When Fangirls Cry

by Marian Tee

  Staffan could only nod dutifully even as he did his best not to let his cynicism show. He knew the same things Elvira did. The only difference was how they perceived the facts. His mother - a beautiful petite woman whose curves were still eye-catching even in her advanced age - was the perennial optimist. None of their earlier hardships had jaded Elvira, but those years had shaped Staffan. It had toughened him up, made him a realist – but he was beginning to realize that he still had his weaknesses.

  Women always succeeded in making a fool out of him, and Sapphire March was the greatest deceiver of them all.

  When Staffan followed Elvira into the dining room, he saw in disgust that Saffi had already done a job on his family, weaving her web of deceit easily with her playful smiles and cheerful banter. As he placed the platter on the center of the table, Staffan couldn’t help but overhear what she was sharing with her rapt audience.

  “Boom, boom, boom…” Saffi was doing her best to imitate the sound of explosions.

  “Ooooooh,” his younger sister Edana exclaimed. She was a miniature replica of Elvira, hair in braids, with hazel eyes exactly like Staffan’s. She looked so much like a doll in her ruffled dress that the first Saffi time had seen her, she wanted to hug the little girl to death.

  Clearing her throat, Saffi said in a loud confidential whisper, “It was so dark but we just knew something was going to happen! Someone really special was going to perform so we were bouncing and bouncing in excitement!” Saffi was bouncing on her feet as she spoke.

  “And then when the lights came back, OH MY GOD!”

  Her audience jerked, including Conrad Aehrenthal, who had a similarly entranced expression on his face. He was tall and, like his wife, extremely good looking for someone in his advanced years. He was supposed to be a billionaire who ruled his resort empire with an iron fist, but at the moment he seemed like a sweet cuddly man who wanted nothing more than to hear stories about his oldest child.

  “Oh my God,” Elvira was stunned into repeating the same words, shocked by her new daughter-in-law’s sudden exclamation. Even Staffan had been taken by surprise, the cutlery he was holding crashing to the floor.

  Saffi didn’t appear to notice any of these though. A dreamy expression on her face, she said softly, “Staffan was at the center of the stage and he was wearing the most beautiful clothes, you know – the kind that really sparkled in a super manly way? He looked like a god.”

  “A god,” his younger brother Cairo repeated in awe. He had chubby cheeks and the most amazing dimples. He also idolized his older brother and was determined to follow in Staffan’s footsteps as a rock star.

  “Yes! A god!” Saffi jumped to her feet. “And then he was singing and dancing and then suddenly he saw me and he called me up to the stage and---”

  “---and it’s time to have dinner,” Staffan interrupted Saffi hastily, realizing that she was telling them about the first time they had met and fearing that she would end up giving his family a play-by-play of exactly what happened between them that night. He drew Saffi towards him, but his warning look was completely lost on her. She was definitely in fangirl mode, and it was times like this he had a hard time remembering she was a conniving two-timing slut. At times like this, it was easy to fool himself into thinking she was the Saffi he had loved, the girl who always had stars in her eyes when she looked at him.

  His entire family was still groaning in protest, including his parents. His own parents, for heaven’s sake, who were supposed to be more mature than his younger siblings!

  “But it was just getting to the good part!” Edana grumbled as she went to sit at her place on the table.

  “After dinner, can she finish the story?” Cairo demanded as he took his place next to his older sister. At nine and ten, the two were extremely close to each other, and their favorite thing to do in life was to boast to everyone that Staffan Aehrenthal was their big brother.

  Saffi beamed, loving how receptive her audience was to listening to more of her fangirl experiences about Staffan, which of course was her favorite subject. Talking about fish was just a close second. As Staffan’s hand clasped hers, she said happily, “I would---”

  “---be very tired,” Staffan ended the sentence for Saffi again, with a pointed look at the younger ones. “We just flew back here, remember? And we’ll need to fly back out because I’m in the middle of negotiating my next project.”

  “Oh.”

  Edana and Cairo looked more pitiful than puppies beaten on the sidewalk, but Staffan was unimpressed. Underneath their angelic facades, these two could be the devil’s imps and were extremely good manipulators.

  Saffi’s heart went out to the two. “Let’s FaceTime when Staffan and I get back to the States. I promise we’ll continue the story.” At her words, the two quickly cheered up, and the speed with which they had recovered made Saffi blink in surprise and then laugh.

  “What time would this call be?” Conrad asked as he pulled out a chair for his wife. Frowning, he added, “I might have a meeting I’m unable to cancel tomorrow.”

  Staffan nearly rolled his eyes at the seriousness of his stepfather’s tone.

  “Oh, yes, that’s with UNICEF, right?” Elvira squeezed her husband’s hand in silent thanks for his courtesy before graciously taking her seat.

  Knowing what was expected of him, Staffan also pulled a chair out for Saffi. She was visibly startled and then looked at him with a glowing expression on her face.

  Ah, fuck.

  Saffi tiptoed and placed a shy kiss on Staffan’s cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered before taking her seat across the kids.

  As she looked down, she missed the way Staffan’s parents exchanged smiles. But Staffan didn’t, and his insides clenched as he sat in between his father and Saffi. All of them were being fooled – just as he had been.

  Yet even as the knowledge taunted him, Staffan couldn’t help but submit to a moment’s weakness. Pregnancy had given Saffi an inner glow, making her seem more feminine and womanly. Her softness was ethereal now, and it was sexy as hell. Just one glance from those blue eyes, the brush of their skins, all of it made him want to forget that Saffi had given herself to another man.

  When Staffan reached for her hand under the table, Saffi couldn’t breathe, couldn’t talk – she just felt. She wanted to cry and right now, she didn’t think it was just because of hormones. Surrounded by the warmth of Staffan’s family, seeing how much his younger siblings resembled Staffan – it had made Saffi try to imagine what their baby would look like.

  She squeezed Staffan’s hand even as she nodded several times to Edana and Cairo, who were both taking turns telling her about how Staffan’s last visit had caused a riot. “There were---” Edana paused, her forehead furrowing. She spoke the word in Swedish, giving her father an inquiring glance.

  “Barricades,” Saffi translated with a smile.

  All heads turned to her. “You speak Swedish?” Conrad exclaimed.

  Saffi colored. “Just…enough. I wanted to surprise Staffan.”

  “I was dutifully surprised,” Staffan said dryly even as he softly rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

  “I’m so happy you speak Swedish!” Cairo burst out. “There are so many more things I wanted to say but I couldn’t figure out how to say it in English.” He made a face at Elvira.

  Elvira made a face back. “No. Rules are rules – you must practice your English if you are speaking to those who are not from here.”

  “But Saffi is family,” Edana protested. “We already have to study English in school, Mama. I just don’t want to---”

  “How about this instead,” Saffi interrupted. “You guys talk to me in English, I talk to you in Swedish – so that we all get to practice. Plus,” she added winsomely, “I know misery loves company. That way, we’re all miserably practicing together.”

  There was a slight pause before the two children burst into laughter while Staffan’s parents grinned.

  “Ingenuous – childishly so
but ingenuous still,” Staffan couldn’t help but remark.

  “You are such a delight, Saffi,” Elvira said with a happy sigh. “I hope you and Staffan can visit us again soon. But---” She hesitated. “Is flying frequently good for your…condition?”

  “What condition?” Edana demanded, immediately picking up the change in the atmosphere.

  “It’s fine, Mrs. Aeh---”

  “Mama, please, my darling,” Elvira invited.

  She flushed with pleasure. “Mama, it’s fine. I checked with my doctor. As long as I keep myself hydrated and I do my best to sleep during the flight then rest again when we land, it won’t be a problem.”

  “Why are you checking with your doctor?” Cairo demanded.

  Saffi faced the kids. “Because,” she confessed shyly but happily, “I’m having a baby.”

  Staffan released her hand.

  Saffi could feel him tensing beside her, and she knew all the memories had just flooded back, driving a wedge between them. Keeping her smile in place, she reached out and grabbed his hand, not letting go even if he was subtly trying to pull his hand away.

  Gripping his hand on her lap, she told the kids, “I’m hoping you can all be there when I give birth. You could also help me choose a name for the baby.” She pretended to mull it over. “If it’s a boy, what do you say about Staffi?”

  Silence.

  Even Staffan was distracted, and unable to help it, he said, “What the fu---” At his mother’s narrow-eyed warning, he corrected himself immediately. “I mean, what the heck are you saying?”

  “Well, it’s the combination of both our names---”

  “I don’t fuh-uh-reaking like it.” Staffan glared at her.

  Edana giggled. “It rhymes with Daffy Duck, though.” Her giggles turned into laughter. “Staffan’s baby will be named after Daffy!” Her parents and Cairo joined in.

  Saffi glanced at Staffan with an innocent look. “You don’t like it?”

  “He-eck no,” Staffan growled.

  “Then how about…Stapphire?”

  His younger siblings were doubled over with laughter. “Ah, yes,” Conrad murmured, straight-faced. “Your first name is Sapphire, isn’t it? Stapphire has a ring to it.”

  Seeing that everyone was ganging up on him, he smiled at Saffi and said in a velvety voice, “I have a suggestion, too, koukla mou. How about we call our baby H because---”

  “---ah, on second thought, my suggestions sucked,” Saffi said quickly, red-faced at Staffan’s threat to share anything about her other persona.

  It was Staffan’s turn to look all innocent. “But baby, I think it’s great. We can combine Stapphire with H because---”

  “Because?” Elvira asked eagerly.

  “Because H…is…umm…my favorite letter since most of my favorite fish start with the letter ‘H’,” Saffi blurted out.

  Everyone was staring at her now.

  “Fish?” Edana finally repeated blankly.

  Ignoring the way Staffan’s shoulders were rocking with silent laughter, she said weakly, “Yes, fish. I study fish in my university so…umm…I have a lot of favorite fish.” Before anyone else could say anything, she looked at the turkey before her. “Umm, I’m hungry. How about we eat dinner now?”

  ****

  Staffan was still grinning as he led the way to his old bedroom. Throughout the entire Thanksgiving dinner, which Elvira had insisted on celebrating in advance while they were all together, Staffan had constantly tried bringing up stories about H, which Saffi had desperately counteracted with stories about her fish. At the end of the day, she had a feeling that the Aehrenthal family was thinking they had welcomed an eccentric fish-obsessed member into their circle.

  “It’s not funny,” she grumbled to him as he opened the door. Walking past Staffan, she only managed three steps before freezing and then completely melting into a puddle of fangirl goo.

  This was Staffan’s bedroom when he was young, and it seemed that Elvira hadn’t changed a bit of it. She half-ran to the shelves, running her hands on the spines of Staffan’s books, which were a mixture of music and business. His desk was extremely neat, with framed photos of his family lined up. His walls had framed limited-edition posters of his favorite musicians, a number of them legends in the Swedish music scene.

  Staffan’s chest clenched as he watched Saffi run around the room like a kid that had been let loose in a toy shop. She looked so innocent, so fucking innocent that he just wanted to goddamn bury his head in the sand and pretend that the world outside never existed. It would be so fucking easy, so fucking better to pretend that Saffi was the same girl he had fallen in love with.

  She was smiling and sighing at the same time, letting her fingers drift over every surface. And then she was throwing the doors of his closet wide open---

  “Wait, dammit---” But it was too late.

  “Oh. My. God.” She slowly took the costumed outfit out. “So it’s true,” Saffi breathed.

  “No, it’s fucking not.”

  “I thought it was just some kind of hoax, I mean, you know, like you’ve been Photoshopped – but it’s true!” Saffi started to laugh as she held up the coat hanger holding a plastic-wrapped three-piece Elvis Presley outfit, with an elaborate wig tied to it. “You really did impersonate him when you were in college!”

  He grabbed the outfit from Saffi and shoved it back inside the closet before slamming the doors closed. “If you ever breathe one word to anyone about this---” When he turned around to scowl at Saffi, she was already half naked, her dress lying in a pool of velvet around her feet.

  His mouth went dry.

  Hands now shaking, she unclasped her bra and let it fall to the floor. “Staffan,” she said softly.

  “What?”

  “I meant what I said. I want you in my bed every night.”

  His jaw hardened at her words, and she could see his inner struggle reflected in his eyes.

  Swallowing, she raised her arms as if to welcome him. “Staffan, please? I want you so much now.” When he still didn’t respond, Saffi let her hands drift over her breasts. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Please, Staffan. I need you to touch me. I need to feel your body against me. I need you to rip my panties---”

  It was the trigger she was looking for, and he was on her in an instant. Staffan ripped her panties off the same time he swept her into his arms. His lips took hers as he gently lowered her to the bed. Saffi’s eyes pricked with tears she quickly blinked away, everything in her crying out her love for Staffan. Even now – even though she knew he still doubted their baby was his, he was careful not to hurt her or the baby.

  She helped him take off his own clothes even as their lips moved hungrily against each other, neither of them willing to break their kiss. When he was naked, Staffan’s lean hard form settled over hers like a second layer of skin that was all heat, passion, and magic – oh dear God, it was magic. His kiss, his touch, his possession – Saffi couldn’t help whispering, “I love you.”

  Staffan froze over her, his head lifting up, breaking the kiss.

  The memories – those hurtful, deceitful, misunderstood memories were returning to Staffan and she saw how the betrayal and fury made his hazel eyes burn. It hurt her, only because she knew how much Staffan was hurting. He loved her – Staffan had loved her with all his heart, and the world made it seem as if she didn’t love him back.

  She cupped his face. “I love you, Staffan.” Her voice was fierce. “You’re the only man I’ve ever loved and will ever love---”

  “Liar,” he gritted out.

  He started to pull away, but she was prepared for it. Her arms went around him, holding him to her tightly.

  “Let go,” Staffan snarled under his breath, the feel of Saffi’s soft naked body tempting him to forget. But he was fucking done forgetting. He had played the role of a happy lover and it just fucking hurt to remember that it wasn’t true.

  Saffi was clinging to him like he was a raft and she was drowning.
He couldn’t use brute force, unwilling to risk hurting her or the baby she carried. “Goddammit it, Saffi, let go---”

  “Never!” Tightening her arms around him, she rose up and aggressively covered his lips with hers. She kissed him deeply, lovingly, seducing him without words. Staffan’s lips were tightly shut, but she didn’t let it discourage her, licking and nibbling his lips as she pressed her breasts against his chest. She twisted her legs around his waist as she rubbed her hot sex against his already pulsing dick.

  Saffi’s breathy moans and calculated moves were fast eroding his defenses. Staffan did his best to put distance between them but Saffi followed him wherever he rolled and twisted on the bed, her lips never leaving his, her hot little pussy drenching his dick with so much wetness it nearly drove him out of his mind.

  “Saffi, fuck!” Staffan rolled to his back as he did his best to disentangle her hold around his neck. But this position was his Waterloo – only he would not know until it was too late. Saffi did let go, only to slither down to take his dick into her mouth, sucking him – all of him.

  “Fuck!” He jerked on the bed, nearly sitting up but unable to because his hips were imprisoned under Saffi’s naked body, his dick still caged in the beautifully moist warmth of her mouth. She had one hand on his balls, playing with them as her other hand stroked his dick while keeping him in her mouth. The sucking noises Saffi was making filled Staffan’s mind and he fell back against the bed.

  Slowly, his fingers tightened on her hair, and then he was fucking her mouth. He closed his eyes, closed his mind to the reality of Saffi’s betrayal and just lost himself in the pleasure of her touch. He fucked her mouth hard, his hands not letting go of her head as he lifted his hips and began thrusting into her forcefully.

  But Saffi didn’t seem to care, her hands tightening their hold around his dick as her strokes became faster and wilder. His breath hitched and he knew he was close.