by Penny Wylder
Shit.
I don't answer, letting it go to voicemail. There's no way I can talk to him right now. I'm a damn mess. My head is all over the place, I feel like I'm going to throw up again. Tears rest on the sharp edges of my lids, ready to break away the second I blink.
I can't have a conversation with Lyle right now, not like this. But he calls back.
Settling my nerves, I take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Answering the call, I keep the tremble out of my voice the best I can. “Hey,” I say.
“What time are you coming back? You left in such a hurry, and you didn't say where you were going.”
Come back? I can't come back.
“I'm really not feeling good.” It's not a complete lie, there is some truth in it. I threw up on the sidewalk and was feeling dizzy. It's not why I stormed out like I did, but the fact I left so abruptly is reason enough for them to fire me.
I can't lose this job.
“No problem. You did seem really off. You know what, take the rest of the day, and we'll see you tomorrow.” To my surprise, Lyle sounds understanding, and somewhat relaxed to think I'm sick.
Of course he does. You were a sobbing, emotional mess. He probably thinks I got my period.
“Thanks, that'll be good.”
“Sandy's here too, and she says you guys can talk in the morning about the changes she asked for.”
“Oh, um, right.”
What did you say to her?
I don't ask him, the question lingers in my head. Voiceless, mute, a question I can't ask because she's right beside him.
“Get some rest, and I hope you feel better tomorrow.”
“I will, thanks.” Hitting end, I drop the phone back inside my purse.
Pressing my fingers to my forehead, I massage my head with small circles. This is information I'm not ready to process.
How the hell is Lyle going to take it?
The thought makes my chest hurt and my brain pound like it's going to explode.
Tomorrow I have to go to work and either tell him the truth or keep it a secret until the time is right. I'm not sure what option is best.
Secrets have a way of getting out, and the truth can sometimes be too much to hear.
Either way, our lives are never going to be same.
9
Dalia
Tapping the pen against my desk, I stare off into space. I haven't been able to focus on anything. All I keep thinking about is the baby in my belly, and how the hell I'm going to find the words to tell Lyle.
The phone on my desk rings, causing me to jump. “Hello?” I ask, holding the receiver tightly against my ear. I don't know who I expect on the other end, but my voice holds a slight edge.
“Ms. Greene? Mr. Vox would like to see you in his office.”
“I'm on my way.”
I take a moment, fixing the stuff on my desk. I don't need to, but I do it to postpone having to see Lyle in person. I move the pens, I adjust the papers, I fix the little snow globe I got in Italy when Kira and I went one summer during college.
The phone rings again. “Hello?”
“Mr. Vox is waiting.”
“Right, sorry. I'm going now.”
Standing up, I run my palms down the front of my dress, pulling on the fabric. Straightening my back, I try to push the pregnancy to the back of my mind. I'll tell him, I'm just not sure if today is the day.
The walk to his office is quiet and cold. The hall feels smaller, like the walls are closing in around me the closer I get. I'm not sure I can do this. I'm not sure I can face him without blurting it out with no warning.
I stop outside his door, resting my hand on my stomach as I inhale a big breath. My belly expands with air, and a flash of the future bursts behind my eyes. Shaking the image away, I slowly walk to his door.
Lyle's face is buried in a pile of papers. He has a look of concentration with a hint of frustration in his wrinkled brows.
Taking a step in, I knock at the same time. He lifts his eyes to me, and smiles. It's a warm smile, a happy smile. And I can't help myself, I smile back.
“Hey,” he says. “You're looking better. How do you feel today?” His eyes fall back to the pile of papers.
“Better, thanks for not getting pissed that I left.”
“It's fine, I could tell something was wrong.” He looks up at me briefly and smiles again, then drops his gaze back to the paper. “You see this yet?” he asks, holding up a few of the papers. “Did you get a chance to look over the new ads?”
“No, actually I didn't.” Stepping to his desk, I lift one of them up to look at it when something else catches my eye. Quirking a brow, I push a couple more out of the way, and pull out a paper from the bottom. “Is this. . .” My voice trails off as I stare at the doodles and inked designs.
I recognize it instantly. It's my handwriting, my designs.
Lyle nods, leaning back in his chair. “It is.”
It's the page from my sketch book, the one I had drawn our names together on in hearts and scribbles of little love notes. I even wrote my name as if I was married to him. Dalia Vox. Mrs. Dalia Vox. Mr. and Mrs. Lyle Vox.
“I can't believe you have this.”
“Yeah, I've kept it for years. I was going to give it back to you at prom, but then the fire alarm happened, and well, I just kept it for myself. I never could get myself to throw it away.”
Tears spring to life, and I'm sobbing uncontrollably. My fingers pinch both sides of the paper, and I try to keep my focus on those little heartfelt drawings.
“Dalia, what's wrong?” Lyle jumps up from his chair and grabs me by the arms. Pulling me into his chest, he holds me tight. “What is going on with you? Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” I say as I shake my head. “You didn't do anything wrong. Everything is wrong, it's all wrong! And now you're going to hate me.”
“Hate you?” Lyle pinches my chin and lifts my face. “Why would you ever think that I'd hate you?” His gaze searches mine, brows dipping in hard. “I need you to calm down and tell me what's going on exactly.” Using his thumbs, he wipes the tears away from my eyes. “What are you talking about?”
Biting on my bottom lip, I pull it into my mouth as the water just keeps flowing. Sniffling, my eyes dance between his, and I'm looking for the right words to use.
But there aren't any right words to give him. There are only two. Two words that change everything the second I say them out loud.
“I'm pregnant.” Biting on the inside of my cheek, my fingers nervously grasp the fabric of my blouse and twist it tight.
I watch him suck in a quick breath. “Pregnant?” I nod. “Pregnant? You're sure?”
Nodding again, I say, “Yes, I'm sure. I'm pregnant with your baby, Lyle.”
He freezes. His fingers stop caressing, his eyes stop flickering, his chest stops lifting. He just peers down at me like a statue.
What is he thinking? What do I say?
I shouldn't have said anything!
“Lyle, look, I—”
Out of nowhere, Lyle sweeps me off my feet as he plants a firm kiss on my lips. Breaking the kiss, he grins wide and proud. “A baby,” he says happily, spinning me around. “I can't believe you're having our baby.” Hugging me, he holds me even tighter.
“Wait, you're not mad?” I ask, pushing against his shoulders to look him in the eyes.
“Mad? Of course I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?”
“I don't know. A baby is a big deal, an unexpected baby is an even bigger deal.”
“I'm excited, Dalia, this is incredible. I'm going to be a father. This is incredible, I'm shocked, but I'm excited.” Lyle sets me down, holding my hips to make sure I have my balance.
“I thought you'd think your life was over.” Tugging my shirt down, I unknowingly rest my hand on my belly.
His eyes drift to my stomach and he smiles. “My life—this isn't just my life, it's—our life. And our life is just beginning.” He steps closer, placing hi
s palm on my stomach.
His hand on my belly makes my body warm. His touch is soft and protective, causing my heart to flutter and my pussy to get wet.
“I'm always going to be here, Dalia, for you and our baby.”
“You promise?” I ask, placing my hand over his.
“I promise.” His lips gently brush mine as his eyes soothe all my worry.
He brushes loose hair out of my face, taking my face in his palm. The tip of his tongue teases my lips, but I don't shy away. I welcome it, opening my mouth wide. I'm giving myself to him, he owns my heart and my body, now more than ever.
Lyle cups my breast, twisting my nipple as his tongue swirls in my mouth. I moan softly, letting my body bend into his as he pinches my nipple harder and drives his tongue deeper.
I'm wet, my panties stick my folds, and my clit is aching to be touched. As if he knows what my body needs, he slips his hand down my neck, riding every curve until he stops on my ass. He pulls me in hard, and I feel his engorged cock against my hip.
“I need you right now, Dalia. Not later, not tomorrow, right now.” His lips are against my cheek as he speaks, and he moves with a devastatingly slow pace to my neck.
The sharp edges of his teeth gently glide over the muscle, and he takes a greedy bite.
Sucking in a sharp breath, my body quivers as he flutters heavy kisses over my skin. “I need you too,” I say as I tilt my head, making room for him to taste, to nibble, to devour if he chooses.
“Yeah, you need me?” His lips lower, licking my collarbone, and across my chest. He moves to my other collarbone, and his hand squeezes my tit. Nodding, I have no more words to give him.
Grabbing his cock, I squeeze. “Fuck me.” My eyes hold his and Lyle smirks.
He's won. He's won and I'm more than happy to let him. This man has corrupted me in the best way possible. He's kept me with him all these years. That little piece of paper is all I need to know we've never been apart.
With one quick spin, Lyle presses his hand against my shoulder, and bends me over his desk. With eager hands, he bunches my dress up around my hips and pulls my panties to the side.
The sound of his zipper makes my body ignite, and my pussy throb. He rubs the tip of his cock up my folds, smearing my arousal. I look back over my shoulder, and his eyes hood as he bites his bottom lip.
I know that look. It's the look of desire, of carnal need.
With one hard thrust, his thick cock stretches me open. I groan, letting my body rest on his desk as he starts to move his hips.
He pulls out to the ridge of his cock, then drives back in. His hands hold my ass, squeezing firmly. Pistoning his hips, he grunts with each thrust. My pussy clenches tight as his tip threatens to break free.
Milking his length, I rock my hips as he reaches around and flicks my swelling clit. My legs shake, and my knees threaten to give way.
This man knows how to touch me, how to caress me, how to break me. And I fucking love it.
In and out, in and out, the only sound between us is moaning and slapping skin. His cock is hard as rock, going so deep I can feel him hit the back of my pussy. His finger circles my tender bud, flicking and rubbing.
“Fuck, Lyle, I'm so close, don't stop.” My body rocks faster, my hips jerk harder, forcing him in even deeper.
Raking my nails down the top of his desk, I shove papers to the floor. I'm so close, it's right there, he just needs to go a little bit more. Driving himself in, he pinches my clit and my body goes wild.
The orgasm floods my system, rushing through me like a fucking roaring river. It's so intense, I've never cum so hard in my life. I'm not sure if it's the pregnancy or the fact that I know Lyle is real.
He's not a figment of my imagination. He's not a fictitious character I created in my head. He's here, he's tangible, I can feel him in every muscle and vein.
Lyle pulls out, chuckling to himself. “Good thing I don't need to worry about knocking you up.”
I smile as I fix my dress, and pick the papers up off the floor. He grabs a few tissues, wiping himself off and tucking his cock back into his pants.
“This is going to be good, you know that? This baby has no idea how lucky it is.”
“It?” I ask, cocking my head into my shoulder. “We need to call it something other than it.”
He leans forward, resting his lips on mine as he says, “We could just call it blessing.”
“Lyle,” Sandy says right before stepping into his office.
Pushing him away, I take a long step back, and wipe my eyes and my mouth, trying to erase any trace of what we just did.Sandy stops short, suspiciously looking between us. “What's going on here?” she asks, veering her stare.
She knows. She can fucking see it clear it as day.
“What do you need, Sandy? Dalia and I were just going over some of the graphics for Monte Bread.”
“Is that all you two were doing? Really?”
“Are you done,” he asks, rolling his eyes as he starts to organize the papers on his desk. “Did you come here for something? Or are you just trying to micromanage the entire fucking company?”
Grunting, she arches the corner of her lip as she talks through gritted teeth. “I just need your signature on a few things for the company party.” Her eyes move to mine as her back stiffens. “You're coming to the party, right Dalia?”
I don't like the way she's looking at me. It's knowing, it's heavy, it's like she can see right through me, reading my every thought.
Clearing my throat, I run an open hand across the back of my neck. “Uh, yeah, I'll be there if you want me there.”
“Of course we want you there. It wouldn't look too good if our newest star designer didn't show her face.”
Smiling, I nod. “Then I'm there.”
“Good,” Sandy says, twisting back to take the paper from Lyle that she needed him to sign. “I'll leave you two alone.” She glances back over her shoulder as she walks out of his office.
“That was close,” I say. “What are we going to do? I don't want to live our lives in secret, Lyle. Eventually, Sandy is going to learn the truth.”
With one long stride, Lyle is at my side, scooping an arm around my waist to pull me in. “I don't want you worrying about her. I'll deal with my sister. You just make sure you keep this baby safe.”
Bending over, Lyle kisses my belly. My heart goes spastic, hammering inside my chest. His eyes glow already with love for our baby. With a tender hand, he cups my lower belly and looks up at me.
“This baby is mine, it's ours, and no matter what, I'm going to be right here by your side.”
Back when we were kids and I drew those hearts with arrows, I honestly thought I was in love. But I was too young to truly understand what love meant.
It isn't until right here, right now, that I fully grasp what it means to love.
Love is endless. Love doesn't have walls or boundaries.
Love is a feeling that can hurt as much as it can make your heart soar.
Love is knowing that no matter what, there's life where it never existed before.
This. . . This is love.
Letting the bathroom door swing shut, I take my phone from my purse, eager to call Kira and tell her everything that's going on. I have a feeling she's going to be excited about this baby.
Scrolling through my contacts, I find her name. My thumb hovers over the screen, about to click the call button, when something catches my attention. Lifting my head, I tilt my ear toward the row of stalls.
The sound is soft. Is that sniffles?
Bending slightly, I attempt to look and see if someone is in one of the stalls. When suddenly the door on the end gets yanked opened, and a woman steps out.
She stops short, her eyes meeting mine, wide and stunned.
“Dalia, I didn't know you were in here.” Sandy clears her throat and adjusts her blouse. Grabbing a paper towel, she wipes her nose. “All done with my brother, I see.” Her tone is harsh as she leans into the
mirror, running the paper towel under her eyes.
“Are you all right?” I ask, crossing my arms protectively. Even right now, the woman intimidates me.
Her eyes dart to mine through the mirror, and she frowns. She looks like she wants to say something, but out of nowhere, she starts sobbing. Sandy is crying hard, her hands resting on the sink as she drops her head.
“What's wrong?” Rushing to her side, I rub her back, letting her know she can talk to me.
We might not have seen eye to eye back in school, we might have been in different circles, with different friends, but that's not who we are anymore.
I feel terrible right now for her and whatever it is she's going through. I've always thought of her as woman with no soul, so to see her this upset, I can't help but think it's serious.
Sandy's breathing is ragged and labored as she tries to inhale. “It's just. . . It's hard. . .” Grunting, she shakes her head and drops onto her forearms, holding her head over the sink. “It's my brother. It's like he doesn't care anymore about our company.”
More tears come flowing out hard and fast. I just stay quiet, letting her talk.
“He's been different. It's not like him to be so distant. I'm worried, Dalia,” she says, finally lifting her head to look at me through the mirror again. “I'm worried he wants out.”
“Out?” I ask, crinkling my brows in confusion. “Out of what?”
“Out of this,” she says, standing up straight and looking around the bathroom like it holds the answer I'm looking for.
I don't understand, and she sees it. Rolling her eyes, she grabs another paper towel and wipes her nose. “The company. I think he wants to get out of here. If he leaves, I don't know what I'll do. I can't do this without him, this place is us, it won't work if he's not here.”
Shaking my head, my lips push out in disagreement. “No, I don't think that's true. Lyle won't leave this place.”
“What else could it be then? Why else would he seem so uninterested in this place? It doesn't make sense.”
She sounds so frazzled, so emotional and lost, I'm compelled to tell her everything. I don't want her to worry that her brother is going to abandon her, because that's not the truth.