Dinner is a painful affair until Pa arrives. The atmosphere changes, I hold my breath when he pulls out a seat and share a worried glance with Brandon whose discomfort is palpable. Only Ma seems to find the situation funny. Why won't she when she's sitting between me and my husband, asking questions about a trip she knows he never went on. My foot drum into the floor, I stir the food in my plate without tasting it.
Behind Ma's polite smiles directed at Brandon, false interest in every answer he gives to her question is simmering anger. And I am partly to blame for it. If I did not break down, he would have still been in her good books. Casting him another furtive glance, my nails dig into my hips when his eyes remain glued to his plate like he has resigned to his fate.Defeat doesn't become him, it breaks my heart to see him this way and I clear my throat to interrupt Ma's next question. Her head snaps to me, I maintain eye contact and she sOnce the door of my room is locked, the first statement Brandon utters is, "I am sorry." Everything slows. My foot pushing forward hangs in the air momentarily and drops with a thud. I gasp, it is barely audible but the silence lends the sound volume.He is sorry.Tears pool in my eyes, my hand goes over my mouth. "You have never apologised."My eyes round to saucers, I stare at his rigid back. Brandon has always apologised with his actions rather than words, until now, I didn't realise how much those three words could mean to me. A strange feeling washes over me, I giggle once, soon, I am laughing hysterically. Not in mockery of me or him but pure delight, awe. Oh, my God. He is sorry.He spins so fast, I back up against the door. "Is it too late?" I shake my head, he takes my hands, eyes closing. "I am sorry for leaving for Paris without resolving the issue like you wanted us to. I am sorry I didn’t tell you about
"No, don't move," I mutter. Brandon's hand returns to my lower back, I snuggle closer to him, needing more of our skin to skin contact. The throb between my leg grows, I moan.Buried inside my warmth, none of us speaks. My room is quiet except for our breathing which seems to grow louder in the darkness. I like having him in my comfort zone. I like the feel of him inside me, no sex, just inside me, making us one. He still owes me a kiss. My cheek presses to his chest, I draw circles around his nipples and he cups my butt.Chills run down my spine at the sensations spreading through me as he traces the skin between my ass, I lift and lower myself back to his dick immediately and we both moan at the brief, pleasant thrill that racks our body. His chest rises and falls, the rhythm of his heartbeat should have lured me to sleep but I have spent too much time sleeping.Sleep is far from me now. I don't even want to sleep, I want to enjoy
Brandon is in our kitchen. Brandon is in my parent's kitchen. With Ma. I am trying to stay calm after they forced me out of the kitchen but I can’t. What if Ma slaps him again but with the skillet? Shit. I place a hand over my rioting heart. Okay. She is not violent."Amahle." I stop pacing at the sound of Pa’s voice. "Come." He pats the empty spot on the couch, I shuffle to sit beside him. "Why are you worried?" he says. He thinks I’m overreacting but he is not aware Ma hit Brandon. I don't want him to find out. "Tell me."A voice comes from the television, he reduces the volume and I hide a smile, he is still invested in the Saturday morning news. Folding my legs, I tug on the hem of my gown. I am on a mission to seduce Brandon. This morning ended with me on his chest; no sex.Pa gawks at me, I realise I haven't provided him with an answer. "I’m not." A brow lifts, I sigh. I don't know how they do it but he and Ma can see through
Monday morning meets us scrambling to get my belongings to the car. Ma is the only one awake, after a quick greeting and kisses to my cheeks, I hurry down to the car to wait for Brandon. He seems testy, he didn't kiss or hug me good morning. For now, I am keeping mute, I have no intentions of ruining the memories of yesterday, our lazy day.Operation Reassure Brandon is still in the works but my head is empty, idea tank dry. How do I convince my husband he deserves the best life has to offer? I tug on the sleeve of the woollen sweater Ma handed to us, my eyes droop and I struggle to stay awake.The door opens, I shoot up and relax when I see Brandon. "What took you so long?" He flashes a grin that should have appeased me, I scowl. "Why do we have to leave early?""Your mother. She wanted to talk to me."Sleep disappears from my eyes, my head snaps in his direction and he starts the car. I know Ma no long
Our ride home is in peaceful silence as if we fear we will break the tranquillity achieved at the river. Throughout the journey, I can't help thinking about my first sunrise. People talk about how surreal the experience is and they are right, it's too perfect to put into words. One of those memories you lock in your heart archives, visit on your bad days."Elna."Reality sets in, I look to Brandon with a smile. We are home. "You are the best husband ever," I say."You think?" I nod.The unease in his eyes unleashes a ball of worry inside my belly, I lift myself to his laps to straddle him and his arms circle my waist. Caressing his jaw, I ask, "What's wrong?"His smile is nervous. "Are you ready to meet Brianna?" I nod, smoothening the lines on his forehead. We just witnessed a beautiful sunrise, I don't want anything to take that from us. I lean in to press a kiss to his lips but his un
Brandon is clingy. No, I am clingy. I don't want my husband to leave me for work. My grip on his arm tightens, he groans into my ear, kissing away my resistance until I let go."You are leaving me," I say.Another kiss lands behind my ear, trailing to my neck, my jaw and my lips. "To work, wifey." Rolling to my back, my robe opens, he cups one of my overly sensitive breasts and kneads the nipple. I suck in a ragged breath. "So I can have enough money to spoil you." I snicker.Unable to resist him, my eyes fly open and I thrust my tongue into his mouth. I pour my emotions into the kiss, kissing him fast and then slow until he pulls back to stare into my eyes. Shrugging off my robe, I fold my legs at the knees while my fingers move to the waistband of his boxers which I tug on until he grabs my hands above my head. My legs lock around his waist, my hips jerk forward and my crotch brushes his bulge. He hisses."I'll be
Nausea or fatigue, I don’t know which I will pick. Right now, I am tired of being tired from doing nothing all day. Pregnancy is a lot of work. Brandon is acting suspicious, my advisor is giving me hell, my shirts are tighter, jeans barely fit. Everything is against me.Taking the stairs two at a time in a yoga pant pulled over my football-sized bump, I step into the kitchen and head straight for the fridge, the bottle of Nutella hidden behind an egg box. Sunlight baths the top of the island in a golden glow, I dip my hand into the chill chocolate goodness, scooping it into my mouth. Brandon will have a heart attack if he sees me right now with chocolate staining the corners of my lips but that can never equal the headache from my overthinking due to his attitude. He can't even act normal.He had better not be cheating on me or I will cut off his balls and feed it to him. He can't cheat. He won't.With the stress of hand
August fifteen. My eyes narrow at the digits circled in red ink on my phone screen. Is Josh right? Sinking my teeth into my lip, I contemplate redialing his number. Brandon's birthday is on the fifteenth, tomorrow, not the fourteenth like Josh was kind enough to point out. My hand grows clammy, I rub it on my nightgown and spare Brandon a look.Sprawled on the bed with his head buried into the pillow, fast asleep like a child and oblivious to my confusion. A pang of jealousy shoots through me when he rolls onto his stomach and hides his face in the pillow. It will be a while before I can sleep on my back or stomach. Contrary to what the doctor said, I cannot get used to sleeping on my side.Maybe in a few more weeks, I might adjust to it, now, it’s a punishment. Sleeping on my back feels like a luxury I abused, every position is comfortable long enough for me to get tired and upset. They should have asked questions, told me the nitty-gritty in