by Lori L. Otto
“Just don’t say anything.” I turn the phone off and shove it in my pocket. Emi looks at me, concerned, but just seeing her smile makes me forget everything else. She is all that matters. I pour another glass of champagne for me and top off her glass. After another drink, I stand in front of her. She moves her knees apart, allowing me to stand in between her legs as she talks to her sister. I slide her body into mine, her dress now hiked up to reveal the slightly tanned skin of her thighs.
My hands travel up her legs slowly, cautiously, my eyes never leaving hers. I push up against her gently, pulling her closer. The height of the island couldn’t have been more perfect.
She struggles to pull the dress down to cover her skin and smiles. I shake my head, my hands thwarting her efforts. As she listens to the person on the other end of the phone, my lips are drawn to hers.
“Jen, I need to go,” she says, taking a breath. “Bye.” She puts the phone down quickly and holds my face to hers, kissing me deeply. “We’re getting married,” she tells me.
“Yes, we are... and I can’t wait.”
“Okay, time’s up,” Emi says. “Let me do something nice for you.” I help her off the kitchen island, and she stands in front of me, holding both of my hands in hers, staring up at me. “What would you like?”
“I have what I want now, Emi,” I tell her. “You’re all I need.”
“There has to be something else,” she says.
“Of course, I’d like to make love to you.”
“You would?” she asks coyly.
“I definitely would.” She guides me to her bed and motions for me to sit down. Bending over to kiss me, she loosens the tie and takes it off completely, examining it for a second before folding it and putting it on the nightstand.
She kneels down in front of me and ceremoniously unbuttons my shirt, then untucks it. She removes my belt and sets it on the floor.
“Move back,” she instructs me. I arrange myself on the billowing pillows and watch her every move. Standing up next to the bed, she puts her right foot on the edge and unbuckles her heel, removing her shoe. I run my hand up her calf muscle. She does the same with her left foot. “Now stay here,” she orders me, walking to her dresser and taking something out of the top drawer. “I’ll be right back.”
While she’s gone, I put my watch, phone and wallet on her night stand, crossing my ankles as I wonder what she is plotting. After a few minutes, the iPod starts playing her playlist from earlier, and as I look in the direction of her guest room, I catch sight of the most beautiful woman in the world: my fiancée... and soon she will be my wife. I’m sure she can hear my slow intake of breath as I drink her in with my eyes. I am not modest with my stare, but neither is she with her choice of clothing.
Her pale skin blushes against the light blue lace of her lingerie. The top has small sleeves that almost fall off her shoulders. It comes together at the front in a bow between her breasts, which are covered by the sheer fabric. The material hangs open loosely over her stomach, her firm stomach begging to be touched. A string bikini peeks out below the top. I hold my hand out to her, beckoning her to me. She smiles and takes my hand, crawling on the bed and kneeling over me.
“My god, Em, you are a vision tonight.” I hold the material of the lingerie in my hands.
“Thank you,” she says, her voice genuine. “This color reminded me of your eyes.”
“Really? That outfit just reminds me of what I’d like to do to you...” She bites her bottom lip and bows her head bashfully. I lean up so I can kiss her, freeing her lip from her teeth.
“Not yet,” she says as she looks into my eyes.
“No?” I tuck her hair behind her ears to have a better look.
She nods her head, pushing my dress shirt from my shoulders. “It’s a foregone conclusion that we will be making love tonight. Now, what would you really like?”
“That’s all,” I tell her, shaking my head. I would never ask her... is she suggesting that?
“Really?” she asks as she pulls my undershirt over my head. I take the shirt from her and throw it to the end of the bed, studying her eyes intently as I nod. She pushes me back into the pillows, then slowly moves back until her knees are even with mine and begins to pull my slacks down my legs. I adjust my body to help her, leaning up on my elbows to watch her.
“Did you have something else in mind?” I ask, hopeful, but not too eager. She stands back off the bed to remove my pants entirely, then gets back on the bed on her hands and knees. Nodding her head, she crawls up my body– painfully slowly and sensually– until her lips press against mine, desperate, taking. I pull her hair lightly as she does the same to mine, leaning over me on her elbows. My hands move all the way down her back as I try to press her body against mine. She doesn’t comply. “What?” I ask between kisses before she moves her lips to my jaw, then to my neck, not answering me. You’ve got to be kidding me.
Her body moves with her lips as she begins to kiss my chest... stomach... lower... abs... She grips the waistband of my briefs and pulls them down a few inches, covering the newly exposed skin with soft, fluttering kisses, her attention focused on each movement. I swallow hard as my breathing quickens in anticipation. She pulls the underwear down my legs and sets them on my shirt, finally looking into my eyes through her own eyelashes, blinking innocently. A sweet smile spreads across her face as I stare at her in awe.
“Now,” she says again softly. “Are you going to tell me what you’d like?”
“Ummm...” I stammer, unable to answer before she leans over me and brushes her lips against me lightly. I feel her tongue next and grip the bed linens rigidly. I quickly inhale, overwhelmed by her touch, blurting out my response in one breath. “Emi, if you find that demeaning, you don’t–”
“Demeaning?” she says, not looking up and not moving her lips far enough away to keep the vibrations from shooting wild impulses throughout my entire body.
“Oh, god,” I exhale.
She pulls her lips away briefly to respond, but her hands glide unhurriedly over my lower abdomen. “What’s demeaning about this? About a woman wanting to drive her fiancé crazy with desire for her?”
“Nothing,” I answer quickly when our eyes meet. “Nothing at all.”
“I like this,” she declares. “In fact, I love this. I love that I do this to you.” She touches me faintly– god, more, please!– shifting her focus away from my gaze once more.
“I love you.” I release the sheets from my hand and run my fingers through her soft hair.
“I know you do,” she replies playfully. “It’s quite obvious.”
CHAPTER 8
“She’s in labor!” Emi yells happily through the phone. “Chris just called me. They’re at Memorial.”
“Would you like for me to come get you?”
“No,” she says, “I’m in a cab already. Can you meet us at the hospital?”
“Of course. I’ll be right there.”
“Hey,” she adds.
“Yes?”
“Can you stop and get some flowers for her?”
“Sure.”
“Love you,” she tells me.
“Love you, too.”
After stopping by the florist, I quickly drive to the hospital. The nurses in the labor and delivery wing direct me to Anna’s room. The door is closed, and Jen, Clara, Anna’s mother and father, and all of Emi’s parents are waiting outside.
“Has anyone seen Em?” I ask, a bit concerned, knowing she had plenty of time to get to the hospital.
“She’s in the room with them. Anna wanted her there.”
“Wow,” I smile, greeting all of her family members with handshakes, hugs or kisses. “That’s... surprising...”
“Emi was on top of the world,” Jen says.
“Do they know how long it will be?” I ask.
“She’s pushing... any time now,” Emi’s mother answers.
“Clara, how are you?” I ask Emi’s niece.
“G
ood,” she says, stretching her arms out for a hug.
“Are you excited to meet your cousin?”
“Yes!” she exclaims. “I can’t wait to meet Eli!”
“She is full of energy,” Jen says. Clara runs around the waiting area while the rest of us find seats and drink coffee. The families are nervous and anxious. “So, it’s been two months, Jack,” Jen smiles. “When are you two going to set a date?”
“We’re working on it,” I assure her... assure myself...
Eventually, the door opens and the doctor announces that it’s a healthy baby boy, and that everyone is doing fine. He tells us that they’ll be taking the baby down to the nursery soon so everyone can see him. A few minutes after he goes back into the room, Emi comes out, tears streaming down her face.
“What’s wrong, baby?” her father asks. She walks past him, her eyes locked with mine, and nearly collapses in my arms.
“Oh, Em,” I tell her, hugging her strongly as she seems to hold onto me for dear life. She sniffles softly in my shirt. I tilt her head up by her chin and smile, kissing her. “It’s okay,” I whisper, wiping away tears.
“I didn’t know that would be so hard,” she says.
“But was it amazing?” I ask, leading her to the corner of the room.
“It was,” she smiles. “But to see Chris... and to think you’ll never get to see that.” She cries harder still.
“Shhhh,” I tell her. “Emi, it’s okay, sweetie. I’m okay with that. Stop crying. Stop being sad. This is a happy day, remember? Eli’s here. Your nephew is here and healthy... our godson.”
She begins to calm down again as her mom and dad stand on either side of her, rubbing her arms.
“I’m okay,” she says, breathing deeply. “He’s so cute.”
“Who does he look like?” her father asks.
“He has Anna’s skin tone and hair. Chris’s nose, I think. He’s adorable.”
A few minutes later, the doctor invites the parents in to see Anna and Chris. Shortly after, a nurse comes and lets us know that Eli is in the nursery. While her family takes turns going to see the baby, I take Emi to the cafeteria and get her a latte.
“What made you decide to go in there with Anna and Chris?” I ask.
“She asked if I wanted to be in there... so I could experience it with them... I was just so excited, I didn’t even think. I was fine until I saw Chris crying.” She swallows hard. “The way he looked at Eli... just pure awe and adoration. It was beautiful... and I thought about you... and then it hit me.”
“Will it make you feel any better if I tell you I was in the room with Kelly when Jacqueline was born?”
“Really?”
“Yeah, Tom was on a business trip. Jackie came about two weeks early, and Kelly didn’t want to do it alone. I was on standby for all the births... the back-up plan. But Jackie’s is the only one Tom missed.”
“Was that weird?”
“No,” I laugh. “I stood away from the action and just coached Kelly through the breathing and pushing. And she nearly broke my hand, but that was fine. I did get to cut the cord, though.”
“You did?”
“I did. That was pretty amazing.”
“Still...” she says, sipping her drink.
“Still nothing,” I say. “We’ll have so many other moments to share, Em. And I remember how much pain Kelly was in. The thought of seeing you like that... well, that’s one thing I won’t really miss.
“Listen,” I tell her. “Steven invited us out to talk to Renee. She works with some placement agencies and deals with pregnant teens all the time. I thought maybe you and I could take a trip down to Texas just to talk to her about options.
“Of course, we don’t need to do anything now. Just figure out what the processes involved are. Just so we’re better informed and kind of know where we need to start... how long it might take... those sort of things.
“I booked a flight for early September.”
She doesn’t respond. “Emi?”
“I’m going to go see Eli,” she says as she stands and walks away from me. I stare after her for a few seconds, confused, but eventually follow her to meet our godson.
When we get home, Emi heads straight to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. She hadn’t spoken to me since we left the hospital, just stared out the window, her eyes glazed over and seemingly focused on nothing in particular.
“Did I say something?” I ask for the third time.
She doesn’t seem angry... just distant. More distant than I’ve ever seen her. Her line of sight looks beyond me as I sit on a barstool in the kitchen.
She hops up onto the counter across from me and rocks back and forth, her arms crossed. “I’m not going to Texas,” she says, still avoiding my curious stare.
“Is that what this is about?”
“Yes, that’s what this is about.”
“Okay,” I start cautiously. “Can we talk about it?”
“Yes, Jack, and thank you for asking me.” Her response drips with sarcasm, and she follows it with a long sip of wine.
“What’s the matter? I thought you’d be happy about this...”
“Why?” she whispers. “I thought we agreed that children... just weren’t an option.”
“No,” I tell her, taken aback. “We never agreed to that.”
“In Tenerife,” she reminds me. “You said I was enough.” She swallows hard. “For you.”
“Of course you are, Emi, but that doesn’t mean I’m giving up hope of raising a family with you.”
“You need to.”
“What?”
“If you want to be with me, you need to.” My heart stops beating. My breath, gone. I open my mouth, hoping some words will come out, but none can find their way. “We’re not going to be parents,” she says.
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Yes, we are,” I argue, raising my voice. “I’m not having this argument with you.” I walk out of the kitchen and upstairs to the bedroom to change clothes.
“You wanted to talk about this,” she says, following me into the closet. “So let’s talk about it.”
“I don’t want to talk to you when you’re not making any sense, Emi. What you’re saying is ludicrous.”
“Ludicrous, huh?”
“Yeah, Emi, it’s complete nonsense. We will have kids if we want kids, and last time I checked, we were both on the same page with this.”
She shakes her head slowly at me. “No, we’re not.”
I pull on a pair of sweatpants and stand up straight, unmoving, staring into her sad eyes, completely bewildered. My heart is about to pound out of my chest.
“Who said I wanted to go to Texas?”
“I thought we wanted to check out our options.”
“You!” she yells. “You wanted to check out our options!”
“Why are you saying that?” I say softly, controlling the anger in my voice as best as I can.
“I never said I wanted to adopt. I’ve been thinking about it, Jack...” She picks at her fingernails, avoiding me. “I don’t think–”
“God, don’t do this to me, Emi. You can’t do this to me.” After putting on my running shoes, I walk briskly out of the closet, but she pulls me back in.
“What exactly am I doing to you?” she asks. “I can’t have kids. This news is not new to you.”
“We can’t conceive children, Emi, but we can still have them.”
“We can’t,” she hisses at me. “And what gives you the right to plan my life?”
“Wow... I’m not planning your life, Emi, I’m doing what we talked about doing!” I shake loose of her and start to go back downstairs to escape the conversation.
“Don’t walk away from me!” she yells from the top of the stairs. I turn around, holding on to the railing to steady myself. “You’re making decisions about what I want without consulting me! How is that not planning my life? How is that not trying to control me?”
“Are you kiddin
g me? I’m controlling? I waited for four months for you to tell me when you were ready to commit to me. Four months! What man in their right mind would do that for any woman? My entire future hung in the balance, waiting for you to make the decision to move forward,” I state furiously.
“That was a decision we made together. You agreed to that.”
“I agreed to it because it was a condition I had to follow if I wanted to be with you. Period.”
“Still,” she says. “I gave you a choice. I even told you that you could date other women. You weren’t trapped. And even then, once we decided to hang out more, you still made all the decisions... where we went, what we did... I didn’t have a choice back then.”
“You never acted like you wanted a choice. I was just trying to pull you out of that dark place you had been living in... I just wanted to distract you from that, to show you that your life could be better, even good, with me. I would have given you options if I had known you wanted them.”
“I shouldn’t have had to say anything,” she says.
“My god,” I sigh. “This all happened eight months ago, Emi!”
“No, it continues to happen to this day. We do everything you want, the way you want it. You meticulously planned both trips we’ve been on this year... you always decide on our dates–”
“You’ve never protested anything! How can you be mad at me for things I never knew I was doing wrong? When I met you, Emi, you were in a very bad place. You didn’t have an opinion on anything. You could barely take care of yourself. All I’ve ever tried to do is take care of you, the best way I’ve known how. I have opinions when you don’t. I make decisions when you can’t... or won’t. Don’t hold that against me.”
“I’m not that girl anymore,” she says. “I have an opinion now. And I’m trying to tell you what it is. And instead of listening to me and hearing me out, you’re shutting me down and just making assumptions about what I want–”
“You wanted this!”
“No, you wanted this! I never said I wanted this!”
“Emi, you did, we both want children. We’ve talked about this.”
