Authors: Kim Golden
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #African American, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Contemporary Fiction
"Are you married?" I asked him.
"
No, not now. I was married. A long time ago. Well, it only lasted a couple of years. A girl I knew from Konstfack. But I wanted to come back to Copenhagen, and she wanted to stay in Stockholm."
Silly girl, I thought, as he slid his arm along the back of the lounger. I let my head dip back so it was resting in the crook of his arm. He smelled so good... like crushed lime leaves and black pepper and sunshine. He leaned in and let his lips brush my cheek. Tiny shivers prickled my skin. I'd known he would do it, and maybe I'd even willed it. I just remember folding my body towards his and gi
ving in to his kisses as he found my mouth.
I didn't care if anyone saw us there. I just remember how it felt—to feel his arms snaking around me, to lay back on the lounger and suddenly be cocooned in its shield-like sun visor and feel the weight of Mads on me as we lay there together, kissing with the sort of despe
ration I thought only came with being a teenager. How long were we like that, sliding our hands under one another shirts, exploring each other's bodies as much as we could? I remember snapping out of the fog of lust and realizing I needed to go. I needed to be away from him. I was getting myself in deep trouble.
Then he murmured,
"We should get out of here."
And I couldn't think of a reason why I was saying no.
We went back to my hotel. I waited for something like guilt to creep through me, but this burn I felt for Mads kept it at bay. He pulled me into darkened doorways and pressed me against walls, sliding his greedy hands inside my blouse and pushing aside the flimsy cups of my bra while I rubbed against him. Anything to get closer. I was hungry for him. I wanted to taste every part of him. By the time we made it to my hotel room, we'd come close to stripping in too many public places. I wanted to strip away all the layers of clothing separating us and go down on him. I wanted him to grab my hair and force me to take as much of him in my mouth as I could handle, I wanted to claw his back and feel him swelling inside me. I wanted so much of him.
I remembered tumbling into the room and already pulling at the buttons on my blouse before he'd even closed the door behind him. He was on me before I could think about what was happening. His strong hands a
lready unzipping my pants and pushing them away. We fell together on my bed. We didn't speak. We just fucked. I remember how he took me from behind, tasting me first before he finally entered me and how his hips ground against my ass, how his fingers touched me everywhere and sent wave after wave of lust through me. My moans filled my ears. I didn't care if anyone heard us. I wanted more. And when he came I didn't ask myself if we'd remembered a condom. I didn't care. And that's what scared me. I didn't care. I just wanted more and more of him. I would have taken anything he gave me. And then he went down on me again, sliding his tongue and fingers inside of me, nibbling and tasting me, teasing me, and when I came, it was so hard and strong that I gasped and laughed and cried a little.
Afterwards, we lay there on sweat-damp sheets, le
tting the breeze from the open window cool our skin. Outside, someone was laughing and singing along off-key with Rihanna's "Umbrella." Would he fall asleep? Would he leave? I barely moved, I was so afraid of slipping out of this spell.
I didn't have to wait long to find out. He rolled me over on my back and kissed me long and hard.
"I want you again... could you... again?"
I nodded and gave myself to him completely.
God, what was happening to me?
CHAPTER FIVE
R
eturning to Stockholm felt wrong. I didn't want to go back, not just yet, but I had to. I had the brochures from Copenhagen Cryo; I had Ida's business card. She'd even given me files of possible donors and their backgrounds, just so it would be easier for me to convince Niklas. But now I wasn't so sure. I didn't want to go home to him. There was still this remnant of longing for Mads coursing through me, and it was strong enough that I was afraid it would bleed into my life with Niklas. But now I was in the taxi taking me from Arlanda Airport back to Vasastan, and Niklas, and our apartment on Dalagatan.
It was late enough in the evening that he might have gone to bed already. I hoped he had. I needed to hold
onto the memory of meeting Mads, of feeling him kissing and stroking me just a little longer. I needed to convince myself—before I saw Niklas again—that this would never happen again. We didn't have to go to Copenhagen to have the insemination done. We could purchase the amount of sperm we needed and just have a doctor here in Stockholm take care of everything. And then I would never have to see Mads again or leave myself open to falling again. But that was the problem. I wanted to fall. I wanted to run straight back to him, even though I barely knew him.
What was wrong with me?
When the taxi pulled in front of my building, I was relieved to see the lights in our living room weren't on. That was a good sign. It meant Niklas was either in his office or already in bed. If he was still awake, he'd want to talk and then make love. I didn't think I could handle it. Not yet. Not when I was sure Mads's scent was still on my skin and I still felt his presence inside me.
I paid the driver and thanked him for helping me with my bag. I'd probably tipped too much. I almost always did. It didn't matter. There were some American habits that died hard, and that was one of them. I made my way into the building and took the elevator up to our apar
tment and wished I could make the elevator's ascent even slower than it already was. My phone buzzed in my handbag. I fumbled for it and then saw Mads's number. My breath caught in my throat.
"
When can you come to Copenhagen again?" was all the message said.
Shit, this was no good. My body was already respon
ding, twinging and reminding me of what Mads had done and could do again. I typed in a quick "not sure" and pressed send. I should have deleted his message. I just couldn't bring myself to do it.
Niklas was not at home. The entire apartment had a neglected air to it. I wheeled my suitcase down the hall to our bedroom, expecting to find him there, but it was empty as well. Maybe this was better. I could have some time to get used to being back in my normal life. I nee
ded it. I wouldn't have been able to handle Niklas or how trusting he was. I checked my phone again and saw a missed call. I listened to the message. It was Niklas. He'd taken Jesper and Siri out to dinner and a movie, and he'd be late. Well, that gave me some time to adjust, to reconnect. I unpacked and tossed my rumpled clothes into the washing machine in our en suite bathroom. I slid the brochures from Copenhagen Cryo into the drawer of the nightstand on my side of the bed. I showered, too, thinking this would rid me once and for all of any traces of Mads. But when I lay in bed later, I could still smell him on my skin and I knew then that I was in too deep. Already.
* * *
Niklas cupped my breasts, kneading them and pinching my already hard nipples and murmuring how much he wanted me. I reached down between us and felt the heaviness of his swollen cock. I could make him come now, so easily. I could just stroke one finger along his scrotum and press, ever so gently, and he'd come. But I didn't want that. I wanted him to grab my hips and thrust inside me. I wanted him to fuck me so hard I would forget everything else. But every time he touched me, every time he kissed me and whispered "I missed you" or "I love you" I didn't hear his voice, I heard Mads's. I kept opening my eyes and trying to see Niklasʼs face to remind me that I was home again. I was not in Copenhagen. I was in my bedroom with its white walls and whitewashed oak floorboards, with its memory foam mattress, and windows overlooking the park.
I let him make love to me. I needed him to do this. This was the only way to come back to him completely but everything he did just ignited reminders of Mads. I didn't stop him. I couldn't. I needed him to keep doing this, thrusting into me, grappling at me and urging a response from me. And I couldn’t deny it; I responded, because he felt so good, so familiar, even when there was this alien presence between us. I closed my eyes and f
ocused on how he raised his hips just enough to plunge deeper in me, and the rush of want it released in me. I pushed remnants of sleep from my head and then slid one finger in his anus. He groaned in my ear as I eased it in and out and whispered in his ear. He came too soon. I needed more. But this would have to do.
When he kissed me afterwards, he muttered a r
eminder about dinner with his kids the next day. The mood was broken. Whatever euphoria was coursing through me evaporated. And a phantom version of Mads, whose memory had waited patiently in the corners of my mind, climbed into bed between us. As Niklas fell asleep, I slid my hand between my legs and finished what he started. And this time, Mads filled my mind and I came and pressed my lips together to keep from gasping his name.
* * *
We went on like this for several days, seeing each other in passing. Niklas went to London for a conference, returned two days later distracted and moody, and then spent his evenings teaching or at his office. I worked late, telling myself if I worked I wouldn't think about Mads or when I could go to Copenhagen or if I even should. August bled into September and I still hadn't told Eddy about what had happened despite all her attempts to get me to talk about whether I'd broached the subject with Niklas. I held her off for a while with excuses about work and needing to meet a deadline, which was close enough to the truth that I didn't feel so guilty.
But she wouldn't let me get off so easily. She showed up at my office and hijacked me for lunch. I should have known there was only so long she would let me keep this to myself.
"We're going to that sushi bar you like so much," Eddy said. She hated sushi, so this was her way of making sure I came. "We need to catch up. Now."
So we walked to the sushi bar, and I gave her a vague rundown of what happened. I didn't want to share Mads or what had happened between us with anyone. This was my secret. And I wanted to keep it that way, even as I was pretending it meant nothing. Even as I deleted
Mads's text messages or sent hasty replies that said nothing but still promised something. But Eddy was shrewd. Of course she was. This was the woman who'd once dated four men at the same time, and managed to keep each of them from finding out about one another. This was the woman who thought infidelity was not as big a deal as everyone made it out to be. But she was also the only person I knew who seemed to come away unscathed from every relationship, even when it broke down spectacularly. The men she left never seemed angry with her. She somehow managed to remain friends with them. I had the feeling that this wouldn't be the case for Niklas and me. If we ever fell apart, there would be no going back, no meeting for the occasional drink and a quick tumble. The end would be the end.
"
So you went to Copenhagen, met this services specialist and looked at a few profiles?" Eddy wasn't buying it. I could hear it in her voice but she wasn't about to accuse me of holding back. She waited instead. "Did any of them seem like good prospects?"
"
One or two," I said, as I pushed my salmon roll around my plate. I wasn't really hungry, and Eddy was making me a little nervous. If I picked up the roll with my chopsticks, I'd just drop it, so I took a quick sip of my sake and then added, "They had videos of all the donors. It was all very impressive, actually."
"And Niklas is on board now?"
"Not yet."
"I thought you were going to talk to him about it when you came home."
"I was, but he's been away—first in London and now he's teaching that night class again, so he's never around." I cast aside my chopsticks. To hell with it. I picked up the salmon roll and plopped it in my mouth. "We're going to the beach house in Skåne this weekend. I'll talk to him about it then."
"Good. You need to tell him about this so you can make a decision, both of you."
"I know."
"Are the Evil Steps coming with you?"
"I hope not. I told Niklas we needed some time alone." I kept my eyes down and focused on peeling a prawn from my rice ball. "The only thing we've had together is some late-night sex and then falling asleep."
"Better than no sex at all."
"Is that your situation, then? I thought you and Andreas were always at it like rabbits."
"Andreas is too busy right now." Eddy shrugged breezily. "I think his eyes are wandering. It's fine. He'll come back."
"Shit, Eddy. I'm sorry."
"Why? It's not your fault, sweetie. He wants a taste of something new, and then he'll get it out of his system. In the meantime, I can do what I want."
"Which is?"
"Fuck if I know. Maybe I'll go to Paris. I might go to Rome. Colin is there, so I could always visit him." Colin was the man Eddy had once called the love of her life. He was also her fall back guy whenever anything was going pear-shaped. If she was thinking of visiting him, then Andreas and his wandering eye must have really been bothering her.
"Why don't you and Colin just try to make a go of it?" I asked. "How many years has it been of you two bouncing between relationships and still hooking up anyway?"
Eddy pursed her lips together and watched me stead
ily. "You know that's a forbidden topic, Laney."
"Why?"
"Because Colin and I can never make it work." She let out a sigh that was both wistful and resigned. I knew she still had feelings for Colin. She'd been in love with him for so long and they'd tried—on and off—to make their relationship stick, but it never did. Sometimes I wondered if it was cold feet on both parts or if it was everything that happened when they were together in New York. There'd been so many factors: racial tension, misunderstandings that flared with the merest kindling into something too large to control, so-called friends who disapproved, and then Colin's sudden decision to move back to Europe. And then he was gone, and Eddy—who was so in love that she would have done anything for him—followed him to Europe, but couldn't convince him that they were worth fighting for. And then she gave up and looked for someone else to love. They still spoke often; they never let go properly.
"Maybe you could now. You're not kids anymore."
Eddy gave me a cool look. I was treading on thin ice. "There is nothing left there. We're just friends."
"So why are you thinking about going to Rome?"
"To visit a friend," she stressed and then drained her glass of sake. "I don't want to talk about me. I want to talk about you."
"There's nothing to tell, Eddy." I ate my last piece of sushi. Mads flashed through my mind. I pushed him back into a corner. "I went to the clinic and I met one of the specialists. She took me through the entire process. I still need to think about it."
"You know you have to shoot yourself up with hormones before they can inseminate you, right?"
I nodded. "She told me about it."
"Are you nervous?" Before I could answer, she shook her head and said, "I would be. I would be, if I were you. You're stepping into something completely new. You don't even know what to expect."
"I expect a child at the end."
"Well, you'd get a child, but you know what I mean. The magnitude of it."
"As long as I don't get a child like Siri, I will be ha
ppy."
Eddy laughed and slapped my arm. "Girl, you are i
nsane! You know what I mean. This isn't just about having a baby. This is about bringing someone into this world and being connected to them in a way that can even supersede whatever you feel for Niklas. You will love your child more than you love him."
"I know. Ingrid told me about how it was for her. She said she had to learn to love Anton again, because she only had eyes for her babies."
I tried to imagine it, though. What would my life with Niklas be like with the addition of a baby? One of the home offices would have to become a nursery. When Niklas was still married to Karolina, the babies slept in their bedroom—often in between them in bed—and he'd hated it. Not because the babies invaded his space, but because he was terrified he would accidentally crush them in his sleep. He was a wild sleeper. I knew it from how many times his arms and hands crashed into me at night. I'd already decided our nursery would also have a daybed, so that I could sleep there if need be.
"That could be you, Laney," Eddy said softly. "You need to think about it. You and Niklas are already going through a rough patch. A baby could make it even rougher."
"I thought you were gung-ho for me to do this."
"I want you to do it, if you think you're ready for it. Not because I said you should do it. Did you meet any of the donors?"