~~~Everything hurt. Her back felt bruised. The stairs.
Her mouth felt swollen. All the kissing.
Her vajayjay felt raw. The sex.
The sex.
THE SEX.
Shit. Shit, shit shit.
She opened her eyes and looked around. She was in the sleigh bed. She sat up slowly, feeling achy all over.
She looked under the covers and lifted the nightgown. Nope, no underwear on. They were definitely gone. And she was definitely raw and sore down there. She had no doubt that it hadn’t been a dream.
She got up and went to the bathroom. Then she looked in the mirror and washed.
Am I pregnant now?
Am I nine months away from giving birth to a baby? Tristan’s baby? Our baby?
And am I gonna die?
She put her hand to her belly.
A baby…
Her other hand covered her mouth and she stared at herself in the mirror, her eyes filling up.
She shook the trance off, went back to the bedroom, put a robe on and underwear on and then quietly opened the door and listened. She didn’t hear anyone downstairs so she tiptoed down the stairs.
She found Tristan, sitting in a chair facing the front door, a glass of whiskey in his hand and he looked like shit. The sun was up but he hadn’t slept.
His eyes were bloodshot, his hair was a mess, like he’d spent hours just raking his fingers through it in frustration. He had changed from his track pants into a suit. No tie, top few shirt buttons undone, and scruff on his face.
He looked at her and she saw a flash of pain in his eyes. Then he threw the contents of the glass back against his mouth and took a big gulp. Then he whipped the glass against the fireplace and it smashed.
Kyla took a big gulp of air, of nothing. She tightened the sash on her robe and then her palms were on her face.
“I…” she didn’t know what to say.
He shook his head and his mouth contorted sourly.
She rushed the rest of the way to him, climbed onto his lap, pulling her knees up against herself, and then she put her arms around his shoulders, burying her face into his neck.
He sat, stone still. Not putting his arms around her, not touching her at all. He was just stiff.
“You’re not coming down from it,” he finally said.
She lifted her head up and looked him in the face, not understanding.
“You peaked last night and today would’ve still been a danger zone because you would’ve been descending. You’re not descending.”
She knew what that meant. That meant the egg had been fertilized.
She put her arms around herself and her forehead back into his throat and felt a swirl of crazy scary emotions.
Fear, sadness, more fear. More sadness. Foreboding.
She looked up at his face.
His eyes looked dead. Dead cold.
There was a knock at the door. Tristan didn’t move. Kyla didn’t move, either. A moment later there was another knock. Tristan continued to ignore it. He was staring off into space with dead eyes and Kyla went to get up but his arms whipped around and caged her in. His palm was on her back. He tightened his grip. She buried her face into him again and closed her eyes. His other hand tangled into her hair.
She heard a key and then the doorknob turned and the door opened.
“Good morning,” she heard Adrian call out.
They must’ve been a sight. Her in his lap, both of them looking like they’d been through a war. They had.
She didn’t look up.
Adrian spoke again, his voice far less cheerful, “I was…I was going to invite you both to breakfast but it looks like this is a bad time. I’ll have food sent here for you both. Tristan, call me when you’re ready to talk.”
“Just Kyla,” Tristan said.
“Pardon?” Adrian asked.
“Just send food for Kyla.”
“Annnnd……should I…”
Dead silence.
“Tristan?” Adrian pushed, “Should I---”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“I see.”
There was silence. Adrian didn’t move.
“We’ll talk later,” Tristan’s voice was as dead as his eyes.
“The window is short, Tristan. If we---”
“No!” he barked. His grip on her tightened to the point of pain but she kept her face buried.
Kyla didn’t allow herself to think about what they were talking about. But she knew.
“I’ll have food sent,” Adrian said and she heard the door close and then heard the key as Adrian re-locked it from the outside.
Tristan rose, lifting her up into his arms from his lap, and carried her upstairs and put her in bed. He covered her with the blanket, kissed her on the forehead, and she put her fingertips to his chin cleft. They stared at one another for a beat. Tristan’s eyes warmed and looked like they were filling up with wet. Her chin started to tremble. He kissed her lips softly and then he left, leaving the door open.
Kyla stayed in bed for a long time, just listening to birds singing outside, just laying there in what felt like a trance. She couldn’t dig in and think about this. She couldn’t. There was no way to run from it but she just couldn’t process it right now so instead she just stayed there, staring into space, listening to birds chirp and tweet sometimes happily sometimes sounding annoyed, and then she heard the front door and a few minutes later Tristan stepped back in, put a tray on the nightstand and said, “Eat.”