by Lulu Pratt
“Carrie, is everything okay?” I don’t respond. “Carrie?” I stay silent.
I think for a moment that it has worked and that he has left. But the covers suddenly fly off me. I open my eyes, and he’s standing over me. He doesn’t look angry, but concerned. Worried even. My heart aches. I hate making him upset. Especially over something that he has no control.
“Carrie, seriously. We need to talk. Are you okay? Please, let me know that at least.”
I sigh, sitting up. “I’m fine.” It’s weak and mumbled. I don’t look him.
“No, you’re not,” he says. He sits on the bed by my side and reaches out, rubbing my knee. “Seriously, I’m worried, Carrie. Can you please tell me what is wrong?”
It’s not just about what he said, bringing up Lyndsey. As much as that hurts, the real reason I don’t want to talk about it is when I do, I will have to admit something that I have been hiding for a while now. That I love Blake.
If I do tell him, I will need to divulge what my original plan was, and how I have changed my mind. And then, I will need to tell him why I changed my mind. Not only will it force me to open up in a way I never have before, but it will also provide him with a perfect excuse to not return my love.
If he kicks me out of the house after tonight, there is no way I can hold it against him.
“Okay,” I sigh, sitting up. “I’ll tell you, but please let me finish, okay? And when I say what I have to say, please think about the baby and what everything we have done together means.”
“Okay,” he says. His hand rubs my thigh again, and I can see the concern in his face. I wonder how long until that turns to anger.
I take a deep breath and the words spill out. “Lyndsey, your ex-girlfriend, is my sister by adoption. She is the closest thing that I have ever had to family, and when she died, it hurt me in a way that you probably can’t even imagine. It hurt me so much that all I have wanted to do since is honor her life in any way that I knew how.”
His face drops as the realization of what I am saying dawns on him.
I continue. “When you two were dating in high school, I know that you got her pregnant, and I also know that you dumped her which caused her to have a miscarriage, which she dealt with by drinking and taking drugs — please, let me finish,” I hurry when he opens his mouth to speak.
“She was so upset. I had never seen her like that. It made me hate you, even though I didn’t know you. I didn’t realize who you were until after you asked me to have your baby. When I found out, I was upset. You have to remember that I loved my sister, and I would have done anything for her. Anyway, I realized that I could make you pay for what you did to her.”
“What are you saying, Carrie? How were you going to make me pay?”
“I was going to have the baby. I was going to take the money and the baby, and then leave. I was going to bring your child into the world, and then deny you of it, the same way you denied my sister.”
“That’s not true!” Blake suddenly stands. “I never did that.”
“Please!” I yell. “I changed my mind. I’m not going to do it anymore! I can’t. Not to you!”
“You were going to take my child from me?” He asks. “You were going to leave?”
“I was,” I say, and I feel the tears starting to come again. “But not anymore. I could never do something like that. Not to you.”
Blake sits back down. He doesn’t take my hand this time or touch me at all. Instead, he looks at me, and I can see he is angry and hurt.
“I’m going to ask you something, Carrie. Did you ever see any proof of the pregnancy? Did Lyndsey ever show you anything at all to confirm it?”
“What? No.”
“She lied to you, Carrie. She was never pregnant, and she broke up with me when I said that she was spiraling out of control with too much drinking and drugs. I don’t know why she lied, but she did.”
“No, she couldn’t have. She wouldn’t have.”
“She did.”
I look into his eyes, trying to see if he is lying, trying to see if there is any deceit behind them. There isn’t. He is telling the truth. For some reason that I can’t understand, my sister lied to me. She was never pregnant and she dumped him. And I was going to hurt the man I love because of it.
I feel sick. I feel wrong. I feel like nothing I have ever felt before.
“And you were going to run?” He asks. His voice quakes and I can hear the struggle in his words. “You were going to leave?”
“But I changed my mind,” I say quickly. I reach for his hands, and he pulls them away. “I could never do that to you now.”
I sit there looking at him, I swallow and say, “I love you, Blake.”
I have thought about telling him that I love him so many times. And every time that I do, his reaction is the same. In my imagination, he smiles, tells me he loves me too, and we hug and kiss. I never imagined the reaction that he gives me now.
He looks at me, pain stricken across his face. He looks at me as if he is seeing a stranger. As if he has no idea who I am or what I have just said.
“Carrie, I think you should stay in the guest room tonight. And I think you should stay there until the baby is born.” He stands and leaves the room. He doesn’t look at me, not once.
I stare at the doorway, as if expecting him to come back in and tell me that it’s a joke and that he loves me too. But he doesn’t. The doorway remains empty. I slowly get to my feet, and step by step, I make my way to the door.
I walk from the bedroom to the hallway, looking over my shoulder as I do. I’m not only leaving the room, but leaving Blake. He has all but told me that he doesn’t love me, not the way I love him. It’s over.
Our relationship is simply a legal contract of a surrogate pregnancy.
Chapter 45
BLAKE
I call Ben as soon as I wake up on Saturday. Well, wake up is a relative term. I have never had such a bad night’s sleep. As the sun hits my face and my eyes shoot open, I realize that I may have gotten, at most, two hours of actual sleep.
I have no idea what to do about Carrie. On the one hand, I love her, but on the other, she lied to me and betrayed me. I am at a loss, and that was what I spent the entire night thinking about.
She is in the guest room, and all I want to do is go and talk to her, but I have no idea what I should say. That is why I am calling Ben. I need someone to talk to. Maybe if I can get this mess of swirling thoughts out of my head and in the open, I can start making sense of how I feel. Maybe I can figure out what the hell I’m going to do.
Ben is a father, so he is usually up at the crack of dawn. He answers the phone in his usual cheery manner, and I tell him to meet me at the bar. I don’t ask. I tell. My voice is hard and serious, and Ben has known me for long enough to know not to argue. He tells me he will be there when it opens later this morning.
***
I walk into the bar and spot Ben straight away. It isn’t hard. He is the only other person in there. Seeing me, he waves me over. There are already two beers in front of him. It’s classic Ben. It makes me realize how lucky I am to have a friend like him in my life.
“You look like shit,” he says as I sit down. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, I feel like shit, so it’s appropriate,” I say. I take the beer and down half of it in one go. The second half disappears as I take my second mouthful. “One more,” I say to the bartender.
“Okay, obviously something is troubling you,” Ben says. “Tell Uncle Ben what it is.”
So, I do. I tell him everything. I speak for a good twenty minutes, telling him all about Carrie. And not just what happened last night, but what led up to that. I tell him about how we met and the proposal. I tell him about the payment plan, and how I have fallen in love with her. And of course, I tell him about Lyndsey, and then Carrie’s plan to take my baby and run.
“Well, that’s a story,” Ben says as I finish. “You could make a movie out of that. Don’t you run a
movie-making company?”
“Funny,” I say into my beer.
“So, what’s the problem?”
I am looking down at my beer, and as I hear his question, I slowly turn to face him. He must be joking. But his expression is serious. As if he truly doesn’t know what the problem is.
“Are you kidding?” I ask. “Were you not just listening?”
“I was. But unlike you, my friend, I saw the whole picture. The forest, not the trees, you might say. I can see things objectively. I can cancel out all the noise, color and drama, and focus on what is important.”
“Which is?”
“That you two love each other. You even said that she told you she loves you, right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“And you just told me that you love her, right?”
“Yeah, but—”
“So, what’s the problem?” He asks, throwing his arms in the air as if trying to exaggerate the point.
“She lied to me. She was going to steal my baby. She was going to use me for my money.”
“Was… is the issue still there. Not anymore. And besides, in Carrie’s defense, she did have some shady intel on you that she thought was real. Can you blame her for being pissed? Also, keep in mind, she thought you were a monster to her sister, and she forgave you anyway. She fell in love with you, regardless of what she mistakenly thought you did. If that isn’t true love, I don’t know what is.”
“I guess so,” I say, still unsure.
“And take it from a man who knows personally. Love is tough to come by. Few find it, and many who do usually fuck it up without realizing. They then spend the rest of their life wondering why they are alone. Don’t be that guy.”
“So, you think I should forgive Carrie?” I ask.
Ben is making some good points. And the more he speaks, the more I realize that I didn’t come here to complain, but to have my love confirmed. I do love Carrie. I just needed to see it.
“Of course, you should forgive her. And let’s be honest, you already have.” He winks at me. “But to be clear, I think you two are a little fucked up. You should probably sit down and have a normal conversation about all of this. But we both know this isn’t the end.”
I look at my friend with a newfound sense of respect. He has told me exactly what I need to hear to put things in perspective. His advice just kept me from making the biggest mistake of my life.
I can’t make Carrie leave. I love her, and if I push her away, I would regret it for the rest of my life. And I’ve been focusing on the wrong parts of Carrie’s confessions to me. She told me she loves me. I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind to hear it.
Chapter 46
CARRIE
I love Blake, and he doesn’t love me. That’s all I can think about. My head, shoved into my pillow to soak up tears as they fall, is clouded with these terrible thoughts.
I have been crying all night, and now, all morning. I can’t stop. Not only did I sleep in the spare room last night, but I will have to sleep here until the baby is born. Maybe I should just go home? But if I do that, then I won’t be near Blake, and I can’t pull myself away. I love him too much.
I should have told him everything when I first found out. I should have asked him about my sister and the pregnancy and let him explain his side of the story. If I did, then I would have learned that she was never pregnant, that everything I thought about him was wrong. If I had, I would be in his bed right now, wrapped in his arms.
I think I hear a knock at the door, but I decide that I am just imagining it. Blake would not be coming to talk to me. Odds are, he will avoid me for the rest of the pregnancy and then kick me out the moment the baby is born.
There’s another knock. It’s louder this time.
“Yes?” I call. Perhaps it is Christina coming in to ask me to leave. I do my best to hide the sound of crying as I pull my face from the pillow.
“Carrie, it’s me. Can I come in?” It’s Blake.
I sit up quickly and do the best I can to wipe away my tears and make it look as if I haven’t spent the last twelve hours bawling out my eyes.
“Sure,” I call back. “Come in.”
He opens the door and walks inside. He looks at me, and I can see the pain on his face. It makes my heart skip a little, the idea that this hasn’t been as easy for him as I thought. Clearly, he too has been hurting.
“How are you?” He asks, his voice soft. He walks further into the room and hovers by the end of my bed.
“Miserable,” I say. “How about you?”
“Yeah, I’ve been better.”
“Me too,” I say as I force a smile. “A lot better.”
“Carrie, may I sit down?” He asks.
“Of course.”
He sits down on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance. “I’m sorry. I am. I should never have reacted like that last night, and I should have never made you leave the room. And I definitely shouldn’t have implied that you and I were over.”
“You’re sorry?” I ask, unable to hide my surprise. “I’m the one who should be saying sorry. I’m the one who lied and meant to hurt you.”
“Hey,” he says, and as he does, he puts his hand on my knee. “Don’t, okay. You had your reasons for doing that. And talking about it now isn’t going to change that. But you also said, if I remember correctly, that you changed your mind?”
“I did! I have!” I exclaim. “Seriously. You have no idea how stupid I feel for even thinking of doing that.”
“Hey. What did I just say?” He smiles at me. It’s a warm smile, and I can feel it radiate through my entire body. It gives me energy and life. “We don’t need to talk about it anymore. It’s not important. The only thing that is important is that I love you.”
“You love me?” I ask. I heard the words, but I am scared that I misunderstood. Or that it is a lie, aimed at hurting me.
“Yes, I love you.”
“I love you, too,” I say, resting my hand on top of his own.
For a second, the two of us stare at one another. I look into his eyes, and he into mine. I feel him inside of me. I can feel his love enveloping me.
He leans forward. I lean in too and kiss him. It’s a kiss like I have never felt. We have kissed a thousand times. We have had sex almost as many times. We have even made love before. But somehow, this kiss is different.
It’s raw and full of fire. It is both of us saying that we are sorry and both of us accepting that apology.
We kiss and kiss. His hands wrap around my waist and pull me in closer. I shuffle in and wrap my legs around him, straddling him. I press my breasts against his chest and feel his heart beat a million times a minute. I feel his warm breath on me as he kissed down my neck, licks my ear and nibbles me.
His cock stirs beneath me, pressing up between my legs. I move my hips forward and back, rubbing myself on it. It shakes and pulsates with each of my movements.
Raising my hands in the air, I allow for him to remove my shirt. I’m in my pajamas, so I don’t have a bra on. He buries his head in my breasts. He licks my right nipple before sucking the tight bud into his mouth. I undo his shirt and return the favor to him. His right nipple hardens in my mouth. His left stiffens as I pinch it.
His hands are still wrapped around my ass, and he begins to help me grind. Back and forth, I rub myself on him. His dick is so hard. It wants to be free. I move my hand down to his cock and give it a squeeze through his khakis. I unfasten them, and his cock bursts forth.
My hand wraps around the head, stroking it. He groans as I do. I lick my hand and wrap it around his shaft. Up and down, I move my hand. Up and down. He falls onto his back, and I remove his pants. I move both my hands around his thick length. I stroke him. I rub his balls and play with his shaft.
He suddenly sits up, lifts me into the air and lays me down. I raise my ass and allow for him to remove my pajama pants and panties. He takes both my legs and rests them on his shoulders. My breathing increases as I
brace myself for what is about to come.
Soft kisses cascade their way down my thighs. They’re wet and give me goosebumps. I shudder with each one, and my body shakes as his lips get closer and closer to my aching core. He pauses just above it. I can feel the hot air dancing off it.
He looks up at me. Our eyes meet. He smiles, and I return it. And he goes down on me.
I moan as his tongue pushes between my lips. I groan as he licks inside of me. I scream as his lips wrap around my clit and sucks. It feels incredible. He sucks and licks, and I scream and moan. I run my hands through his hair, holding him in place. I don’t want him to stop.
But he does. He lifts his head and smiles at me again. He moves himself up to me, leaving me on my back. His hard cock brushes along my leg as he gets closer. He reaches me, and we kiss deeply. His body is pressed against mine, and I can feel him breathing.
He looks me deep in the eyes, holding my stare. “I love you,” he says.
“I love you, too.”
He penetrates me, and I throw my head back and let out a scream. He slides all the way into me, up to the hilt. His hands wrap around my thighs and pull me in. I wrap my legs around him and hold myself there.
And we make love.
It’s slow and intimate. It’s tender and passionate. It’s soft and caring. And it feels perfect.
He holds my eyes as he continues to penetrate me. I don’t blink. I stare into them, into his soul. The sex is incredible. The love making is out of this world. I pull my eyes from his to kiss him deeply, but then fall back and continue to stare.
We come together. We don’t say a word or signal that we are ready. I feel myself coming, and as I do, I feel him coming inside of me. Together, the two of us climax and scream and moan and kiss some more.
Blake rolls from me, heavily out of breath. I snuggle up to him, wrapping myself in his arms. I kiss him on the chest and on the neck. He kisses me on the forehead. I love Blake, and I swear to myself now I will never question his love again.
