don’t think I have to justify myself to you. I wanted us to have a nice dinner together, but apparently two in one week is too hard.” She breathed hard, her anger growing by the second as she glared at her husband.

  “Well, whatever. I’ve got a class to teach tonight; I came home to change.”

  Ella’s hands tingled in irritation. “But you promised we’d have dinner together.”

  “And I got the chance to earn a bit more this week. I can’t win. I’m doing this for us. So we have savings when we have our baby, and to help pay to have a baby.”

  “But you promised,” she whispered.

  He smiled. “I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

  Kissing her on the cheek, he
disappeared up the hallway toward the bedroom to get changed.

  “After all these evenings alone, this was making it up to me.”

  She slammed the spoon in her fingers on the bench, flicking up the hot sauce on it onto her hand. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she twisted the cold tap, running the water over the reddening skin. The last few weeks had been the worst. Everything seemed too hard.

  “Ella? You okay?” Sam appeared in the doorway, watching her standing there with her hand under the tap.

  “I’ll be fine. I burned my hand.”

  He strode toward her, and put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “Want me to get anything?”

  “A new life?” She turned her head toward him, seeing the concern in his eyes.

  “I know this is hard.” He leaned his head on hers.

  “I’m so over everything.”

  “Not over me, I hope.”

  She turned to him, flinging her arms around his neck. “Never. I know I can be up and down, but you’re the one thing I know I can count on.”

  “Always.” He planted a kiss in her hair, pulling her hands to his chest. “How’s your hand?”

  “It’s okay. It was only a few spots of hot sauce.”

  “Want me to kiss it better?”

  Ella smiled as he covered her hands in kisses.

  “Did you talk to the school about that student?”

  He placed his hands on her arms, smiling warmly. “I did. She’s no longer in my class. Sounds like I’m not the first person she’s done that to. Serves me right for trying to help.”

  “You’re a good man, Sam Mason. We really didn’t need a stalker to deal with on top of everything else.”

  Sam raised a hand, pushing her hair back behind her ear. “Anything that causes you stress, I’ll do my best to sort out. You have so much to deal with already; the last thing I want is for you to worry.” He kissed her tenderly. “I’ve got to get going. I’ll try to be home early.”

  She nodded.

  “Save some of that lasagne for me. It smells amazing.” Sam squeezed her arms before letting go. “Love you.”

  And you think I have mood swings.

  THE LASAGNE WAS everything Ella had dreamed about—rich, cheesy, and it left her more satisfied than she’d been by any meal she’d had in a long time.