Canceling the pact was easy. As soon as Cale woke up, she would tell him the pact was a mistake and they should just forget it. However, Diana didn't have the same conviction when it came to the pill. She could never admit it to Cale, and hell, she couldn't even admit it to herself, but deep down inside, a part of her wished she was pregnant.
Back in the bedroom, Cale had achieved another feat that may have seemed insignificant to the sober. He was now at the point where he could keep his eyes open and think somewhat critically.
He thought about the pact. Or to be more specific, its creation. The way he saw it, the idea was given to him by God. It was similar to the way sculptures used to come. And this gave Cale hope.
There was this optimistic notion that God had not forgotten him. The idea for the pact was only the beginning. Sooner or later, his art, the truest love of his life, would return.
After an hour, his physical pain diminished enough that Cale decided it was time to take on the next challenge of his day – getting out of bed. With both feet on the ground, he gingerly stood up only to fall back down again from dizziness. But an upright position had been achieved, which like the cavemen before him, grew easier with practice. It might be a tad over dramatic to compare the first bipedal humans to a hung-over twenty-first century male, but the similarities were there .
Step by painful step, Cale made his way to the living room, but Diana was too involved with her work to notice the sudden appearance of a naked man. She was in her own world filled with adultery and alimony, custody and child support. There was nothing that could stop her when she was in that kind of work groove. She was unflappable. A single-goal minded juggernaut that could not be phased by...
“Morning, darlin'.”
Something stopped the juggernaut.
Any aggravation she had about being interrupted disappeared into laughter at the sight of Cale. Naked, disheveled, bruised, cut, and a nose too crooked to be functional apparently was funnier than you would think.
Cale sat down on her couch and said, “I know what you are thinking, and yes, I am available.”
“You can't be serious. I would think with the bruises and dried blood, you would have to fight the girls off.” Diana joked.
The massive pile of papers on Diana's desk made Cale think she was in a personal hell, and like always, he felt he should save a girl in trouble. “Why don't you leave that stuff and come back to bed? You have all day for work.”
In her mind, Diana had a vision of the rest of her day if it continued on this current path. There would be more sex. And lunch. And more sex. And dinner. And drinks. And you can probably guess what would come after that.
Diana knew she would have a great day if she went back to bed, but she wasn't concerned about that day. It was the next day, week, and month that worried her. There would be a fight. Or something big at work. Or Cale disappearing completely. It was guaranteed that sooner or later, they would be right back where they started. She refused to let this happen, and at the same time, she needed to cancel the pact.
She got up from her desk, sat next to him on the couch, and said, “Cale, we need to talk. About last night...”
“I know, I've been thinking about it too.”
Surprised, Diana said, “Really?”
“Yeah, it might sound strange when I tell you this, but when the idea for the pact came to me, it was identical to the way sculptures used to come.”
“What?” Diana asked. This was not what she expected to hear.
Cale couldn't contain his grin. “It's been so many years since an idea like this came to me. It... feels good. I have a feeling something good is gonna come out of this pact, darlin'.”
As heartless as you think Diana may be, she couldn't tell Cale she wanted to cancel the pact. Ignoring the blood, bruises, and crooked nose, he looked alive. She grabbed his hand and warmly said, “You need to go see a doctor about your nose.”
“After we go back to bed?”
“No, you need to go now. I have work to finish.”
“Alright, if you insist.” Cale replied. He wasn't offended by Diana's brazenness. It was who she was, and he liked her for it. Before he left to get dressed, he asked, “Do you wanna go out sometime this week?”
Speaking toward the stack of papers on her desk, Diana said, “No, I'll be busy all week.”
“What about the results?”
Deep breath. “Give me two weeks, and I'll let you know. Now seriously, Cale. I need to finish this.”
Cale leaned in for a kiss, and was promptly rejected. Disappointed, he said, “So you don't want to see me even once until then?”
“No, I do not. We need to be rational about this. What if I'm not pregnant, and we get attached over the next couple of weeks? Do you want to say goodbye forever if we start dating again? It's better this way, trust me.”
Cale smiled and nodded. Diana could be as rational as she wanted, but he knew the truth. This was fate. In two weeks, Diana would see it was as well.
INSTINCTS
Diana's wholehearted willingness to go along with the pact was more than shocking to Cale, it was suspicious, even worrisome. This worry led him to believe he may be in danger, and like most animals when they perceive a dangerous situation, it was either fight or flight.
3
He considered acting like the pact was a joke and leaving, but the intensity in Diana's eyes from something other than work kept him there.
Outside Diana's bathroom, Cale put his hands on her waist and leaned in for a kiss that would symbolize signing this contract. “Wait, let's talk about this for a second.” Diana cried and backed away. She might've been drunk, but there was still a glimmer of sober Diana in there pleading with her to understand the severity of this agreement.
You could say this was a play off the 'angel on one shoulder, devil on the other' type of persuasion. There was the sober Diana on one shoulder, begging with her not to agree to the pact. The risk was too great and the odds way skewed. Getting pregnant was not some coin flip, unless that coin had about two hundred sides to it.
On her other shoulder, the drunk Diana didn't need any pleas for rationality, because it had a bullhorn and was shouting as loud as it could about every problem in Diana's life and how the pact would solve all of them at once. This is why that drunk voice is so powerful compared to its sober counterpart. Volume and an appeal to emotion will beat rationality and understanding every day of the week.
Giving in, Diana said, “If we're really gonna to do this, we need to set some distinct, clear rules.”
“Of course, darlin', let's go to your room and we'll work it out.”
“Couch, jerk.” Diana said as she grabbed his arm and led him into the living room. As unusual this pact was, it still in essence was a contract which Diana intended to clarify.
As soon as they sat down on the couch, Diana began to improvise the rules of this arrangement. “Okay, so we have sex one time without any form of birth control, and if I get pregnant, then you have to marry me.”
Cale smiled and nodded. There was no way this could go wrong. It was fate.
“But if I don't get pregnant, then you have to stay away. I don't care what the emergency is. Or anniversary. Or event. Or anything. We'll be as good as dead to each other.”
Even though he was confident, it scared Cale to hear this condition spelled out so bluntly. Outside of Nick and Brian, Diana was his only other real friend, and this meant much more to him than just being an on-again, off-again, girlfriend. Hiding his fear, he jokingly said, “Don't worry darlin', I plan on getting a restraining order on you as soon as you let me know you're not pregnant.”
“I'm serious Cale, no more two AM shouts outside my window, no more surprise visits at work, no flowers, no wine, no phone calls, or texts. Nothing.”
Deep swallow. “You got it.”
“When was the last time you were tested for an STD?”
“You know I always wear condoms with new girls.” Diana's scowl let him know this answer wasn't good enough. “I'm clean, I was tested two months ago.”
Diana knew better than to be comfortable with that answer. “And how many women have you had sex with since then?”
“Only three and I wore condoms each time,” Cale said in a similar way an alcoholic would gloat about going a month with only three drinks.
Satisfied that they both had a clear understanding of the agreement, Diana asked, “Alright, Cale, do you wanna add anything else to this deal?”
Cale thought for a second, but nothing except the obvious came. “Can we have sex now?”
After foreplay that lasted slightly longer than it took both of them to tear the other's clothes off, Diana was on top of Cale bouncing with all she had. Diana, like most women, had a reasonable goal every time she had sex, and this was a more powerful orgasm than ever before. Luckily for her, Cale, like most guys, would do everything in his power to give her this climax.
He grabbed onto her waist and began to rhythmically slide back and forth with her. It was like his hips were constantly trying to catch up to hers. His mind on the other hand was in a struggle between enjoying the moment and not thinking about it too much in order to prolong it.
There were two opposing forces at work in Cale's attempt at holding off what the scientists call ejaculation. The first was all the alcohol he consumed and the numbing effect this had on the most sensitive parts of his body. At the moment, this was beneficial, but as we all know, excessive amounts of alcohol typically spells disaster when sex is involved.
If the alcohol made him numb, then the lack of a condom had the opposite effect. He felt every contour, moisture, and ripple of Diana. And the tightness! The tightness has to be mentioned.
Cale knew he was coming to his breaking point, and it was evident from her screams that Diana was already long past it herself. There was no longer any pain in either of their lives. It was all joy. Ecstasy. Completeness.
Finally, Cale couldn't hold out longer as a million different experiences, feelings, and thoughts flooded his mind while a million different DNA, RNA, and Amino Acids flooded Diana.
In the throes of each other, it didn't take long for them to pass out. When Cale came, their consciousness left.
4
The next morning, Cale awoke feeling more dead than alive. It was more than a hangover and more than getting pummeled in a fight. It was synergy. 2 + 2 = 5. Two horrible feelings combined into something greater than the sum of their parts.
Cale's first challenge was to open his eyes which had developed bruises in every color of the dark spectrum. It was painful to even do something that basic, but he slowly peered out, turned toward Diana's side of the bed, and saw nothing but the covers neatly made.
Out in her living room, Diana was preparing arguments for a high profile divorce case. Working on a Saturday morning was nothing new to her, but the reasons were different than normal. She was trying to distance herself from Cale. Of course, that distance only amounted to forty feet, but it was an improvement from the bed.