Masters for Life

by Ginger Voight

  That night, when I crawled into bed with my husband, it struck me how drastically my life had changed. When I had stayed there just the previous spring, I had no clue what life had in store for me.

  Now I could see my future planned to the letter. Husband, check. Home, check. Career objective, check.

  And now we were going to conceive a baby.

  It truly was perfect.

  I cuddled up to Devlin. “Thanks for making my dreams come true, Dev,” I murmured against his skin as I lay my head on his chest. “I love you.”

  He pulled me across his body for another kiss. I snuggled against him and didn’t dream until morning.

  The next few days felt like stepping back in time. There was no TV, only books. That had been Mother’s rule, and I had never felt the need to change it. I was perfectly happy to disconnect from the world and escape to my country estate.

  Devlin had a harder time adjusting. He used his phone a lot, particularly to post photos on our accounts, to show our new fans what we were up to. He liked to put me in each and every one.

  I stopped checking those photos when Caz started following our accounts, and liking every single picture Devlin took of me by myself.

  I had enough to worry about without thinking about Caz Bixby. I started taking ovulation tests on August 6, because I was too damn impatient to wait any longer to make love to my husband. “Let’s just make love every day,” I suggested. “We can’t go wrong.”

  He chuckled. “Just two more days, Mrs. Masters. And then you can get what it is you truly want.”

  Despite his denying himself, he usually still fulfilled me whenever I reached for him, but it wasn’t what I wanted. What I needed.

  On August 8th we finally got the green light. I was ovulating, and had until my birthday to conceive our first child. I practically pounced him before he could even wake up that morning, but he shook his head as he held me close. “It’s gotta be perfect, Coralie.”

  “We’ve only got twenty-four hours,” I pouted.

  “I’ll only need one,” he grinned before he thrust off the covers and leapt out of bed.

  That he was naked, and aroused, only made me crazier.

  He left the chateau itself for nearly an hour on the dot. I had just gone to look for him when he snuck up behind me just outside the front door. “I’ve got a surprise,” he whispered against my ear.

  “Okay,” I grinned, ready to go wherever he wanted and do whatever he wanted. This was our day. Our special day.

  He slipped his satin blindfold from his pocket and affixed it over my eyes before he began to lead me down the path. “You’re going to get lost,” I protested with a chuckle.

  “I’m never lost when I’m with you, Coralie.”

  I shuddered, shut up and followed.

  He led me by the hand far away from the grounds. I didn’t even know where he was taking me until I heard the old wooden door creak on its hinges. He pulled the blindfold away to reveal the chapel. It had been cleaned, as in swept and dusted, and large taper candles burned in the various candelabras around the room. They, along with that pinpoint of sunshine from the hole in the roof, set the room aglow.

  There was a blanket and pillows on the floor in front of the altar. I turned to Dev. “You want to make love in a chapel?”

  He nodded as he pulled me towards the pallet he had set up. “We’re creating life, Coralie. What could be holier?”

  I shivered as he pulled me down to the blanket, where he pushed me onto my back. He followed me down, kissing me fully at long last. We no longer had to wait. This was it. This was the moment we had been anticipating.

  I pulled him down to me, tangling my fingers in his hair. I kissed him hard, exploring his mouth with my tongue as I arched my back against him. He loved my tits, and I encouraged him to explore them liberally. I nearly came the minute he ripped away my shirt and pushed aside my bra to take my nipple into his mouth.

  “Devlin,” I cried out.

  He took his time getting me up to speed. We knew that my having an orgasm increased our chances of pregnancy. So I didn’t protest much as he fingered me shamelessly on the floor of that old chapel. What we were doing felt godlike. We were creating a life, like Devlin said.

  Before I could come, Devlin turned me over onto my knees, where he ran his hands lovingly along my back and down my backside. I felt him reaching for me. “Devlin, please,” I begged.

  He curled his body around mine. “This is our moment, Coralie. We can’t go back from this. Tell me you’re sure. Tell me you trust me.”

  “Of course I trust you,” I replied, obediently and sincerely. “You’re my husband.”

  He shuddered against me. “Tell me you want to have my baby, Coralie.”

  I leaned back against him, practically arching my aching breast into his hand. “More than anything.”

  “Nothing will ever break our bond,” he whispered against my ear. “Tell me you believe that.”

  I nodded. “I believe it. I believe you, Devlin,” I assured him.

  He groaned as his hand disappeared between our bodies to position himself. “I love you more than life itself, Coralie. You’re my dream. You’re my masterpiece.” With that he entered me. He was so big and so hard it nearly split me open, particularly from that angle. But it was all I had wanted.

  He placed his hands on my hips, to pull me into each stroke. At first it was slow and sumptuous. We luxuriated in every single inch. We were truly one.

  But within minutes his self-imposed celibacy caught up with him. He was bucking wild into me, and I met each and every thrust. He grabbed my hair and held on as he pumped into me, until with one strangled cry he released himself.

  Then, and only then, did he reach between us and tip me over the edge with his fingers. Each spasm milked him even more, until I was sure that we had conceived our first child.

  Never one to take chances, we didn’t leave that church for hours afterwards. He tried more than one position, just to be sure.

  I knew I’d never forget how his face looked when he was laying above me, staring down at me, the sunlight spilling from the ceiling creating a halo around his head. A tear squeezed from the corner of my eye, which he caught easily on his finger. He said nothing; he just kept me locked in that powerful gaze as we made love.

  As we made a baby.

  When we returned to the chateau, he wanted to ‘haunt’ each and every room. We didn’t get out of the bedroom until one o’clock in the morning, which was technically my birthday. He finally announced what my gift would be as his hands worked their magic against my body. “Twenty-four orgasms within twenty-four hours for your twenty-fourth year,” he promised as he cashed in that first one.

  It was a hell of a gift. I almost lost track around number four.

  I nearly lost consciousness around number ten.

  The next morning he surprised me with breakfast in bed. We ate two bites before he discarded the tray and worked on his birthday objective.

  By noon, he finally led me downstairs, where he played the piano for me in the large living room, where all the beautiful melody bounced off of the walls.

  Since Henri and Jean-Luc had gone to the city for the week, we could roam freely around the grounds, completely naked, making love whenever or wherever we chose.

  It was a glorious birthday, made even more perfect when he surprised me that night before bed with a small gift-wrapped box. “Dev, what did you do?”

  “I had a promise to make good on,” he informed me with that deep smirk that I loved.

  I nearly squealed as I opened the box. I loved presents. The minute I lifted the top away, though, I was speechless.

  It was a charm bracelet, just like the one my parents had bought me so long ago. Instead of my mother’s story, it was mine. There was a dress to signify the first day I met Devlin. Then there was piano, to remind me of how he had played for me that first time. There was dark red rose, a token for uncommon beauty. A diamond ring, to honor
our engagement. A horse, for our new home. And a pacifier… for our baby, who was hopefully already dividing and multiplying like crazy.

  My eyes were filled with tears when I faced him. “Devlin,” was all I could say.

  He caressed my face. “I wanted to give you back your perfect day, Coralie. How’d I do?”

  I tossed aside the box and pulled him down for a kiss.

  Each day passed like that. They were lazy days full of laughter and love. And God, how our passion ignited. No matter how many times we made love, we’d always come back for more. There seemed little reason to deny ourselves. This would be the last time we’d ever come to Chateau du Cabot without one of our children in tow.

  If life kept up at this rate, giving us more good stuff than bad, I might give in and have those four children Dev mentioned he wanted.

  In fact, as the days went by, I couldn’t think of anything else but babies and impending motherhood. I wondered what was happening inside my body. I kept track of every single sensation, to hop all over any early symptom. I could hardly wait to see the result. We had made love constantly for nearly ten days straight, with the sole purpose of conception. The test could only turn out one way. No more negatives like the last time, when I was still on the pill and everything was some big game of chance. By the time I returned home to Father in L.A., I fully expected to produce a positive pregnancy test for him, to give him the grandchild he always wanted.

  I had already picked which room would be the nursery. I found myself breaking my own rules as I window-shopped online. I stopped myself just short of ordering anything. We’d have plenty of time to do all that once we got home.

  Instead I made oblique references to the future whenever I posted any of the frequent photos I posted. I posted a photo of the chapel that very day, tagging it #newbeginnings.

  That Saturday, the 22nd, when I was supposed to take my pregnancy test, I woke up to cramps and spotting. I was prepared for light spotting, since that’s what all the information had suggested might be positive. I took the test anyway.

  Sure enough, the test was negative.

  Surer still, my period arrived in full force the next day.

  I was so depressed I couldn’t even make it out of bed. Devlin gave me some space. It was clear that he was just as disappointed, but he kept his chin up and told me that night, “We’ll just have to make our baby when we move into our new home.”

  I nodded. Seemed simple enough, but given that I didn’t know what we had done wrong, I wasn’t sure that this process was simple at all.

  And as if it couldn’t get worse, Devlin was called back to Cabot’s a full week early. Fashion Week was coming, and we had a lot to do, especially now that Suzanne wanted to be a part of it.

  Because of course she did.

  It was because of that Devlin insisted I stay. “Give yourself another week to recover from everything,” he said as he held me close that night. “You know Caz is going to come sniffing around like the vulture he is.”

  I shuddered as I thought about it. Aside from his ‘liking’ photos on social media, he hadn’t tried to reach out to me for nearly a month.

  There was only one thing worse than knowing what Caz Bixby was thinking… and that was not knowing.

  As much as I hated it, I stayed behind while Dev went back to the states. No mile high club this trip. Instead, I hung around the chateau and drank lots of wine, like I had done every spring and summer for all of my adult life.

  Why not? It wasn’t like I was pregnant.

  I missed Devlin, sure. After our idyllic month together, I saw him everywhere. I felt him everywhere, particularly that old chapel, where I would retreat at least once a day, lying on the floor, reminiscing about our time there together as we attempted to make a baby. I closed my eyes and I could see his face, surrounded by light, as those loving eyes stared into my very soul.

  He had rewired every single memory I had of my ancestral home, imprinting himself on every wall, in every doorway, across every blade of grass. I knew it would never be home without him again.

  But the nights passed much like they had months before, before I had ever met a man named Devlin Masters. I was alone, and it sucked. Technology only made things worse. I felt compelled to keep an eye on what happened in Los Angeles, so I was painfully aware of Suzanne tagging Devlin on one of her photos, two days after he returned. She showed up with him on her arm at an L.A. gala, which–per the press at least–was to promote Youniquely Cabot as her exclusive clothing line for the rest of her husband’s campaign.

  I didn’t last the rest of the week. I flew home by August 27th, which I justified because the sale of our house was supposed to close on August 28th. I had a lot to do. I had to fill a 4000-square foot home. I wanted a couple of days head start before I went back to work after Labor Day.

  Lucy picked me up at the airport, since Devlin was at work. I didn’t even bother to ask him. I knew if I heard the words “Suzanne Everhart,” I’d likely blow a gasket. Our beautiful time together at Chateau du Cabot had been cut short by that hateful bitch already. Anything else and I might just be tempted to burn her empire down to the ground just for the hell of it.

  Unfortunately, at the moment, our fates were entwined. I couldn’t take her down without hurting Devlin with the same bullet, no matter where I happened to aim.

  So I walked off that plane and didn’t stop until I headed right into Lucy’s waiting arms. “Have a good trip?” she asked as she hugged me tight.

  I thought about the negative pregnancy test again. I had much higher hopes for my first conversation with my best friend once I got home. Now I simply had another date to look forward to coming and going just like any other day. I looked in the face of my beautiful bestie, who grinned ear to ear, who practically glowed; she still had a due date to look forward to.

  “It was great,” I lied with a wide smile of my own.

  I supposed it wasn’t all a lie. I really did have a beautiful, romantic time with Devlin. I got to share my ancestral home with the man that I loved. What could be more perfect than that?

  A baby, the angel on my shoulder whispered in my ear.

  Lucy hooked her arm in mine as we headed toward baggage claim. She was full of fun little details about setting up her home. I smiled and nodded as I listened to every single one. I didn’t say much, and she finally picked up on it as we grabbed my two suitcases from the carousel.

  “You get any lower and I’m going to have to find a stepstool for you to get into my car. What’s up?”

  I opened my mouth and before I could speak, I burst into tears. It was so stupid, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Lucy took me immediately into another hug before she herded me out to her car, so we could have a little more privacy.

  On the way back to Devlin’s apartment, I spilled everything. I told her about the pregnancy scare months before, where I had originally been so terrified at the prospect of having a child, but was ultimately disappointed to learn there would be no baby. I told her about trying to conceive in France, only to be disappointed yet again. She listened quietly to my tale. If she was shocked by my confession, it didn’t show.

  “I’m sorry, Ceece,” she said finally, after my words were exhausted. “If it helps, that’s how it works for most couples. When Gus and I researched the statistics, it’s only like twenty percent or something that can get pregnant within a month. Most take about six. You’ll get there.”

  I nodded and laid my head against the headrest of her car seat. “I know that logically. I just… I just wanted…,” I trailed off because I didn’t really know what I wanted.

  Lucy did. “You want to give him something no one else ever has,” she concluded softly.

  I closed my eyes. Whether you want to hear it or not, best friends tell you the truth. “Do you think I’m stupid, Luce?”

  She shook her head. “I get it. I mean, they write songs about it for crissakes. I think we all have this romanticized notion of what it would mean to
bond to another human being that way. Forget marriage. Babies are permanent. Two people marry, it doesn’t work out, they can divorce and go on their merry way. Two people have a kid and divorce, you’re kind of stuck with that asshole for the next eighteen years at least. There’s no more binding commitment than parenthood.” She slid me a glance. “I guess the bigger question is… what’s your hurry? Are you afraid that without this bond, you’ll lose him?”

  Another truth bomb detonated. “Maybe,” I finally admitted, because with Lucy I could. “Caz swears that I’ll be alone by New Year’s Eve, instead of renewing my vows in a church like Father wants me to do. Maybe that scares me more than I care to admit.”

  “You can’t let that guy get to you, Ceece. That’s just what he wants to do. It’s what he has to do. He has a half a million dollars riding on this. He has to make you self-destruct or else he loses everything. I’d rather see him lose it all than you lose it all. Because you do have it all, Ceece. You have a husband that loves you. You’re about to do everything you wanted to do at Cabot’s. You bought a brand new home close to me,” she added with a smile. “What more is there? Really?”

  “You’re right,” I conceded with a sigh.

  “Of course I’m right,” she agreed with a happy grin. “So stop worrying about things you can’t control. I bet you anything you’ll be pregnant within six months. By New Year’s Eve, in fact. Screw Caz. Let that be your objective.”

  I felt better by the time we reached the apartment. She rode up with me, though I wouldn’t let her carry anything. The minute I opened the door, we realized that the entire apartment had been filled with dark red roses, with rose petals leading from the front door towards the bedroom.

  Lucy spared me a coy smile. “Looks like someone wanted you home.” She hugged me goodbye before she made a discreet exit, and I followed the rose petals to the bedroom, where I found Devlin lying naked on top of the covers, champagne in hand.

  “Welcome home, Mrs. Masters,” he grinned.