Ripped

by Olivia Rigal

  "Sure," I say. "Alexandra is a pretty name."

  "Then Alexandra it is."

  ***

  Ten's family minus the Ice Queen comes to visit us the next morning. They crowd my room and go through the required "ooh"s and "aah"s and then James Senior asks, "So what's her name?"

  "Alexandra." Ten's answer has his grand father snorting and Ten's dad all teary eyes. The poor man must still be in love with his dreadful wife who will probably never come and visit.

  "I thought Alexandra Jane Clark has a nice ring to it," I say, keeping my eyes on the baby.

  "Now you're talking," roars James Senior at the addition of his wife's name to the one of his detested daughter in law.

  Ten bends over to kiss me and whispers, "Nicely played, partner."

  After what seems an eternity, a nurse comes and chases them out. Ten accompanies them to the door.

  I'm blissfully alone in my room and once the nurse has checked me out, I lower my hospital gown to start nursing Alexandra. I close my eyes and breathe in deep. There's this direct connection between the nipple and the shrinking uterus that is violent.

  I finish nursing and Ten's not back yet. I guess his family is getting chatty. The door opens as I'm closing the nursing bra.

  "Why?"

  It's Alexander not Ten. He looks a mess. He stands at the foot of my bed and says, "I want to kill the bastard. He should have called me months ago."

  I don't know if he's talking about his brother or about Ten but I don't care. I shush him, "Please lower your voice, you'll scare the baby."

  "Why?" he asks again more softly.

  "Why what?"

  "Why didn't you let me know?"

  "If you're joking, this is not funny," I say.

  "Damn right, it's not funny. Didn't you read the note I left you?"

  "No and I didn't open the box either. They are probably still in the drawer of my nightstand."

  "You didn't even look at it? Why?"

  "Because there is nothing that you could possibly have written that would have taken away the pain you inflicted when you left."

  "But I wrote that I would always love you." It takes all my will power not to scream at him. "I wrote that I wanted to spend my life with you."

  "Right, you said that to me that last night and then you waited for me to fall asleep to run out like a coward." I'm talking as softly as I can because of the baby. What I really want is to scream at the top of my lungs.

  "There was more to it. I love you and you know that if you had told me you were pregnant again there was no way anyone could have kept me away. I would have done the right thing," he whisper-shouts.

  "The right thing." I repeat shaking my head. He nods frantically. "Oh Alex, have you ever understood anything about me at all?" He looks absolutely clueless so I guess not. I need to spell it out for him. "You know that I spent the first eighteen years of my life feeling unwanted and unwelcome every single day."

  He's listening intently, maybe for the first time, but he's still not getting it. "You realize that I hated every second of that life?" He nods. "Then how could you imagine I would consider for an instant living with a man who would stay with me because it was the right thing to do?"

  Still, he's not getting it. "Alex, I want the man I live with to be by my side because he wants to be with me and not out of a sense of duty." There's a flicker of understanding in his eyes. Maybe, at last, he's starting to see my point of view.

  "I want the man I live with to be happy to see me every morning when he wakes up and glad to come home to me at night. I could never settle for a man who will go through the motion while regretting some other life that he wished he could have had, and that's who you would have been." He looks broken but I'm too mad at him to let it go at that. "So reading your card couldn't have made a difference. Whatever it said you couldn't have changed my mind. You made it up for me when you left me."

  "You should have read it, Love..."

  I interrupt him. "And now you have no right to tell me about your regrets or to say that you feel miserable because you made your bed."

  "And you can't call her 'Love' anymore," Ten says. How long has he been standing there? Alexander turns around and looks at Ten and then back at me.

  "Fine, I won't call you Love anymore. But please, don't shut me out." He looks at his daughter and says, "I never got a chance to see our first daughter. Please, let me be a part of this baby's life?"

  Ten looks at me and shrugs. I understand that he's letting me decide. My mind is racing. I want to send him away but then again I can't see myself denying him access to his daughter. He's not a bad man. He's just ... selfish and immature.

  Ten looks at me wrestling with my conflicting feelings and comes up with a suggestion "He could be her Godfather." Alexander nods and looks at me.

  I stare back at both of them. "I don't want us to lie to her," I say. They both frown at me. "Ten, you will be her father. She will have your name but she will be told that Alexander is not only her Godfather, that he's also her biological father."

  Ten thinks for a few second and then nods. Alexander breathes deeply and says, "Thank you." It's not a perfect solution but then it's not a perfect situation either.

  "What did you decide to call her?"

  "We're calling her after Ten's mother and grandmother," I say.

  "So what's her name?" Alexander asks again.

  "She's Alexandra Jane," Ten answers and has an awakening when he sees Alexander smile for the first time since he's entered the room.

  "Her Godfather approves, you couldn't have thought of a better name."

  The look in Ten's eyes tells me louder than words that incredibly, somehow, he had not realized before this instant the irony of his choice.

  "Alexander," I say. "I'm tired now, I would appreciate it if you left us."

  "Of course, I'll be on my way. May I kiss her before I go?"

  Without giving me a chance to answer he leans over our daughter and puts his lips on her forehead. He's so close that I breathe him in. Nothing conjures up memories more sharply than the sense of smell for me. His smell is so sweet, it's pure torture. As he raises his eyes to me, I shake my head and he knows better than to touch me. But the damage is done. Scar tissue is bleeding again.

  Ten studies me as I watch Alex walk out. When the door closes he says, "Seeing him still hurts." It's not a question, he can see it my eyes.

  I don't hide it but I let him know how much I believe in him. "I'll be fine. You're gonna make it all better. Right?"

  "Yes, dear. I'm your husband now and it's my duty to make it better," he says. I think I see relief in his eyes. He's happy that I don't lie to him but still my honesty is probably hard on him.

  Part Three: 1981 - 1983

  Chapter Seventeen

  There's this feeling of déjà vu as I look around the living room that we just finished getting party ready.

  Déjà vu with a major difference. The 1979 Andy was already drunk at that time. The 1980 version of Andy is only lightly buzzed as he goes about placing ashtrays in the strategic places. True to his resolution, he's been drinking beer instead of scotch and the lighter drink agrees much better with him. There's another major difference. I'm no longer waiting for Alexander to come back home to me. The wait for Alexander is over. I'm with Ten now and tonight's the night.

  We've been married almost two months and sleeping in the same bed. For the first month the most exciting thing I did was nursing Alexandra under Ten's watchful gaze. A few weeks later, after a check up, I reported that we had the doctor's green light for sex but Ten said it was too soon.

  I was relieved and disappointed at the same time.

  Ten's been a perfect husband in every other way. He is true to his word. He promised me that we would be partners and we are. He consults with me on all his important decisions and he's given me a power of attorney on all his accounts. I know precisely where we are financially and we're actually doing very well.

  The
fact that James senior is paying for the au-pair girl for the first two years does make our life a lot easier.

  Ten has also been an open book about his past. The only thing he's been discreet about is Giovanni. He confessed, "He's my Alexander. I'll keep the scar of that relationship but the wound is closed."

  Slowly the nature of my love for him has shifted. Sometimes I wake up at night and watch him sleep. I long for him to touch me. The more we wait the more I actually want him to want me. I realize he was right to make us wait.

  Last week I asked him if we were ever going to consummate our marriage and he grinned at me in such a way that I understood it was what he had wanted all along. He had been waiting for me to ask him.

  "How does New Year's eve sound?" he answered.

  "Like an eternity away," I said and for my eagerness had been treated to a toe curling kiss. His erection was pressed along my leg and I almost reached out for him but then I remembered what he had said, "In bed, I'll be your boss and you'll be my plaything." I had to let him take the initiative and he had said New Year's Eve so I waited.

  Every night since then there's been a lot of kissing and hugging and touching. He gets me all worked up and then, when I'm really hot and bothered, he says "New Year's Eve..."

  The man is devilishly manipulative when it comes to sex.

  So tonight there's a lump in my chest as I'm simultaneously looking forward to and dreading the last stroke of midnight.

  Andy's totally oblivious to my state of mind. He's in his own bubble because he thinks he's going to score tonight. He's invited Mary-Ann, the cute woman that was in the judge's office when Ten and I were married. I had thought at the time that she was the clerk but she's turned out to be younger than I imagined. She's a college student working part time as an administrative assistant and not a law school graduate acting as a clerk.

  She made enough of an impression on Andrew that he went back to haunt the courthouse everyday during his lunch hour until he ran into her again. He's been taking her out a lot and she's come by the house a few of times. I've had a chance to get to know her a bit. Mary-Ann hangs out with me while the men are watching some sporting events on television.

  She's physically my polar opposite: blond with blue eyes and porcelain skin. She's so tiny she looks fragile but she's stronger than she appears. She's working her way through college and I think she'll go for a graduate degree once she decides what she wants to do. She's been in the courthouse long enough to know that law is not her thing. She enjoys the legal reasoning but hates conflicts. Before that she worked in a veterinary clinic and while she did love working with the animals she couldn't deal with the owners.

  "I've been thinking about my career choices," she tells me when I return to the kitchen where she's helping me preparing finger food. "I think I'm not a people person. I'm more at ease with abstract ideas than with real live situations."

  "So it seems," I tell her. "You need a job that minimizes contacts with third parties. Maybe something in the field of research or you could become a writer. Writing is a very solitary exercise, no?"

  "How do you do it?" she asks.

  "Do what?"

  "Deal with people all day? The restaurant staff, the patrons, the suppliers, your boss, how do you put up with that? And then you come home and you've got to deal with three men, an infant, and the au-pair girl. I would go nuts!"

  "Really, you would?" She nods. "I've never thought about it that way. I just enjoy working with people. I get a kick out of pairing talents. We're all a tiny part of a giant jigsaw puzzle. We need connections. When people click, the sum of what they can accomplish together is so much more that what they could all do going their separate ways."

  She looks at me as if I were an out of space creature.

  "I understand that some people would rather work on their own but we all need to bounce our ideas off someone after a while, no? What's the use of writing the most beautiful book if no one can read it? What the purpose of discovering some fabulous invention if you don't share it afterwards?"

  The intercom interrupts me. The other guests are arriving. Ten opens the kitchen door and gestures for us to get out in the lobby with him. "Thank you for helping me and keeping me company today," I tell her as we walk out.

  "It's always a pleasure to be with you," she says. "I have this tendency to see everything in black and white, I like that you make me notice shades of grey."

  "If you stick around long enough, you'll even start to see colors," Ten says. "Lyv's greatest power is the one she gives to those she loves. With her by my side I know I can conquer the world."

  My heart stops. Ten's words are identical to those Alexander said to me the last night we were together. I guess this is what they both see in me, someone that believes in them so much that they become invincible. I wonder how I do that.

  I look at Ten and the affection I read in his eyes is mind-blowing. I put the tray I was carrying down on a table and go to him. "I love you," I say for the millionth time. I so want him to understand, to know for certain that he's not my second choice, my fall back guy.

  "And I love you more than you know, Lovey," he says. There's a twinkle in his eyes and all my apprehensions about tonight vanish for an instant.

  "You guys are going to make me sick," Andrew says and he makes noises as if he's going to vomit.

  Mary-Ann playfully hits him and says, "I think it's charming that they are so in love and that Ten's not afraid to say it."

  Andrew rolls his eyes at her but it seems he gets the message about showing affection since he grabs her hand. It's a beginning.

  The evening passes in a blur and soon enough after we cheered in the new year, Andrew escapes to his room with Mary-Ann. Oliver won't be home for a few hours. He's a first year attending physician now and the first year docs get to pull all the holiday night supervision.

  Ten's cousin Jimmy, his childhood buddy Steven, and the girl who seems to be their common girlfriend are the last to go. I'm happy that Ten is staying connected with them. I actually like them.

  When the girl was out of ears' reach, Jimmy and Steven mentioned something about starting a family. I don't really understand how they're going to make it work but I'm all for it. Are there girls out there who are okay with living with two men for good? I hope there are because it would be nice if our kids had cousins.

  I tip-toe into my old room where Ten has set up Alexandra's cradle. Tonight is a first for her as well. She's moving out of her parent's bedroom. She doesn't seem to mind. She's sleeping soundly. She's been sleeping through the nights and she'll be perfectly safe in here. That's what I repeat to myself as I walk out and close the door. I turn around and Ten is watching me from our bedroom. He holds out a hand to me. I walk to him and I take it.

  "Come on, Lovey. It's time for bed."

  He closes the door behind us and I say, "I'll be there in a minute."

  I go to the bathroom and brush my teeth. As I get out of the bathroom he's waiting for me by the door. He catches both my hands in his and pins me against the wall with our arms up in the air. He looks at me so intently I close my eyes and shudder.

  "What do you want, Lyv?" he asks.

  I open my eyes again and whisper, "I want you, Ten. I want you so much it scares me."

  "Good, I want you to be mine, just mine," he growls as he nips at my neck.

  "Then do it," I plead.

  Keeping my two hands up with just one of his, he unzips the back of my skirt. It falls to the floor. He pushes my underwear down and I wiggle to make it drop further. His hand explores the apex of my leg and in a minute he has me panting.

  I realize that I'll probably have bite marks on my shoulders and my neck for weeks but I don't care. I buck into his hand and moan. He brings me close and then stops to open his belt buckle with one hand. Close again and he stops for the top button of his pants. Oh so close and I whimper, "Please, Ten, don't stop."

  He chuckles, "Patience, Lovey. We have our whole lives ahea
d of us, there's no hurry."

  I let out a growl of protest and he silences me with a kiss. He takes over my mouth and with each flick of his tongue a piece of my will vanishes. My entire existence is limited to my reactions to his touch. The only part of me that remains is the mirror to his desire. When his mouth leaves mine to tear with his teeth the wrapping of the condom that he took out of his pocket, I'm consumed by my need to become one with him. My entire body arches up into him. He frees my hands and says, "Hold on to me, Lovey."

  I wrap my arms around him as he lifts my up. My legs are around him as he pushes into me. Trapped between the wall and him, I have this incredible sensation of lightness as he pummels into me.

  What I feel is so intense, I'm afraid of letting myself go. I fear that if I do I will explode in so many tiny pieces that I will never be whole again. Somehow Ten must sense it because he says, "Come on baby, you're safe with me, let me take you higher."

  That undoes me and I gasp back, "Don't hold back, my love."

  His pace picks up and I do shatter in so many delicious directions that I totally lose control. But losing control again is fine. Ten is here whispering in my ears that he loves me and that he'll never let me go. It conjures memories of other tender whispers but I chase them out of my mind. I have a husband and I'm in love with him.

  We rest, out of breath in each other's arms until Ten gently frees my legs. He holds on to me to make sure, I'm able to stand. I'm shaking like a leaf.

  "Are you cold, my love?" he asks.

  "No. Just overwhelmed by emotions."

  Chapter Eighteen

  I enter the bathroom and leave Ten in the bedroom looking kind of funny with his pants half way down his legs and his hair all messed up. He's sexy as hell but funny too. I finish undressing in the bathroom and get back into our room wearing one of his T-shirts I've been using as a nightgown since we started sharing the same bed. He's gloriously naked, laying on his stomach, half covered by the bed sheets. His back is turned to me as he's setting up the cassette player by the bedside. He gets the machine started and it plays My First, My Last, My Everything. Barry White's deep voice makes the room cozier.