The ten-minute wait for Brandon soon extends to thirty, my feet drum into the floor and I clench my phone in sweaty palms, waiting for a message to explain his lateness. Tree branches hang above me, providing relief from the heat but my underarm still perspires.
Curly hair’s card is still on the bench, the name written in Calligraphic letters at the top is David. After much contemplation, I snatch it and put it into my bag. I can rip it later.
A Google search of the name David whispered to me reveals nothing but an image of Brandon and a girl who looks less than five years old. Tapping on the link leads me to a site temporarily down, I hiss. Okay, this David guy is an unserious hustler. He will need to give me more than a name the almighty Google can not identify if he wants my help.
Brandon's car, a black BMW, slows to a stop in front of me, I slide to the passenger side before he has the chance to get out, closing the door with more force than nece
Dusk sets when we are at the hotel’s rooftop for our date. I throw a glance at a frowning Brandon, a smile forms on my lips, he is not exactly pleased with the delay I caused. He had to make calls, change plans and venues for our late lunch date to an early dinner.Box lamps cast soft orange glows on the floor, helping the evening sky illuminate our path. My hand slips from Brandon's, he grunts and I let out a nervous chuckle. A colony of ants march in my belly, nerves light my body as we near the low table they set for us.I tug on his arm when we reach the end of the rug, he tilts his head in my direction, still glowering and my smile vanishes. On my toes, I press my mouth to his, no kissing, no moving, a simple wordless plea. His hand slips to my back, he pulls my lip between his teeth and my legs wobble when he spanks my ass. My fingers weave into his scalp, breasts squash his chest and I kiss him hard enough to wipe the scowl off his face."Elna
"Dear wife." I pause to allow the laughter bubbling in my throat to spill out. Throwing a glance at Brandon sitting ramrod straight, nails digging into the steering wheel while we wait for the light to turn green, I chuckle. He is too stiff. "This is so formal," I say and he mutters an inaudible reply. My hand moves to his shoulder. "Relax, it's just a letter.""Is it?"That didn't come out the way intended but I nod. My eyes return to the sheet of paper in my hand, settle on the font in black ink. I would have loved it handwritten but the line at the top right corner shows he printed it from his email. The date on top tells me it is about a month old. I clear my throat to continue reading out loud and my voice breaks."I miss you. Everyday." There is a fluttering in my chest like butterflies are rousing from their nap, I don't look to him when I murmur, "Then why didn't you call or text me?""
Thirty minutes, he said. I will be back in thirty minutes. But it feels like hours. Long painful hours of waiting for the doctor to return with the result of the blood test. Much to Brandon's annoyance, I resume pacing and he sighs, patting the space beside him. But I ignore him. It's so easy for him to sit still and act okay but everything is not.Another wistful peek at my phone, the door he walked into some minutes ago, I groan and run my hands over my face. There is no baby, I am just paranoid. Am I? He also explained spotting. Oh, God. The mood swings, lack of appetite and nausea. I shake my head and whimper, those could have been symptoms of another sickness. Yes, sickness.The corridor is empty, save for us. Benches line the walls, I saunter to the door. Minutes pass, I hear Brandon calling out to me, my legs carry me back to him and I offer a smile.Squatting between his legs, I sigh, his head lowers so our foreheads touch briefly
I am pregnant.Three words. Three words I don't want to be associated with. Brandon's hand returns to my knee but it weighs a ton, I shrug it off, I don't want his support. My lung closes, the pressure in my chest spreads. I wheeze, a cold feeling of fear whips through me. My breath catches in my throat, a strangled sound escapes me. I don't want to be pregnant.Reaching for something close to me to keep from drowning in this sea of nothingness, my hand closes around thin air and I gasp. The image of the doctor blurs, I cradle my head in my arms and choke on a sob. I don't want a baby."If you want, we could-"I jump, flailing my arms in protest, we shouldn’t have come. "I don't want anything." My chair clatters to the floor, Brandon hisses, a look at his face shows a nail scratch on his cheek. The thin line turns red, looking scarier than it should because of his pale colour. But I don't apologise, he put the baby in me. Staring at the wall, I ask, "Can we g
On the fifth day, a knock sounds on the door to our--my bedroom. The place I have been holed up since the news. He should be the one at the door, I stopped Lydia from coming in to clean. I sigh. Doesn't he understand the definition of space? I need space. Time too.The knock comes again, stronger. I push my phone under one pillow, it has been on aeroplane mode for days, bury my face in another and let out a scream. I don't feel like doing anything. All I want is to exist in this numbness I am fast getting accustomed to.Rolling on my back to glower at the door, the bullhead behind it should have taken the hint, I don't want to see anybody. "Who's that?" My voice is scratchy from lack of use, I receive no reply and my chest falls. I close my eyes, massage my temples. "Who's there?""Brandon."I place a pillow on my face, if I apply more pressure I might be able to suffocate myself. "Go away." Discarding the pillow to pull the covers over my head, I hug myself
Amber eyes are the first things I see when I wake, Brandon's hand on my cheek lowers to his side. He leans back like he is scared I will kick him off the bed, I manage a smile which seems to heighten his fear. The smile fades, I groan and count under my breath.Lethargy washes over me, even if I want to kick him, I am too tired to do that. I palm my head, ignoring the pain that pierces my heart at his subtle withdrawal. The pounding in my head intensifies, I groan. He draws closer to me, hesitant to cradle me in his arms. Offering no resistance, I lay still in his embrace, accepting the comfort he provides.My fingers run in circles around my temples but the throb migrates to the centre of my head. I claw at my forehead, slap the sweaty skin gently until Brandon grabs my hands.Tears gather in my eyes, I whimper and yank my hands from him. The growing pain in my head unearths the emotions from last night, I shove him whe
The bed dips with the new weight, Ma's subtle fragrance announces her presence before she coughs. I turn my face to the wall, pretending to be fast asleep. It is only a matter of time until she figures out my little lie and I don't want to view her disappointment."Are you done?" she asks, referring to the makeover I started in my room. It remained unchanged since I married but the need to keep busy led me to repaint. I can’t be idle.My eyes squeeze shut as her fingers weave into my scalp, I reply, "Not yet." Half of the bathroom wall is coated in paint, I needed a short break. "But I should be done today."I have all day, night too. The work keeps me sane. Away from Ma and her supposedly harmless questions. Away from thoughts of him. What is he doing now? He should be behind his desk, eyes narrowed at the figures on his laptop screen. My face sinks into the pillow, does he miss me too? Not a chance, he is with that bimbo dis
I should never have come here.Josh takes a sip of his iced coffee, eyes perusing the documents he laid out on our table. I want to think this is a trap but there is nothing wrong with what I have read so far but he has been chilly. Frigid towards me like we aren't friends. I should be the one upset.Drumming my fingers on the table, I tuck a braid behind my ear. "I'm sorry for the other day, I swear it was a mistake." He nods, I lick my lips and gulp. "How have you been?""Fine."On a good day, he would have returned the question, I would never feel awkward around him. I let my eyes roam the eatery to avoid the temptation of smacking him. He brought the papers, he should know the content but the seriousness etched on his face makes it easy to believe he hasn't read them. My shoulders sag, will we ever be friends?Most of the round tables are empty, there is no one behind the counter wit