by L. D. Davis
I rolled my eyes. “The best.”
“So, what did he say?”
I realized we were having an actual conversation and felt some relief. I hadn’t been sure what to expect.
“He said I have some loose screws.”
“And he has only just learned this? I knew it from the first time I met you that you had a few screws loose.”
I threw a potato chip at him. He caught it and ate it with a smirk.
“You’re funny, but I mean there are screws loose in my leg.”
Concern immediately clouded his eyes as he tried to see my leg through the breakfast bar. “You have been limping more. I didn’t want to say so.”
“It’s very painful, but there isn’t too much he can do until after the babies come. In the meantime, he wants me to use that,” I pointed scathingly at the thing in the corner by the door.
Marco turned to look for the object of my hatred. It took him a moment but when he spotted it, he tossed the mail back on the counter and retrieved the awful thing.
“I missed it when I came in the door,” he murmured. Then his eyes narrowed on the walking cane in his hands before shifting to me. “Why aren’t you using it?”
I put our plates on the countertop and turned toward the fridge to get drinks. “I’ll burn it the first chance I get,” I promised.
Marco chuckled, but I heard the disapproval in his voice. “I know your vanity abhors the idea of a cane, but you know you must use it. You don’t want to risk falling and possibly hurting the babies—or injuring yourself further for that matter.”
I put his beer and my soda down with a sigh. “I know. It’s just...I had one before, you know? I didn’t like being perceived as weak.”
His head tilted to one side as he studied the cane and then my face.
“My Nonna had a cane as far back as I can remember. No one ever made the mistake of perceiving her as weak. You do understand that is more your own perception of yourself and not everyone else’s? Besides, if anyone makes any unappreciative comments, you can smack them with it.”
We grinned at each other. I wondered if my smile was making him as fluttery as his smile made me. Not for the first time in the past few weeks, I asked myself why I’d allowed things to escalate as far as they had. It was like I’d fed off our misery.
Marco carried our dinner to the table. In my mind, we would’ve chatted all throughout dinner like that, and maybe laughed, but that wasn’t how it went down. Our conversation dwindled quickly. It was silent between us, even though there was so much to say, especially on my part.
This, I realized, was also a problem I had throughout my marriage with Gavin. Although I didn’t hear it every day, he had told me on more than one occasion he wanted to be with me. We both said “I love you” often, but it was more of a perfunctory statement, rarely in a way that portrayed any depth of emotion. Also, whenever mad or hurt, I’d been quick to throw in the towel or give him the cold shoulder instead of working through whatever the issue was. It was always about what he didn’t say or do for me. Had I ever outright told him that I loved him and wanted our marriage to work? Maybe if I had given him the same affection I’d wanted from him, he would’ve been able to return it easier. Instead, I’d been silent until my affection warped into bitterness.
Beside me was a man who had proclaimed his love for me and my children again and again. He’d made it known repeatedly that he wanted to be with me. As far as both breakups went, Marco had certainly overstepped and misjudged, but he acknowledged that and had been doing everything he could to make things right. I taught my kids about forgiveness but wasn’t leading by example. Forgiving Marco didn’t make me weak. Forgiving Marco didn’t mean I was giving in and sacrificing my own dignity. It meant that despite my hurt feelings and fears, I was willing to let go of my resentment.
It was past the time for me to break the silence I imposed on us, and by doing so, I would also break a cycle I’d been in for too long.
“Marco, I want you to—”
I was cut off by the ringing of my cellphone. Normally, I was glad to talk to my kids, especially considering I wasn’t at home with them and hadn’t seen any of them since morning, but really, they chose the worst possible time to call. I couldn’t just ignore it. So, with a sigh, I got up from the table and went into the living room to answer.
For ten minutes, we chatted with the small demons. When the phone call was over, I had to pee for the thirtieth time. When I came out, Marco was in the bedroom pulling a pair of sweats out of his bureau.
“You can have this room, of course,” he said, giving me a quick glance when I entered. “I will sleep in the kids’ bedroom.”
With my heart at a gallop, I moved deeper into the room. “That won’t be necessary.”
Slowly, his gaze lifted to meet mine. “What?”
I took a deep breath, stood as straight as I could, and spoke clearly. I didn’t want to seem unsure of myself or of him. “Marco, I want you to come home.”
He was quiet for a moment as he searched my eyes for answers. I let him and didn’t look away.
“Why?”
The kids and his sister missed him. He most likely knew that already. From reminders all over the apartment, I surmised he missed them as well. What he didn’t know was how I felt on the matter.
“I love you,” I said honestly. My voice trembled, but I continued to speak clearly, without falter. “I love you very much, and I miss you. Loving you used to scare me and make me say and do crazy things to push you away so I wouldn’t be scared anymore, but now my fear is different. Now I’m afraid to lose you, to have a life where you’re not my other half.”
Tears spilled. I quickly wiped them away but didn’t let them deter me.
“When I’m with you, everything is better. The impossible feels possible. I was so broken when I met you, only hanging on by a thread for my kids.” My voice broke with those last words, admitting something I’d never said out loud. “You didn’t make me want to just continue to hang on, Marco. You made me want to live, and now I don’t want to live without you. So, please. Come home with me tomorrow.”
He stood absolutely still for what seemed like an eternity, just staring at me. He stared at me like I just announced that our babies were going to be born with horns and tails.
“Marco,” I whispered his name on a soft sob, but I didn’t know what else to say.
The pants he’d just pulled out of the drawer dropped to the floor. In two long strides, he was in front of me, his hands on my face, the tip of his nose almost touching mine. One hand reached for my hair and my eyes fluttered close. Reverently, he pushed my hair off my cheek and behind my ear. I felt his fingertips trace my ear before moving down to cup my neck.
“I love you, too, Tesoro. Of course I will come home.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Marco
The past winter had been the coldest I could recall, especially during the nights, with nothing more than my own misery to keep me warm. The weather started to break last week. Bright sunshine, melting snow, and above average temperatures, but the chill in my bones had not abated. Tonight, with Lydia’s head on my shoulder, our fingers entwined, our legs tangled, and her baby bump against my side, I was warm for the first time in months.
When I received her text message earlier, I had been reluctant to agree to dinner. I’d wanted to see her but feared what she would say. We did not have an ideal situation, but I’d dreaded the possibility Lydia would want to give it all up, take the children and move back to Ohio, or perhaps down to Philadelphia with her sister. The only thing that could’ve been worse was if she had started to date someone else. Plenty of men would date a single mother pregnant with another man’s child, and plenty more would be ready and willing to engage in a sexual relationship with her.
My fear of the unknown was not the only reason I’d been hesitant to respond. Simply put, I was mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. I hadn’t felt confident that I cou
ld remain civil if things grew heated between us and worried I would say another hurtful thing to further alienate her. Honestly, I also worried that something she might say would further alienate me.
When I walked through the door and saw her smiling face, I was unable to look away. For the first time in a long while, the walls she had erected around herself were down, and not because I had to bully my way through them. I could see the resolve in her eyes, hear it in her voice when she asked me to come home. One thing she had not been was vulnerable. Nervous, yes, but prepared to accept whatever response I gave her.
“I wasn’t sure you’d say yes,” Lydia confessed into the dark room.
“I wasn’t sure either,” I admitted.
She was silent for a moment before speaking very softly. “How unsure were you?”
“Very. At least, one and a half percent. I had to think about it for a whole two seconds.”
She released my hand and smacked my chest as I chuckled.
“That’s not funny, Marco. What if you would’ve said no?”
I kissed the top of her head and moved my hand to her belly. “That was not going to happen.”
“You only want me because I’m an incubator for your babies. Once they’re born and weaned, you’ll be done with me.”
I pulled her closer and rubbed her shoulder. “No, Tesoro. I will get at least one more child out of you before I get rid of you.”
“Fuck you,” she growled, and tried to roll away from me.
Laughing, I moved quicker. I allowed her to roll onto her back, but I quickly repositioned myself partially over her, careful not to put any pressure on her belly with my body.
“Did you think I gave up on you that easily?”
She stared up at me with a mix of sadness and relief. “I thought you did.”
“I was frustrated with you, and I was sick of tip-toeing on eggshells just so some civility remained between us.”
“And then you left.”
“We both needed some space.”
The back of her hand brushed across my cheek.
“I don’t want any more space.”
I gazed intently into her eyes, suddenly anxious. Lydia only came to me after she felt my absence. It made me think about what would have happened had I stayed at the cabin as usual.
Her brow furrowed when she saw my expression. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Do you only want me back because you thought you couldn’t have me?” I dared to ask.
Her soft hands cupped my face. I closed my eyes at her touch, relishing in it, but also afraid to look at her as she answered.
“Look at me.” When I opened my eyes, I found her stare intense. “I have always wanted you. I wanted you when I first met you. I wanted you every time I rejected you and told you to go away. I wanted you when we were in Italy, and I wanted you when I left. When I told you there was nothing between us, I wanted you then, too. I have wanted you all these months, even when my heart felt broken, even when wanting you hurt.”
The whole time she spoke, her eyes brimmed with tears, and now they slipped down the sides of her face and clung to her lashes.
“I don’t want to be that way, Marco. I don’t want to be that disenchanted hard ass that doesn’t believe in romance, love, and happy endings. I wasn’t always like that—like this. I was once that woman you described, the one you saw in pictures and videos before we met. She was fun, she was loving, and soft, but strong.”
“She was a pot head,” I added with a small smile, making her laugh. “Stop apologizing for who you are, Lydia. We all have our faults, but I love you and every one of yours.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Even though I wrecked that room at your parents’ and tried to kill you with a cricket bat?”
“Can I be perfectly honest with you, Tesoro? That was the hottest thing ever. Every time I think about you swinging that bat and smashing everything in sight, I get hard.”
Her eyes widened, and then she let out a bark of laughter. “You do not!”
I pressed my erection against her thigh. Her reaction was immediate. The laughter cut off abruptly, her wet eyes glazed, and her tongue swept across her lips as if she were hungry for me. I dropped a quick kiss on that mouth and gave her a devilish grin.
“I read in a book that a woman’s libido is heightened around this time in pregnancy. There is increased blood flow to the breasts…” I held myself up on one arm and traced the outline of a perky nipple through her shirt. “And increased blood flow and lubrication to the genitals.” I carefully parted her thighs with my knee and pressed it against her. To my eternal delight, she automatically wiggled her hips, grinding herself against my knee.
“Yes,” Lydia gasped. “Yes, all of that is true. Very true.”
“Hmm. I don’t know,” I teased, withdrawing my knee.
With a cute growl, Lydia gripped my face again, and kissed me. Her tongue parted my lips, making me groan. Even though it was our first real kiss since our breakup, it was not slow and easy. We did not take the time to become reacquainted. Everything about the kiss was frenzied, hard, possessive, and lustful. She gave me little nips with her teeth on my lips and tongue, and even pulled me down more so she could bite my earlobe. I laughed at her eagerness, and because it tickled.
“You are about to eat me alive,” I managed to say between kisses.
When a moment later my cell phone rang from the other room, I knew I should answer it. I was expecting an important call from the west coast, but the phone went ignored as I continued to kiss the woman I loved. When it rang a second time about two minutes later, I knew I couldn’t ignore it again.
Lydia looked frustrated when I pulled back and started to stand up. “I have to answer that, sweetheart. Give me a few minutes.”
Ten minutes later I was still on the phone, pacing the living room. Lydia appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, wearing only her yellow panties with white flowers printed on them. I stopped to gawk at her, barely listening to the woman on the line. With the pregnancy, Lydia’s body had changed since we’d last been together. Her breasts were bigger, much bigger than I’d expected, and the rosy tips hard. There was her baby belly, of course, smooth and round. Her waist had filled in, her hips had expanded, and even her thighs looked fuller. Before this point, I had not known why some men found pregnancy sexy. Before, I thought it a strange and disturbing concept. Now I understood and could not take my eyes from her.
After another minute, she came into the living room. I really wanted her off that leg, but there was no use arguing with her about it. Besides, all she did was take a seat on the armchair. I moved close to her and stroked her hair. It was something I had been wanting to do for months. She looked up at me, and one side of her mouth kicked up. I had to hold back a gasp of surprise and pleasure when I felt her hand squeeze me through my sweatpants.
At that point, I should have backed away, but instead, I stayed on the phone, talking business, as my beautiful redhead hooked her fingers in my sweats and began to pull them down. My erection was set free, only a few inches from her lips. I watched, fascinated and breath held as she parted her lips, leaned forward, and sucked me into her hot mouth. I was sure I made a noise, a whimper, and a plea, because although my associate on the phone kept talking, Lydia’s eyes crinkled at the sides as she tried to smile around a full mouth.
It was no longer possible for me to pretend while on the phone. I had one hand in her hair as I slowly pumped my hips. It had been so long since I’d felt any part of her in this way, I had to grit my teeth and hold still for a few seconds to stop myself from having an orgasm too quickly.
“I’m sorry, Michelle,” I said quickly into the phone, interrupting the woman. “My wife is pregnant with twins, and she needs me. Can we pick this up tomorrow afternoon?”
“Oh! Of course. I hope all is well. Shoot me a text or email tomorrow.”
“Thank you. Goodbye.” I hung up before she could respond and tossed the phone o
n the couch. I stroked Lydia’s cheek as she stared up at me. “So impatient. Well, so am I, Tesoro.”
I pulled out of her mouth, regretfully, and stood her up. In a heartbeat, I had her panties off. In another heartbeat, I had her in my arms, and in a matter of seconds, she was on her back on the couch, and I was inside her. It felt so good, it was almost painful. She was warm, tight, and wet. I had never felt her so wet before. There was no comparison to be had between reading about the changes a woman’s body goes through during pregnancy and experiencing it for myself.
“Yes,” Lydia whimpered, gripping my ass in her hands.
I groaned again and began to slowly move, trying to make sure I didn’t go too deep, or too hard.
“Faster,” she moaned. “Harder.”
“I don’t want to hurt you or the babies.” I grunted, struggling not to do as she asked.
“You won’t.”
“How do you know?”
Her eyes rolled. “This isn’t my first pregnancy, Marco. Besides, haven’t you ever seen pregnancy porn?”
“I do not want to think of another naked pregnant woman, especially while I am inside my own naked pregnant woman, Lydia.”
I started to have second thoughts. We’d just made up, and yet there was still so much we needed to talk about and have out in the open. I was not sure if having sex so soon was a good idea, but her next words, purred like a big cat, erased any thoughts of waiting.
“Scopami, Marcello. Scopami.”
Hearing her beg me to fuck her in Italian took away the last of my resistance. I eased out until only the tip of me remained in her, and then I drove my hips forward hard and fast, just like she wanted, like I wanted. For a long time, nothing else mattered but our mutual pleasure.
Much later, when we were back in the bedroom, I rubbed her belly, amazed by how hard and round it was, and in awe by the fact that I had two children growing inside there. That was all I wanted for so long, just to put my hand on her growing stomach.
“Marco?” She was hoarse from being tired, and of course from shouting my name repeatedly over a two-hour period.
