This time, Vincent took careful pause. Before she could grab ahold of his wrists and stop him, he was rising to his feet, pacing from her, tucking in the barstool he had been seated in only moments before as though he was searching for something to busy himself with — he was. “How long?”
“My birthday.” Nervously, she wrung her hands in her lap. She’d imagined the conversation countless times over. He’d frown at her like he never had. Slap her, though this time not because she’d asked him to. Tell her to end the pregnancy. Scowl. Spit at her. Storm out. She’d be homeless. All at her own doing. “I have two pills in my tray from the day before and the day of,” Suddenly, the man’s shoulders shook. Her heart sunk. Was he crying?
She stood rather unsteadily, making a slow approach. She knew what she would say as she did. She’d tell him he wouldn’t owe her anything if they divorced. She’d sleep with Richard, even at the price of her own s
The first thing Blue did when she woke up was roll over. And after that, she shot from the bed of knotted sheets and shook Vincent awake. It was a Monday morning, and two hours since they’d have left for breakfast — yet she lay beside him unshowered. Still wearing her pyjamas. It was the first time she’d slept a full night in days she couldn’t count. “Have you forgotten about your job?” Watching her husband grumble and bury his face in the nested pillows, she finally felt how he had waking her each morning. He turned after moments too long. Met the woman’s gaze with bleary eyes. Freshly shaven. He had already been up. “I’m working from home today, now come back to bed, won’t you?” “Why?” She watched as he pushed his fingers into his eyes with some sense of annoyance. Fought the urge to slap him. “Am I not allowed to spend the day with my wife, Mrs Carmichael?” “Don’t call me that.” She watched with a rather pointed stare as h
“I’ve been thinking; what if Richard had the right idea buying you a car?” Blue glanced over her shoulder from the couch as the man spoke. It had quickly become her spot. He’d cook her dinner despite the fact he had worked all day. Massage her feet as they sat on the couch and waited for the oven. Refill the tea she’d finally finished after letting it steep for an hour or two and turn completely cold. Gently smile as he slipped a hand beneath her skirt. Wrap an arm around her shoulders and tug her into his chest. Make her wish so dearly he’d call the housekeeper to finish the meal so she could lure him into their bedroom… He was pushing around two steaks in the frying pan, just as he had been for five minutes. Staring at the back of the woman’s head, he couldn’t help but consider what she had thought as she stared at the television rather aimlessly. He’d watched another man leave countless gifts at his wife’s doorstep that week. A car. A diamond necklace. Some simpl
Blue felt rather whorish dressing as she had now that she was expecting. She’d worried the stomach that seemed to swell and disappear at mere minute intervals would show in a tight dress. That some passing woman would smell the pregnancy on her and critique her liberal choice of dress. The cleavage she’d eagerly paraded. The amount of thigh she’d presented the world. So, she’d worn a sweater. A rather old pair of jeans she needed a hair elastic to fasten shut. An ensemble far too warm for the New York summer. Yet comforting, nonetheless. Private in a way she so recently hadn’t been afforded.She’d tried to be early. A grave mistake. She’d convinced herself she’d awkwardly walk in, and the applicant representative would already be sitting there. He had tried to be early, too. He’d watch her as she made her approach. Fiddled with her hands because she didn’t know what to do with them. Stumbled on her own feet. Bounced
The man who once sickened her so had long since become the itch she’d learned to ignore. Sitting stiffly, Richard groping at her thigh as though he was feeling up a supermarket apple for any bruises, Blue found she had bigger concerns. She wasn’t cheating—despite the fact she was on a date with another man. Yet she felt there was a reason she hadn’t told him. Worried it would bother him. Vincent wouldn’t approve of it… with good reason. Of course, he had no idea the man had forced himself on his wife alone in some public restroom. Or seemed to mastermind the whole engagement. Looked so plain and yet had the glint of a registered offender in his stare. She had decided not to tell him. She’d dodge any photo opportunities. Politely excuse herself before anyone worth any notice spotted her. Hurry home as though her husband would be waiting. She’d curl around the pillow as she had the night before, pretend she was holding some being close despite the fact
Somehow, Vincent had managed to escape the benefit earlier than Blue. As she slammed the front door shut behind herself and kicked her shoes off with an air of frustration no one could ever triumph, she came face to face with a man, yet again, lurking in the shadows. Sitting on the couch, in the dark, head hung, interlocked hands in between his knees and gaze sharp as he finally lifted his eyes to her own, even she couldn’t be any more dramatic if she tried. Against all instinct, Blue couldn’t help but surrender to the pull that ordered her into silence. Couldn’t fit in a snide remark to cushion her pride. Froze in place as their eyes met. “Why were you there?” “Why were you there?” “I can’t tell you that,” “And I can’t tell you, either.” “Then I guess we have an understanding,” Suddenly, she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. &
Staring down at the woman who laid across the table eagerly like a prize to be claimed, he bent over her. Took her wrists in his hands. Drove himself inside of her. Sighed as she released a breath that twisted itself into a deviant groan. With a gaze that would have made a nun strip and lay out spread-eagle, Vincent drew his mouth nearer to Blue’s, hips rearing into her own, chest pressing hers with each breath she took to still her heart. Mustering what weak resolve she could, she turned her mouth from his, hair loosening from its ponytail and beginning to spill out beneath her. She watched as he released a wrist. Took her chin in his hand. Bent his mouth towards hers. Met the man’s darkened gaze. Lifted her hand to rest square against his chest. Suddenly, he softened and straightened up so slightly, something Blue never could have accounted for. When she spoke, their hips stilled together, chests parted and faces
Blue waited, bated breath and a racing heart... let it be due to her soul-ripping orgasm, the cold, or the sheer suspense of watching Vincent quietly turn from the door and rub at his face solemnly. When she spoke, she found she had the courage to only in whispers as she pulled the skimpy throw blanket tighter around herself, wishing for even a fraction more of the modesty she had been granted. "Who is it?" She feared she knew the answer. She watched as he all but punched the light switch by the front door. For someone trying so hard to keep quiet, he didn’t seem to be all too concerned with it. If theirvisitorhadn't heard them reproducing on the dining room table, there was no doubt they heard Vincent's outburst. Whether he turned the lights off to hide his naked wife or not. He muttered. Scowled. "Go to bed, I'll meet you there," S
Nothing to Blue could ever or would ever beat the feeling of waking up, sun warm through large, ocean-facing windows, sheets twisted up and duvet fallen to the floor, stark naked, with the male embodiment of sex sound asleep beside her, one arm around her and the other thrown over his eyes. With a small, subdued smile, Blue rolled over, lifting a delicate hand to rest against his steadily heaving chest. She watched as he stirred, arm falling from his eyes and head rolling to face her — to her dismay, still very much asleep.She had dreamt
Staring out at the living room floor, Blue saw a sight she never thought she would live to see: Marian playing with her grandson on the floor. It was unsettling, in an uncanny-valley way. Something so close to resembling human but just short of enough. She spun her engagement ring back and forth on her finger. He slid his arm around her waist. “’You okay?” She glanced up to the man stood at her side. His dark hair gathered into a short, thick ponytail. Eyes as bright as ever. Smile as devilish. Would it be so wrong to fuck like animals with her mother in the room next to them? After all, to a married couple, sex was the most natural thing. Or so she'd heard. “Yeah,” Blue sighed. Hugged her arms around herself. “I think so,” “How long is she staying?” “Until she can get the settlement money from Bradley,” “I didn’t think he had any left,” “It’s all
It could have been hours by the time Blue came to. Usually, the state of her coffee would be a good indicator, but it had been stone cold for god knows how long. The sun was still up, if that counted for anything. She had left her phone at the house. Vincent was with the baby. She had stolen herself away for some quiet at the very café she had shared with both Vincent and Richard. Sat staring at her right hand where the engagement ring of the latter sat without a band. What was he doing? A thought that crossed her mind often. She hadn’t heard from him after the verdict, though still awaiting the sentencing. She had the thought that he was arrested for assaulting a police officer after his fiasco of escaping custody in the courtroom. Christopher wouldn’t have set any bail, would he? Not after he pretended to have been oblivious to his son’s sins. It would be hard to act surprised if he was actively helping his son as someone ought to. Vincent
Blue stared at the city; Vincent stood at the counter behind her. The windowsill seemed to share her most pivotal moments more than even the universe shared them with her. Though her grief was one of the poorer-kept secrets of the world she felt marginally better whispering her thoughts to the brittle pane. Just as she felt gratitude Vincent had kept the apartment they’d outgrown with the baby for nostalgia’s sake. Or to bolster his net worth. Either one.She was muttering the same three words over and over. Repeated hoping that enough times would unencumber her or the rage that swelled with each inhale to expel them. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate… The world?“I should write him a very strongly worded letter.” She glanced to her husband, the man fiddling with a steaming tea as though debating which moment would be safest to present it to his wife. “But
“It is found,” Blue glanced up at her husband, her arse feeling rather sore from the wooden bench. They had been sat in court for what ought to have been five hours at that point. The room smelt of wood varnish and stale air, having the look about it of a church with generous natural light and the buzz of Catholic choir. Only the silence rattled through much the same way any prayer would. “That the Commonwealth has proven beyond a reasonable doubt,” She had stared at the back of Richard’s head the whole time, if only hoping he would meet her eyes for just a second. She feared he thought no one in the room was on his side, a feeling she had become well-acquainted with over the years. Nothing seemed more dreadful than being carted off to prison with that same feeling. How strange it was to think that the man she was so sure she would murder given the chance had sat on the living room floor playing with her son just a day or two before. Staring into her husband’s deep green eyes, she w
“So, I have a question,” Blue reached for her coffee, eyeing her maid. Well, she wasn’t her maid anymore. She was her mother-in-law. It was complicated. Pregnancy had somehow made her even fonder of coffee, maybe because she hadn’t had it. “Why did you tell me not to stay with Vincent when I told you I was pregnant if he was your son this whole time?” She couldn’t help but smile at her own sentence, taking a long gulp of the latte that had since gone flat. Vincent stared between the two silently. It was news to him.“I thought he was going to prison,” She simply shrugged. It was a good enough answer. Blue wasn’t sure whether Anya—Alfonza, as she had come to know—liked her all that much. “I thought I was doing what was best for everyone,”“So, you tell my wife to leave me?” Then came her husband’s booming voice, deep and accented. Ho
Blue stared at the deep purple wrap dress in the mirror, sleeves to her elbows. Loosened the strings around her waist and tightened the knot again as though it would magically make her thinner. She was yet to properly mourn her pre-baby figure. She looked like a rectangle. A bloated, lumpy rectangle. Or so she thought quietly to herself. She tore the dress over her head.“I think we’ve found a winner,” Vincent entered the wardrobe quietly. Tried his best not to gawk at the woman in her underwear as though he’d never seen her half-naked before. Failed miserably. Wrapped his arms around her middle instead and pressed his mouth to hers. But she shoved him away. Turned back to the clothes instead.“We can’t do this, we’ll be late,” though she spoke as firmly as she could, she couldn’t help but smile softly to herself and blush as she leafed through her clothes without looking. The idea of let
“It’s not fair, why can’t I go with Richard?” Vincent dug his heels in as he stopped behind his mother. Hoped a childish frown would move her enough to let her son be with his only friend. “I’m not a child anymore,”“I’ve seen the awful lot Richard hangs out with, you can either help me out for the rest of the day or go to the deli with your father,”“I’m a vegetarian.” He spoke expressionlessly.“Housekeeping it is!” Alfonza sounded a bit too cheerful for Vincent’s liking. Was it too late to call back the Taxi that had brought him straight from school? “Now find somewhere quiet to sit, I shouldn’t be any longer than an hour,”“I’ve got homework tonight, Ma.”“Then do your work here,” She smiled again. A bit too cheerful. Aga
Her skirt was over her stomach in a matter of seconds, underwear kicked beneath the bed. Heart racing, fingertips beating in the tips of her fingers curled up into her palms, Blue spread her legs with no further instruction. Released a long, shaky breath as her husband hooked her legs over his shoulders and breathed into the inside of her thigh. But she stared at the roof. Watched the shadow cast by the lamp behind him loom over her, growing in size as he neared. And all she could feel was his hot, damp exhale fanning her center; his opened mouth quick to follow. “I still can’t believe I’m your wife.” She grumbled the words quietly, arching her back as his lips closed around her and his teeth grazed her labia. “I’m a lucky man.” He grumbled back, his voice twisting through her and carrying its echo deep into her stomach. “I can’t believe that you were so adamant you never wanted to see me again after your birthday party and now you’ve got your pussy i
“Are you joking?” He had his wife’s face in his hands again, staring between her narrowed eyes with a look of expectation now not quite as well-hidden. “You actually went to the police?”“Of course, I did, all the love I had left for him went when I found out how much my mom actually cares.” She looked like she’d thought it rather obvious. Despite the fact she’d been defending him for so long. “He could be sentenced to death, and I’ll be happy to do it.”“You don’t mean that,” he’d released her, sitting back on the edge of the bed, hands on his knees. But she’d rocked forward. Wrapped her fingers through the sides of his hair. Met his eyes with a stare he wasn’t quite so daffy to break.“He told me it was my own fault Richard hurt me.”“But Richard’