Colour Series Box Set (109 page)

Not really, I have no clue why but I want more than that. I wouldn’t dare tell the knife wielding bitch that though, I’ll work up to that. I had an image in my mind of us being a happy little family. The ever after that Callum never got.

“I’m sure I can make it work.” A frown furrows her forehead as she gives me a genuine death glare. Did I say something wrong?

“Harmon, you don’t know me well enough to understand that whatever little fairytale you have in that stupid head of yours is never going to happen. So stop thinking it and accept that this is how it is. I’m in charge now, you tried and failed to get the better of me.” Her words are like acid as she spits them at me. “God I hope this kid gets my brains, because there’s something wrong with yours.” The insult hits me right in the gut, I have always been considered clever, or above average until I came here and had to decipher this world where crime, violence and emotion is all mushed together.
I’m not dumb, I’m horribly confused, bitch.
This world they have created is pure insanity, I preferred the one where I existed amongst people who had no fucking idea who I was and I only had to interact with them when I wanted to. I was blissfully alone, with a stupid whore to fuck at night. Callum was correct, she was a whore. This is so frustrating.

“Fine, Avery, whatever you say. How will I know what days are shagging days then?” My interpersonal skills are not the best when I am irritated.

“Give me your phone, there’s an app for that.” Is she for real, an app? I can see the ‘what the fuck’ rolling into my eyes like a slot machine. “I will sync mine to your phone that way you can know when it is optimal.” Clinical and emotionless, she speaks about this like it is nothing to her, unlike when she spoke of her father or Mathew or even work, she doesn’t care about this. I need to make her care more. This has to work. A pink app square appears on my screen and there is a little flower in the notification bubble. I just look at it, afraid to open it. I don’t really want to know about periods and ovulation I want to have sex like we did because it was damn good.

“Flower means we are good to go. And Harmon, one other thing, while we are doing this you do not put your dick in anyone else. I do not want to catch a disease and you need to save your sperm for baby making. If I find out you are fucking anyone else then this arrangement is over.” I can hear the threatening tone that rumbles through her as she stands up and straightens her skirt.

“Avery, I cannot survive on five days of sex a month.” I’m being honest. I need the release to keep from my own insanity.

“You have a hand and I know for a fact that you went quite a while without any when you got here, just get used to it. I’m not your girlfriend, wife or whore.” Before I can rebut she has slammed my office door and left me feeling as if I have my pants down.

No sooner has the sound of the door slam disappeared and my phone buzzes with a message notification.

Tonight, I will come to you since leaving seems so very difficult for you.

God she is the most infuriating bitch I have ever come across, I hate that she’s controlling me. I hate that she can, but I can’t exactly make my own baby. Can I? I start to think about it and type the words into my Google search and comb through the results.

Just as a snake sheds its skin, we must shed

our past over and over again.

THE FIRST MONTH WAS
the hardest, I had to fight my gag reflex as I pretended to enjoy having sex with Harmon as much as he seemed to be enjoying it. I felt like my soul was dying every time, I would try and just focus my mind elsewhere, but switching my emotions off was no longer an option for me. I felt this, I get my grief and my pain and everything else as I continued to keep him just happy enough that the idiot wouldn’t do anything stupid. Babysitting him is a full time job that is sucking the life out of me, he even Googled whether or not he could have a baby on his own. The man is insanely clever at what he does, numbers and legal shit, but good God he’s as thick as pig shit about anything that requires him to understand humans on any level. The second night of this torture, I went to his flat and after sex he handed me a package of prenatal vitamins, ovulation and pregnancy test. I wanted to hold him down and stick them down his throat and leave him to die choking on them, the hatred that I had for him was growing into a very serious animal that I was going to have to keep on a leash.

Today, he’s coming with me to see Owen, my gyno because he can’t understand why I am not pregnant yet, his ignorance is helping this plan along nicely. When we spoke on the phone about this Owen laughed with me and I can say that the man might just be the only friend I have in the world. We have a plan. This time, he will talk to Harmon about how hard it is to actually get pregnant, hoping this will give us another month or two. I drive us to the very upmarket woman’s health centre where Owen works. A place where the walls are decorated in vagina pictures and posters about laser vaginal rejuvenation are proudly displayed, a place that would make any man cringe. I must admit I’m going to enjoy watching the physical reaction I know that Harmon will have. It is time to take sex education to a whole new level. I have watched him drowning in his own delusions the last three months, the man is a mental patient waiting to happen. I have made sure that he is under ten ton of work pressure, creating problems that don’t even exist to keep him distracted and stressed to the maximum. He has even lost that look of refined gentleman. He looks frayed and a little lost. I park right in front of the door and when he comes to stand next to me the smell of his cologne is overwhelming. I side step a bit, but he reaches out and holds my hand. We are in public, he thinks we should appear to be a couple. I want to rip my hand away and punch him in the nut sack. I have to remind my body not to obey my mind. I cannot help but smile at what he’s about to walk into as we push open the giant mirror glass doors our reflection evaporates and is replaced by a reception desk and the biggest vajayjay you have ever seen in your life framed and hung on the wall behind it. I glance sideways to see Harmon swallow as he adjusts his tie and sticks his hand in his pocket. The one holding mine has gone clammy, it’s disgusting but so satisfying.

“Avery for Dr. Owen,” I say to the lady seated below the painting.

“Hi, yes down that passage to right you can check in with his receptionist there.” She points and I drag him with me as we walk down the hall of horrors for any guy, pictures like the one up front are all over the place. When we get to Owen’s practice rooms I’m greeted by his receptionist, she smiles and calls Harmon my husband which he enjoys entirely too much to correct her, so I do.

“Oh, this is Harmon, he’s not my husband.” The girl blushes and apologises and I can see the steam of my blatant rejection coming out of his ears. His ego is not used to me yet, and I enjoy bruising it so much.

“I’m so sorry, have a seat I will call you when the doctor is ready for you.” She motions to the chairs arranged around the room, which is surprisingly quiet, bar a pregnant lady and her husband sitting in the one corner. I take the opportunity to remove my hand from his as we sit down to wait. Lesson one, Harmon, the gyno is never on time, ever. After half an hour, he’s tapping his foot annoyingly and the couple who was ahead of us has just been called so we will still be waiting a bit. I flip the pages of a magazine I’m not reading and try to focus on the present when my mind still drifts to the past, to Mathew, to the rules that I’m breaking every day. This is hurting me and more than I want to admit. A heavy sadness settles in my belly as we get called back to his exam room, also known as the place where dignity goes to die.

“Avery, Harmon, come in take a seat.” Owen’s friendly voice and outstretched hand greet us at the door, but his eyes are asking me if I am okay. I nudge Harmon who looks concerned by the fact that my doctor could be on the cover of GQ, he looks him up and down a few times and looks at me eyes full of ‘have you fucked him’ questions. Which can be answered with ‘he is still alive isn’t he?’

“What can I help the lovely couple with today?” Owen is sugar sweet. The fake smile he wears hides his disgust for Harmon well. I look at Harmon letting him know he needs to answer that, he is the one that’s all worried about this. He stutters and has to try twice before words form and he asks.

“We are trying to have a baby and she isn’t falling pregnant.” So eloquent, idiot. I cannot hide the look on my face thankfully he is looking at Owen and not me.

“Well, falling pregnant can depend on many factors, not just Avery. It is also not as easy as the world would have you believe there is only really a twenty-five percent chance of getting pregnant each cycle. Those are not the best odds.” He talks to him like he is a child in grade school, I secretly enjoy it so much.

“Avery, let’s get you on the table do an exam, run some tests to rule out any problems then we can discuss some options, but I don’t recommend anything more than trying until that hasn’t worked for a year.” Harmon eyes bug out at the mention of a year.

“We don’t have a year.” He snaps. Owen looks at him like he is mad.

“Harmon, I am not God, I can only try and help you.” The sarcasm is seeping out.

The true nature of just how delusional Harmon is about us are coming out during this exam, he turned puce when Owen asked me to undress and put on a gown. He developed a twitch in his jaw when Owen did the breast exam. The jealous rage in his eyes was almost too good to be real. Most doctors wouldn’t invite the man into the exam, but Owen knew what I was trying to do and played along so perfectly. I have to say it did feel strange to be naked and on display for my friend. I keep reminding myself this is his job, he looks at vaginas all day every day. This isn’t personal.

“I need to take a swab for a pap smear and I would like to do an internal ultrasound to rule out cysts, endometriosis and fibroids as possible issues.” Owen talks to me as if Harmon isn’t in the room about to explode with rage. I nod and lay down on the table. “Move all the way to the edge of the bed and put your feet in the stirrups for me,” he says, clicking them into place. My eyes are focused on Harmon, because I would rather watch his horror than my friend getting up close with my vagina. Harm mouths to me, “What the hell?” I just smile and nod like all this is normal. He breathes out loudly through his nose, snorting with disgust as his eyes catch the speculum and he cannot hold it in any longer.

“What is that?” he asks, eyes like saucers.

“I place this inside the vagina and open it gently so that it is held open and I can take a swab and examine the cervix.” Owen is all doctor. This is uncomfortable for him too. The lubricated torture implement is pushed inside me as I undergo a totally unneeded exam. I stare at the ceiling and try not to think how much this would hurt Mathew, I don’t want him to know about this ever. I left him a voicemail this morning, but after all this time I have almost given up hope that he gets them. I can hear the sound of the plastic crackling and the loud gasp the Harmon allows to escape, he is holding my hand like he is marking territory. To be honest, I’m surprised he hasn’t pissed on me just to show Owen I am his, even if it’s in his head only.

“This may be uncomfortable, Avery. You can see the display there on the monitor.” He points for Harmon to look. As my insides are displayed for them to see I realise just how dangerous the game I’m playing is, Harmon is not in his right mind. I swallow a small lump of fear as the discomfort of this is overpowered by the sudden fight or flight reflex. This plan is stupid. I need to find a better way of doing this and soon. He’s bound to get desperate and do something idiotic.

Owen made it very clear to Harmon that there is nothing wrong with me and that if we haven’t made a baby in two months he should get tested. He took the time to tell him that his smoking, drinking and underwear choice could all be affecting his little swimmers. I had to bite my tongue to stop the laughter escaping when the horror was painted over his face. Yes, Owen just insulted your manhood without you even noticing.