#B!TCH (#Jerk #2)

by Kat T. Masen

  I shouldn’t get involved. This is none of my business. Yet, I sympathize with Morgan. I know firsthand how much it hurts when the one you love is lying in a bed with someone else. The pain is indescribable.

  “Well, for starters, you don’t seek comfort in someone else’s vagina,” I blurt out, regretting my choice of words almost instantly. “Look, Noah, I’m sorry. I’m not in your shoes nor do I ever wish to be. You’ve made some costly mistakes. I hope you find a way to move forward, with or without Morgan.”

  “Hey…” He smiles, clearing the momentary painful emotions from his face. “Like I said, your man only has eyes for you. You can trust him.”

  I return the smile, letting out a relieved breath because he didn’t castigate me for my inappropriate outburst. Beside me, my screen lights up, and there is a text from Haden.

  Haden: I’m in the office. Wait for me, baby. I miss you.

  My lips curve upward into a satisfied smile. I’ve missed him too. Haden was traveling more so than usual much to my disappointment, but we both agreed we need to do what is best for Masen.

  However, things between us were great.

  Ever since Marcus’s wedding, we reconnected the intimate side of our relationship. We discovered a new routine—midnight quickies in the study or bathroom while Masen is sprawled out on our bed. The condom topic was squashed, but Haden agrees for me to continue the pill until Masen starts school. It is a compromise which satisfies us both and alleviates the tension that was mounting between us.

  Staring at my computer, I try to organize the chaos running through my mind. I’d pushed my team, pushed myself to work as much as I can, but the hard, cold reality is that we need more staff. We are growing at a faster pace than we envisioned, and although Haden’s plans to retain staff will ease some of the burden, there will be a lot of training involved and more of my time.

  I take to the bathroom, feeling slightly unwell. The air conditioning has been playing up, and maintenance is slow to do anything until Haden lost his temper and demanded they fix it as soon as possible.

  With a splash of cold water to my face, I feel a lot better and decide to pack my things to head home.

  Popping my head into Haden’s office, his face is riddled with concern, which usually means he will stay back.

  “Hey, you,” I greet him, keeping my distance as other employees walk past me. “I’m heading home. Not sure why I’m exhausted today.”

  Haden snickers, raising his eyes to meet mine. Leaning back in his chair, it’s impossible to ignore how sexy he looks in his charcoal suit. “Perhaps it had something to do with the midnight marathon the other day. You always say you can’t come twice, but you proved yourself wrong.”

  I’m quick to hush him, scanning the hallway in case anyone hears. “Can you keep your voice down? And you’re right, it did take it out of me.”

  “Give me five minutes, I’ll just finish this email up then come with you.”

  Surprised he is coming home, I tell him I’ll meet him at the car, desperate to remove my heels from my aching feet.

  True to his word, he enters the car five minutes later. I gently lean in, caressing my handsome husband’s face before he draws closer, placing his lips on mine. I’ve missed the smell of his skin, the taste of his lips, and the way he makes everything in the world disappear in such an innocent kiss.

  We pull apart, taking shaky, shallow breaths. Unable to contain our desperate need for each other, Haden holds my head in his hands, pulling me in for a fiery kiss. His tongue explores my mouth, gentle moans escaping as the car begins to heat up, and the windows fog up.

  His hands work their way around my body, feeling each crevice, each line along until they’ve slid in between the opening of my thighs. I gasp, clutching his wrist as he grazes closer to my panties, and without hesitation, slides his fingers inside me causing me to yelp.

  “Shh,” he whispers into my ear. “You gonna come for me, baby?”

  I nod, keeping my eyes closed as the wave of pleasure seeps into every part of my body. Despite the stifling air inside the confined space, my skin breaks out into small goosebumps, desperate to explode all over his soaking wet fingers.

  “Harder,” I beg, quietly. “Harder, please.”

  The speed of his thrusting increases, and the second his tongue glides down my neck, he claims me completely with his fingers, the pleasure tearing through me like a tornado, my breathing catches inside my throat as I moan loudly.

  Haden withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips as I open my eyes. He carefully rolls his tongue around them, licking every inch of me off. How does this man do this to me every time?

  “You ready to go home?” he asks with a satisfied smile.

  I nod, barely able to function.

  On the car ride home, I close my eyes as Haden takes a business call. The second I open them, we are driving up the driveway.

  “Nice snooze?”

  “Sorry,” I yawn. “I had three cups of coffee today. You’d think I’d be pumped and raring to go.”

  Haden sneaks a kiss on my cheek. “Go inside and take a bath. I’ll take care of Masen. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds like you’re playing Prince Charming because you need to get blown tonight.”

  He parts his lips, a grin forming as he moves my hair away from my neck. “Sounds like you know your husband very well.”

  Masen’s eager to see the two of us having spent the day at pre-school, then with Gemma. He has a dozen stories to tell—how he fell over and scraped his knee, quick to point out the smallest of sores on his already bruised knee where he scraped it last week at the park, to the games they played which included a song about dinosaurs.

  Rosa’s also still around and has made us dinner which I appreciate so much since it isn’t part of her job description. Today has really taken a toll on me, and that orgasm has completely knocked me out. I ask her to stay, but she tells us she has church to attend tonight. Not wanting her to take the bus so late, I offer to drive her home.

  “Are you sure? I can do that,” Haden offers. “You still look tired.”

  “No, it’s fine.” I grab a bottle of water, downing the whole bottle in one go. Dehydration often led to my body feeling flat, so this should help for the next few hours.

  “I have to pick up some stuff at CVS. I ran out of shampoo, plus Masen didn’t see you last night. You spend time with him.”

  Rosa lives twenty minutes away, and with the traffic easing, it doesn’t take me too long. After dropping her off, I quickly pop into CVS grabbing a basket in my hand. On the ride here, I made a mental note of other supplies we’ve run out of.

  My hair, as usual, requires the most attention and reacts to certain products. It is the hardest thing in my life to manage aside from Haden’s libido.

  I grab my shampoo and a few other supplies, then decide to head to the checkout.

  Passing the feminine hygiene aisle, I pull up to a stop. Dr. Somersby’s warning suddenly comes to my mind. The pill is only ninety-nine-point-seven percent effective.

  Yet my feet walk on their own accord until I’m facing the pregnancy tests. So, I’m one day late, which means absolutely nothing on the pill. There are still a few days before panic is warranted.

  Menstrual cycles have a way of delaying due to stress. Work is piling up, the house is getting a bit out of hand, and all signs point to just that—stress. Yet, it won’t hurt to ease my worrying mind, for all intents and purposes of eliminating the stressful elements.

  There is a substantial number of pregnancy tests perched on the shelf, each box displaying its accuracy and speed. It’s been five years since I last completed a test. So much looks like it has changed, yet maybe, nothing has at all.

  I throw one into my basket and quickly pay, then head back home.

  Masen has just finished his bath and is getting ready for bed when I arrive. I put away my supplies, shoving the test underneath the vanity amongst my tampons.

  Ha
den is reading a story to Masen, the two of them almost falling asleep in sync. Haden’s also been pushing himself lately, and I am worried it will soon take a toll on him. Between flying back and forth, acquiring Indie Press, and Marshall’s demands, I don’t want him to burn out. He often refers himself as a machine, but machines can only run for so long before they blow a fuse.

  I clear my throat, and his eyes spring open at the sound. Haden places the book down, kisses Masen on the forehead, then climbs off his bed and shuts the door behind him.

  “He’s knocked out cold.”

  “As were you,” I tease, unbuttoning his shirt. “Come to bed. You need rest.”

  “I’ve got to work tonight. I won’t be too long. Promise.”

  Haden disappears into our study as I make my way to the bathroom. I never got that bath earlier and contemplate having one now, but the test is burning a hole in my vanity and making me extremely anxious.

  With the door locked behind me, I take a deep breath and remove the stick from the foil package. The instructions are simple—pee on stick, wait five minutes before checking the final result.

  The thoughts are accelerating inside my head. I want them to slow down, so my rational thoughts can talk this through. Breathe, just breathe. I’m on the pill, we’ve never had a mishap in the last four years. When it came to taking the pill, I am diligent. Always on time, at least, I think I am always on time. I close my eyes, racking my brain for possible slip-ups. I can’t come up with any, but we have been having quite a lot of sex. More so than we have had in a long time.

  My breaths come in gasps, the uncertainty warranting a panic attack. The room begins to spin forcing me to sit on the toilet to prevent myself from fainting.

  Just do the damn test and get this over with. You’ll be fine.

  Releasing a breath, I open my eyes and grab the stick, placing it beneath me as I pee. When I’m done, I put it on the vanity, wash my hands, then flush the toilet.

  Pacing the bathroom, I keep my head down while my heart begins to hammer in my chest like the loudest of drums. I squat on the floor, trying to make everything slow to something my brain and body can cope with.

  I don’t know why I feel something is off.

  Like something in my life is about to change.

  I am not ready for this. Haden should be in here talking me off the ledge except he wouldn’t be talking me off the ledge, he would be standing in front of me, pom poms in hand cheering on a new baby.

  My body is screaming at me, begging me to raise my eyes and meet my destiny.

  One, two, three, eyes open.

  As I raise my head at an agonizingly slow pace, the corners of my eyes are drawn to the vanity, tracing the line in the middle of the stick.

  Correction, lines.

  #BITCH

  Lines.

  My eyes zoom back to the stick. There’s no mistaking the second blue line, it stands out like a pink elephant in a room full of nuns.

  I yank the stick, bringing it close to my sight. It sits in my shaking hands. Two blue lines. With a sudden urge, I grab the box, turning it over to make sure I followed the instructions precisely.

  There’s no mistaking it’s there. Taunting me, laughing in my face about how my life is about to change forever. Weight gain, imbalanced hormones, swelling ankles to name a few.

  Pregnancy is supposed to be a joyous occasion. I’m supposed to feel elated. Motherhood has some great moments, but it is utterly exhausting and giving birth is less appealing.

  I can’t do this again.

  Not now, not when Haden and I are just starting to enjoy Masen becoming more independent, therefore giving us more time with each other. We went straight to having a kid, never experiencing the honeymoon stage many couples enjoy prior to starting a family.

  I’m selfish, wanting more time alone with my husband. Another baby will just get in the way.

  Our business is booming. Haden predicts we will double in the next two years if we work hard and play our cards right. We, being the operative word. I can’t take maternity leave, stay at home and raise another baby. I need to be in the office. My job is my life. I am not cut out to stay home and bake cookies while my husband galivants across the country.

  The timing is all wrong.

  Haden’s voice echoes in the bedroom. Panicked, I wrap the test in toilet paper and place it in the bottom drawer, pushing it to the back beneath some tampons.

  Haden knocks on the bathroom door.

  “Babe, Lex wants to go through some things tomorrow night. He suggests we come over for dinner. You cool with that?”

  My voice is caught up in my throat. I’m not up for anything besides wanting to climb into a dark hole and cry myself to sleep.

  “Um, sure,” I croak, clearing my throat to disguise my fear. “Sounds like a plan.”

  His footsteps fade away, relief washing over me. I turn on the shower, the tap set to cold, and stand beneath the cascade of water trying to wash away tonight’s events. Perhaps I shouldn’t panic. Tests can be wrong. I’m sure I heard a friend of a friend who had positive pregnancy tests only to find out her HCG levels were high because she had a tumor.

  Cancer, I haven’t even thought of that.

  I shake my head, the whirlwind of thoughts causing my body to almost collapse in the shower. With trembling hands, I turn the water off and step out, drying myself off. Brushing my teeth quickly, I change into one of Haden’s boxers and old tee, then climb into bed.

  The panic feels all too familiar, building like an unstoppable snowball in the pit of my stomach except last time, I was pregnant to a man I loathed. Despite that, I was willing to raise my son alone.

  I was naïve to think I could do it on my own. Haden proves to be more than I could have ever imagined. He enriches Masen’s life and gives him the love he deserves. I have no doubt he will do the same for another baby. I just wish for once, it would be all about me.

  And I hate myself for even being jealous.

  This baby has no clue how much it will change our lives.

  It will be only a matter of time.

  For the first night, in a long time, Haden doesn’t touch me. It’s almost as if he can sense the change in my body. He simply kisses me good night then rolls over.

  I wait for Masen to come in, desperate for a distraction, but he never does. Instead, I lay wide awake staring at the ceiling until my lids feel heavy, and sleep becomes imminent.

  I am sitting in Dr. Somersby’s waiting room, tapping my feet impatiently. The click of my patent Louboutins is a welcoming distraction from what started off as a terrible day.

  Everything that can go wrong does go wrong.

  A print publication had an error on the cover, sending Haden into the biggest fit over costs to reproduce. Georgia, one of my best editors, handed in her resignation because her boyfriend proposed last night and wants her to move to France where he is originally from. I don't exactly blame her, the thought alone is romantic. Yet, losing a good employee is disheartening. Not only will she be difficult to replace, our team dynamic will change.

  Our server went down at midday, stopping all productivity. In the kitchen, someone yelled ‘mouse’ before screaming the place down. I later learned that someone was Clint, but only because I managed to peel myself away from the boardroom where I hid in an effort not to encounter the dirty rodent.

  When three o’clock rolled around, I told Haden I needed to run some errands before ducking home to pick up Masen, then head over to Lex and Charlie’s house for dinner. I’m certain he doesn’t hear me, too busy yelling over the phone at our IT Department over the server issues.

  “Mrs. Cooper.”

  Dr. Somersby welcomes me with a smile, ushering me into her office. I take a seat, nervously breathing out as she asks how she can help me today.

  “I think I’m pregnant.”

  “You think you’re pregnant?”

  “Or maybe I have a tumor… I don’t know,” I ramble, terrified.

&nbs
p; “Okay, first things first. Have you taken a home pregnancy test?”

  I nod, scratching my nails along my thighs to stabilize my nerves.

  “And I’m assuming it came back positive?”

  I nod again. Dr. Somersby opens her drawer, removing a specimen cup and placing it directly in front of me.

  “Take this into the bathroom, and we can confirm right now.”

  My hands are shaking while I grab the cup. I head toward the bathroom, closing the door behind me to return moments later.

  Placing on some latex gloves, she pulls a strip out of a packet, dipping it into the urine, then removes it quickly.

  “You’re pregnant all right.” Ripping off her glove, she turns back to face me with a smile. “Okay, you’ll need to do a blood test to determine your due date. Do you remember the first day of your last period?”

  The overwhelming emotions stunt my ability to speak. A force, so great, that I’m unable to control its fierce wave which brutally crashes into me every time I think about having this baby. I’m knocked out cold, senseless, trying to tell myself I just need to get up. Get out of this mess.

  “Um… September the eighth, I think.”

  She spins a cardboard wheel around, then takes down some notes.

  “Makes you about four weeks pregnant. Still early days, so let’s get a blood test done next week.” Her voice carries on, an overwhelming amount of information which is difficult for me to take in. “Have you been taking your prenatal vitamins.”

  “Uh, no. I wasn’t exactly planning for this.”

  Dr. Somersby pauses, her eyes showed a kind of gentle concern. “You do want to go ahead with this pregnancy, don’t you?”

  I sit quietly, careful not to show any emotion. I want to tell her how terrified I am, how the timing is all wrong. I’m desperate to share my anxiety of becoming a mother again, losing my identity, and worrying my marriage will suffer because I won’t be able to manage it all.

  Yet, I fear her judgment. I fear everyone’s judgment.

  Instead, I force a smile. “Of course.”