Possessed By You (The Consumed Series Book 3)

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Possessed By You (The Consumed Series Book 3) Page 18

by Alicia Marino


  Every part of me is here.

  We’re getting there without a single utterance. No dirty talk, no urging. We’re hardly moaning now, lacking enough breath to do so. The end is within reach, but he slows us down, forcing us to wait together.

  It’s so close my fingers are contracting violently over him, my stomach tightening from the build up. I let it go, smiling against him.

  My husband wants to make it last. I cherish that gift.

  ***

  A plus sign.

  Such a small, insignificant symbol…for anyone but an expectant woman.

  Kevin is waiting outside of the door of the drugstore, mostly impatient. “That thing’s gotta have worked by now, right?”

  The pregnancy stick is on the sink, and both of my hands are clasping onto the sides for dear life. When I noticed I was a week late, I decided I’d wait one more before running out to purchase a test. Somehow, I convinced myself it was too soon to know. I convinced myself I was jumping to conclusions, only hurting myself in the process. We’ve had months and months of negatives, and yet, here it is.

  That little pink plus sign.

  “Darcy, what does it say?”

  “I’m pregnant,” I whisper, although there is no possible way he can hear it.

  “What?”

  Thick tears are dropping from my eyes into the sink. I’m struggling for breath as joy takes me into its arms. I snatch up the stick and whirl around, unlocking the door. He does the rest of the work, throwing it open.

  I hold it up, my mouth hung open, my cheeks wet. “I’m pregnant.”

  He stares at the stick in my hand, and then his features become more like mine. “No fucking way.”

  “I’m pregnant,” I repeat, my voice on the edge of madness, complete deliriousness.

  “Holy shit!”

  Kevin wraps his arms around me in a chokehold, lifting me off the floor with a shriek. He sets me down abruptly, completely unaware of the looks we’re getting from shoppers.

  “It can’t be real,” I gasp.

  He shakes me, grinning. “I’m getting another one. Maybe two. We’ll make sure before you tell him, all right?” He kisses my cheek exuberantly and rushes into an aisle to snatch up two more pregnancy boxes.

  Before you tell him…

  ***

  “Hi, Tiffany.” Benjamin’s assistant has already been informed of my arrival and is waiting outside of her office.

  “Darcy, hello. He’s about to get out of a meeting any minute.”

  “No rush.” I wonder if she can see how badly my hands are shaking.

  My heart is on the outside of my body. I’m wearing it like a damn brooch.

  “Can I get you tea? Coffee? Anything?”

  “No, I’m okay.”

  “You sure? It’s real cold out there.” She nods decisively. “I’ll get you a tea.”

  Knowing she won’t take no for an answer, I take a seat in the chic waiting area. She reappears with a steaming mug and, after a few more polite words, disappears back in her office where no doubt a pile of paperwork rests.

  I sip the tea, my stomach flopping and turning with nervousness. How will he take it?

  Will he be excited? Will he not react? Will he hide his true reaction?

  I’m pregnant. I have a baby growing inside of me.

  The chaos is just around the corner, I can feel it. The worry. The excitement. The anticipation.

  The door to Benjamin’s office opens, a hand flat against the glass to keep it ajar. The shiny watch on Benjamin’s wrist tells me it’s him as men pour out of the room, laughing. They know who I am by now, and although I can’t recall any of their names, they greet me warmly as they pass to make a good impression on the boss’s wife.

  “Darce?”

  I glance at Benjamin standing in the doorway of his office, a curious look on his face.

  “Did I miss an appointment? Dinner?”

  I shake my head, picking up the mug from the coffee table and walk past him into his spacious office.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  His desk phone rings, and he reaches across, slamming it down to end the blasted blaring.

  “I’m…better than okay.” I lift my chin.

  Bent over his desk, he glances at me, piecing together my sudden appearance. In so many ways, this mirrors the first time I came here to divulge the same news to him.

  Except this time, he reacts.

  “You’re…?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  I see so much in such a short amount of time. Disbelief. Awe. Confusion. Realization. Excitement. And then…blistering happiness.

  He rushes over to me, capturing me in an embrace. “You’re pregnant,” he breathes, wanting the confirmation.

  I can’t keep the smile from my face. The tears are back with a vengeance, rolling down my cheeks. “I’m pregnant. I-I checked three times. I’m—”

  His lips slam into mine, and he lifts me up, stopping me from saying more. I wrap my long legs around his waist.

  I’m on clouds. I’m in the stratosphere.

  He’s happy.

  He’s actually happy.

  Benjamin sets me down onto his desk, pulling back with a breathless gasp. I stare at him, full of every possible emotion as he sweeps his thumbs over my cheeks, looking lost for words himself.

  I laugh softly, taking his hands, which show how overcome he is.

  “They’re shaking,” he whispers, his face flushing with embarrassment.

  “Mine haven’t stopped either.”

  He brings my hands to his lips, kissing my knuckles tenderly. I watch him closely, not wishing to miss a single moment of this. It wasn’t even a year ago this same news was met with panic and resistance…disdain even.

  I underestimate his ability to adapt more than I should. From the beginning, he’s proven time and time again that he’s capable of change, of growth.

  There’s no telling what is in store. The trials and tribulations we’ll have to endure.

  But now more than ever it’s clear we’re doing this together.

  He pulls me close, letting me surrender to his warmth, and I mold to him naturally, tucking my face under his chin, seeking only his understanding, his strength to encourage my own.

  “I think we’re ready now,” I tell him, reminded of our uncertain days before.

  His heartbeat is a steady drum in my ear. “I think we are.”

  ***

  My gaze is on the New York skyline. At the edge of the balcony, I reflect, as I have always done in this place. It could be the breeze that blows this high in the air that makes the hot summer air less damp. The seasons are moving, and time is unstoppable, passing with our excitement.

  My belly is against the railing, a gigantic force beneath my breasts.

  The first few months were met with excitement, an unnatural, consuming excitement. It wasn’t hard for that to turn into worry at the first sign of trouble. We knew my health would decline. We knew tests would need to be run, precautions taken. We knew better than to tell anyone about the baby until I’d begun to show.

  By the fifth month, when my stomach really popped, we found a common ground between the two emotions. I’m well aware this may be the only time I carry a child, as I have no idea what lies ahead, what birth will do to my body.

  I’ve found the ability to bask in it, without letting fear overrule me. With medications, supplements, and leave from my job which pretty much confines me to the apartment, I make it work.

  I can handle fatigue. I can handle nausea.

  If the outcome is a healthy, happy baby with Benjamin’s eyes, I can do anything.

  My fingers glide over the railing. I can close my eyes and see a different time. A time where I stood right here, so ridden with fear and rage that I left Benjamin. How terrified I was for that trial, for the prison sentence I was nervous I’d receive for defending myself against a sick man. I changed with that sentence and lost myself. And as I changed, so did Benjami
n, who suffered along with me in the dark.

  He knew before I did what we needed in order to restart…to bind to each other forever.

  My recollections have disturbed my mind and, therefore, the little one inside of me. I press my hand to my belly, rubbing the soft cotton of my dress. I’m not sure if it’s the infamous “nesting phase” that brings on these torrents of emotions, but they’re hard to get a handle on.

  I wipe my cheeks, refusing to go there tonight. Benjamin comes back from his trip today. For the first time since we married, he had to travel overseas, which I had no clearance from the doctor to do. Four days are a lifetime when you have nothing to do but sit and stare at a wall, watching time tick by. It was comforting how hard he tried to put off going to Taiwan, but in the end, it couldn’t be helped.

  Nine more weeks and there will be another here with us, a sweet baby to keep me company.

  “Wife.”

  I smile at the sound of his voice, pursing my lips to the sunset.

  “Husband.”

  He’s just outside the sliding door. He’s shed his suit jacket, and his luggage, but still stuns in a three-piece vested suit. He crosses the small amount of space it takes to reach me and takes my mouth without delay, catching the back of my head with his palm to limit his force.

  His eyes are warm when he pulls back, like my mouth has drugged him. They sweep over my body eagerly, and I admire the way his lips curve appreciatively.

  “Everything good?”

  “Yes, everything’s been fine here. Your trip?”

  “In and out, easy. Wish I could have come back sooner.”

  “Back to uneventfulness?” I chuckle. “You were traveling in Taiwan amongst beautiful things…beautiful people. Fun people who can do things. I mean—”

  “You’re becoming green,” he says in amusement. I roll my eyes, turning on my heel. He catches me from behind and pulls me to him, placing his chin on my shoulder, his lips on my neck. “My people are right here.”

  He cradles my belly, sending an instant jolt to my heart.

  “Besides, you being uneventful has its advantages,” he continues, his voice warming with playfulness. “You have nowhere to be.”

  Another great perk of the nesting stage: constant insatiability.

  I shiver at the mere implications.

  “And you don’t either?”

  “Nope.”

  I grin. “What advantages?”

  “Come inside and I’ll show you.”

  ***

  “It’s the wrong blue.”

  Sitting on the plastic-covered rocking chair, I show Benjamin the blue on the paint barrel, which prompts him to check over his own paint mark. He makes a face, shoving the roller to the wall.

  “It’s navy blue.”

  Kevin enters the room with a tray carrying beer for them and lemonade for me. My dear friend clucks his tongue in distaste at the uncomfortably dark blue on the wall of the nursery. This was once Benjamin’s piano room, the instrument which now resides in the living room.

  “That color is too dark for a baby room.”

  “It’s depressing,” I add.

  Benjamin rolls his eyes, taking the beer from Kevin. “It’s the color from the catalog.”

  “It so isn’t,” Kevin argues, bending to retrieve the evidence. “See? They must have sent the wrong one.”

  I stand up, which has recently become increasingly difficult, and Benjamin looks pointedly at Kevin, who is supposed to be forcing me to rest while he works.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I hum cheekily. “I didn’t put on these overalls for nothing.”

  Benjamin frowns. “Kevin, you are utterly useless.”

  “What? She’s your wife,” Kevin counters, taking a long drag from his beer.

  “John and Jasmine are coming later to help, and they will think I’m running you into the ground if they find you up like this,” Benjamin says, refusing to give me his roller.

  Laughing, I reach for it then have an evil idea.

  I grimace and drop my hand, clasping my belly, and Benjamin stills.

  “Baby?”

  I reach out and snatch the paint roller from his hand while his guard is down and grin when Kevin gasps at my sneaking abilities. Benjamin’s face tightens, and both Kevin and I get a good laugh from my husband’s shock. Finally, I relent, feeling bad.

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  “That was a shitty move,” Benjamin mutters, too relieved to be pissed.

  “I’m not going to keel over painting a damn wall, all right? Watch and learn.”

  I pour the rest of the white paint primer into the tin of the dark blue, using the roller to mix them together. When it’s a pretty light blue, I straighten with a hand on my aching back.

  I’m due in a week, and I’m beginning to feel it.

  “See? Problem solved.”

  “All right, smart ass. Sit down,” Benjamin says, gesturing to the chair.

  “I want to paint.”

  “Tough.”

  I waddle over and stop in front of him, stubbornly meeting his eyes, which are equally stubborn.

  “Oh, my love, you’re going to get nowhere with that scowl.”

  I stretch up onto my toes, turning so my stomach won’t hit him, and clasp the back of his neck, planting my lips onto his.

  “Get a room!” Kevin yells.

  Benjamin submits easily to my mouth, his lips shaping into a smile against mine.

  When he pulls back, I look down where I’ve placed the roller between us.

  “Oh, that’s great. That’s real great,” he says while I continue to mark him with sky blue paint, now getting his arm. “I’m going to have to change now.”

  I move back, observing my handiwork. One look at Kevin and I’m convinced my husband has never looked hotter. The white t-shirt, denim pants spotted with paint look is definitely one he should utilize more often. Kevin blows out a breath of desire and averts his eyes to remain faithful to his fiancé. I don’t have to have such restraint.

  “This is actually quite a look for you.”

  “Oh, you like it, do you?”

  “Mmm.”

  I head for the wall, and he makes a sound. “Darcy.”

  “I’m fine, really. I feel great.”

  The chime of the elevator dings from the corridor.

  “That will be John and Jasmine,” Benjamin says, wiping his hands on his jeans. As soon as he’s gone to retrieve them, Kevin comes to stand by me.

  “Did you see? He went white when you joked with him like that. I can’t wait to see what he’s like when it’s the real thing.”

  ***

  “Darling, I refuse to give you caffeine of any sort, no matter how badly you want it, so I brought you—”

  Doris stops in her tracks at the sight of me. I’m standing in the living room, water dripping down my thighs and onto the puddle on the floor. My Best Friend’s Wedding has just started on TV, but my body has other plans for today.

  Today, we make a baby.

  Before I start hyperventilating, Doris is on the move, dropping the mugs onto the table with enough force that the hot chocolate splashes onto the surface. For an older woman, she moves nimbly, rushing to the phone to alert Dimitri, who has been on stand-by for days, that he needs to get up here. By the time he’s exiting the elevator, Doris has my hospital bag on her shoulder and is walking me over to him.

  I’m moving fast, knowing contractions are on their way.

  “It’s happening,” I tell Dimitri nervously when we board the elevator. He smiles kindly, already knowing what my next words will be.

  “I called Benjamin. He was on his way out of his office before we got off the phone.”

  “Good.”

  “You’re going to have a baby!” Doris cries, wrapping her arms around me. I’m too frightened to hug her back, feeling movement within me, a sharp tightening, growing in intensity. Right when we exit the elevator into the
lobby, I’m hit by the first contraction, which honestly feels stronger than I thought it should.

  I keel over, blowing out a breath, grimacing at the uncomfortable cramping in my stomach. “I don’t like this. Ooh, I don’t like it.”

  “Just breathe through it. Breathe and it will pass.”

  “Just think, when we reach the hospital, they can give you drugs,” Dimitri says.

  I look at him, shocked enough at his statement that I manage to laugh. “I told them I didn’t want drugs. They…advised against it due to my condition,” I admit.

  “Oh, well…you may want to rethink that.”

  ***

  “Fuck!”

  I tighten my fingers around the side of the bed as I stand, momentarily blinded from the contractions that are now only minutes apart. Doris is rubbing my back, cooing to me softly, reminding me to breathe through it. By the time I made it to the hospital, my contractions were too close. Drugs are now a distant dream.

  “Find out where Benjamin is,” I plead breathlessly as soon as it subsides.

  “Okay, honey. Okay.”

  She opens the door as Dimitri is coming in. He is probably whiter than me.

  “Where is he?”

  “In traffic. Construction blocked off the intersection.”

  “Fuck,” I groan. “How far?”

  “I’m not sure. He…was running when we got off the phone.”

  Both Doris and I look toward the window, uttering the same thing at the same time. “It’s raining.”

  I momentarily become calm enough to picture my husband, Benjamin Scott, racing through vehicles in a storm in order to make it to the birth of his child.

  “Oh, Christ.” I feel another one coming on. “They’re real close now.”

  Doctor Trigiani enters the room, followed by another nurse. I’m punched in the stomach, slammed by another contraction.

  “How far apart are they?” she asks the nurse.

  “Minutes now.”

 

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