Desire: Love and Passion (20 page)

             
“I agree, but you don’t have to control everything.”

             
He
did
n’
t reply. T
hey drove in silence to the doctor’s office. They were ushered into a private room almost immediately. 

             
The nurse gave them the standard talk, and then she was ready for
her
ultrasound.
Willow felt a moment of panic. If there was no heartbeat, there was no baby. She was prepared for the possibility that the previous tests were wrong, but from James’ demeanor, he was already a father.
She did
not
want him to be there
if the news was bad. A
s the even paced rhythm came through the speaker and they saw the lines moving in tune with the thump
ing of a heartbeat, s
he reached out and held his hand. When she looked up, he had tears in his eyes.

             
“Congratulations,” the nurse said.

             
They thanked her and Willow got dressed while they waited for the doctor. They did
not
talk to each other the whole time. The doctor came in and talked to both of them. He explained his role and the different examinations she would have to go through for the next eight months, all the way until birth. Willow felt overwhelmed.

             
“Are you okay?” James asked when they got in the car.

             
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she said. She wiped tears away from her eyes.  “I mean, I
’
m carrying a life inside of me.”

             
“You will be okay,” he squeezed her hand giving her some reassurance. “You know I’m here if you need anything.”

             
“Yeah, I read it from your lawyers.”

             
He let go off her hand and sat back in the car.

             
“Are we going to be th
is new
kind of people who argue every time we
’re together?” h
e asked.

             
“We wouldn
’
t argue if you
’d
just leave me alone. Women have been having babies by themselves from the beginning of time. I don’t need you.”

             
“That was not what you said when we made this baby,” he replied.

             
“Well, that
’
s what I
’
m saying now.”

             
“Really?”

             
Willow did not expect him to kiss her, but he did just that. His lips fell roughly
on her mouth
pushing her lips apart. He pulled her across the seat and onto his lap. His left hand pulled her perfect bun apart as he knotted his hand in her hair and drew her into the kiss. 

             
He had surprised her, but her response to him was even more surprising as she looped her arms around his neck, titling his head back so she could kiss him deeper. She felt him tugging at her skirt and she forgot that she was mad at him. She wanted him to touch, needed him to touch her. When he reached between her legs and his hand brushed against her panties, she whimpered and pressed against him. She tugged at his belt
. She
carefully, but quickly unzipped his pants and reached for him.

             
A part of her wanted to stop. A part of her remembered she was mad at him, but at the moment
,
none of that mattered. She wanted him. He tugged her panties away. He raised her slight
l
y
and in the gloomy darkness of the car, he groaned as he entered her.

             
He tugged at her blouse sending buttons across the car as he reached for her breast
s
. Her hands went around his head as he licked at a nipple. She rode him hard and fast, wanting nothing but sweet relief.

             
He growled as he came inside
her
. She arched her back in the confined space as she felt sweet
, familiar
release.

             
She did not move away immediately. She sat there on his lap with him still inside her.  She grabbed a lock of his hair and tilted his head back so she could look at him.

             
“This means nothing,” she said.

             
“Okay.”

She knew
the grip on his hair was painful. A
part of her wanted to hurt him. She dipped her head and kissed him before getting up. 

             
She could not find her panties and gave up looking for the garment. She realized the car had come to stop,
but
she didn
’
t know
for
how long. She opened the door, pulling her blouse that was short a few buttons across her chest. The late September air was already cooling. The car was outside of her house. She thanked Giles and ran inside.

             
Willow hated that she could not have coffee or wine. She wanted something stronger than the orange juice in her refrigerator at the moment. She showered quickly refusing to think about the moment in the car, but it was almost in
-
escapable when she looked in the mirror and saw the small marks he left on her neck and on her breasts.

             
Dinner showed up at six o’clock as it had since she signed the contract. It was not by Giles or whoever his new employee was
;
he came this time.

             
“Go away,” she said taking the package from him.

             
“I wanted to discuss
the
prenatal classes we should take,” he said in a business-like tone.

             
He made her feel silly for thinking he was
t
here for
anything
other than the baby.

             
“Can’t you just email them to me?”

             
“Note I said discuss,” he replied. “I am not here to just ram stuff down your throat. I want us to be able to do this together like civilized people.”

             
She stepped away from the door and let him in. He followed her into the kitchen where she placed the food on the counter, then went over to the table in her breakfast nook.

             
“Are you going to have dinner?”

             
“I’m not hungry,” she said.

             
“We agreed you would have a healthy meal three times per day,” he said.

             
“I’m not hungry. I lost my appetite
. S
hame tends to
do
that to some people,” she said.

             
“Your appetite is irrelevant,” he said. “We agreed you would do this. How many other meals have you skipped?”

             
She shrugged.

             
“Okay,” he said. “You are breaching the contract.”

             
“Oh come on,” she balked at him. “I
’
m not hungry.”

             
“This is what you agreed to. You know breaching means you have to live with me for the duration of this pregnancy.”

             
She got up and opened the container. She took a stab at a piece of meat and bit into it.  No sooner had she swallowed it, came the hurl. She barely made it to the kitchen sink.

             
James was surprised, but he sprang into action quickly running towards her. He held her hair back as she hurled once more. She reached for the tap and turned on cold water
in order to
rinse her mouth and wash away the foamy mess. She tugged her hair from his hand and went upstairs. He followed.

             
She brushed and gargled with mouth wash before going back in
to
the bedroom where he was waiting.

             
“Satisfied?”
s
he asked.

             
“What kind of sadistic person do you think I am? Why would I be happy you are having some discomfort? How long has this been going on?”

             
“The queasiness started about a week ago, but this is the first time I’ve actually thrown up,” she said.

             
“Willow,” he sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “For god’s sake come and live with me. You can have your separate quarters but I worry about you
being here
alone.”

             
“I’m never living in your house again,” she said.

             
“Then let’s buy a new house together. Whatever you want, wherever you want,” he said. “I hate that you cannot see what this is doing to me.”

             
“Please do not make this about you,” she said. “You threw me out of your house in the middle of the night.”

             
“I already explained to you that I did not know it was you. I mean I knew it was you, but I did not. I cannot explain it any other way.”

             
“You never told me that,” she said. “And what is that supposed to mean, anyway.”

             
“I explained it in the letter I left on your car. I was having a nightmare and I knew you called me, but when I got up, it was not you. I knew it was you, but it wasn
’
t.”

             
Willow had never read the note. She remembered balling it up and shoving it in the pocket of her sweatshirt. She
had
n
’
t bothered to read it
once she’d come in the house
. She ran downstairs to her laundry room. She might have dropped it in her lint bin when she did the laundry.

             
James was right behind her.
He watched as she pulled the crumpled note from a box.

             
She never read it.
She unfurled the paper and brought it into the kitchen.

             
My dearest
Will
, I
know the events of the last 24 hours may seem quite strange to you.  They are strange to me
,
too. I tried to keep you from the monster inside, but the closer I got to you, the more he asserted himself. It was not I who chased you away last night, it was him. I do not know how to adequately describe him in words or his power over me. I thought I had locked him away, sealed him for good in the far corners of my mind, but it seems he
,
too
.
has fallen in love with you and hates that it is me that you love, not him. There is no excuse for my behavior. I knew it was you standing in the hallway, but I did not see you until it was too late. Please forgive me. If this makes no sense to you, image how it feels to me.  Love J
.

             
“Split personality?” s
he asked
with a skeptical note
.

             
“No,” he said quietly. “It’s a little different than that.”

             
“
Do you have post traumatic stress
disorder
?”

             
“I don’t know. I spent a year wandering the deserts before I remember who I was and when I got back here, I spent another year putting those years behind me. I know what is real. I knew it was you. I absolutely knew it, but I, I, I cannot quite explain it better than that.”

             
“You should see someone about it” she said. 

             
“I was,” he said. “I was seeing you.”

             
“I’m not a doctor,” she said.

             
“The nightmares only started after I decided I wanted to marry you. I knew I had to share at least some of what happened with you
. A
fter all, you had shared your darkest secret with me. It’s just every time I revisit the torture and the pain, there remains nothing but hate.”

             
“I didn
’
t ask you
to go back for me,” she said.
“I didn
’
t even know if I wanted you to go back at all.
I could have waited a life-
time and not
have
ask
ed
you to relive those years. You have no idea how I felt when I saw your scars. I could feel your pain and I could not imagine what you endured.”