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No, I don’t regret it.
But my God, how I wish I did.
“Was it a bad dream?”
Ah, sweet relief. He’s given me an out and I reach for it clumsily. I nod a few too many times before biting down on my tongue again.
“Are you okay?”
I nod again, wishing he would touch me. Hoping that he’ll kiss me. Somehow, it feels like less of a betrayal if he makes the first move. If he does it, I’m just helpless to do anything but go along with it, right?
We all know that’s a lie. But that’s okay. It’s a pretty one. A comforting one. And pretty comforts are what I need most of all right now.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers.
The thud of my heartbeat almost drowns out the words. But I feel them take root inside me. They resonate deeply. And two desperate, eager little words keep throbbing on the tip of my tongue like a pulse.
Kiss me…
For a moment, I think he hears it.
I think he’ll do it.
Then he blinks, breaking the spellbinding eye contact. The heat of his breath disappears. His gaze rips away from mine. He slips back to the nursery and I don’t even have the closure of hearing the door click shut.
“Dmitri,” I murmur to myself, “you have no idea what you do to me, either…”
15
WREN
“Well, Wren, I couldn’t be happier. Everything looks great.”
Dr. Liza scribbles something onto her clipboard and turns back to her monitor. She’s whistling a jaunty tune, pleased as punch with all the results of today’s checkup.
I, on the other hand, barely manage to muster up a nod.
Ever since the midnight not-quite-encounter with Dmitri in the nursery, I’ve been a hazy mess of memories and fantasies. Carrying on a normal conversation takes everything I’ve got in me.
“Wren, you okay?”
Dmitri leaves his position by the window and strides over to the examination table I’ve been splayed across for the entirety of the appointment. I try to sit up a little, but instead, I just slide helplessly down on the table like a beached whale.
“Fine,” I reply, but it comes out all croaky.
“Are you sure?” His eyebrows are hitting the roof of his forehead. “You seem like you’re… far away.”
As Dr. Liza excuses herself and steps out of the room, I swallow hard, trying to articulate what I’m feeling. I find myself producing weird, garbled sounds, not words.
“Hey, hey,” Dmitri croons. “It’s okay. I know. This is overwhelming.”
“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I don’t know why I’m being such a spaz. I’ve had almost ten months to prepare for this.”
“You were preparing to have a baby that you would hand over to your sister and brother-in-law.” It amazes me how he can bring them up so casually. “You were prepared to be an aunt, not a mother.”
Panic. That’s what I’m feeling. I shake my head again and again. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I’m?—”
“Of course you are.”
