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Jay was not one of those little boys. He was all man. He was not scared or grossed out by a little blood. Not by a long shot. And I thought I would feel uncomfortable or gross about it—because that’s how society wanted us to feel—but I fucking loved it.
So yes, Jay had to know that I was no longer on the injection because Jay definitely noticed the changes, but he did not say a single word. Nor did he stop finishing inside of me. It had been months of that and ... nothing. Sure, a baby wouldn’t be ideal right now, not with a wedding to plan, being busy at work, Jay and me settling in to a new normal. Oh, and Jay’s mysterious, definitely illegal business of running the underworld of L.A.
Yeah, I should probably get more details about that before I worried about getting impregnated by this man. But I couldn’t get my mind off a little dark-haired baby with Jay’s eyes, in his muscled arms ... yeah, that made my womb clench.
I was trying not to worry about the fact my aforementioned womb may or may not be barren after all the sex we’d had without protection. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about.
It was in the midst of all that that I realized that I was not alone in the house.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” I shrieked when I walked into the kitchen, seeing a woman in the fridge, her back to me.
I had no idea why I was apologizing to the strange woman who was in Jay’s—actually mine now too, I guessed—house. But I did, out of instinct, shock, whatever.
Felicity, it must’ve been. I was surprised that I’d lived here for two months and hadn’t run into her. Her presence was everywhere, in the immaculately clean house, the laundry that was done, the freshly ironed sheets. The woman ironed fucking sheets. The illusive woman who seemed to be the only permanent female fixture in Jay’s life, the woman who cooked for him, cleaned for him and as it seemed, shopped for him. It made sense. I couldn’t exactly see Jay in a Whole Foods. It hit me then that the two of us had never even been in a supermarket together. And we were engaged to be married. A seemingly benign chore for most couples, the norm, yet something completely foreign to us.
But that was not something to dwell on, not with Felicity standing in the kitchen, in the flesh, at last.
I’d imagined her to be an older, round Italian woman for some reason. Not a woman wearing expensive tailored pants that showed off an extremely perky ass and a tiny waist.
Her dark hair was in curls down her back, and the arm that was depositing almond milk—my favorite brand—into the fridge was sculpted and tanned.
“Felicity, right?” I asked, moving forward, my voice warm despite feeling unsteady at the fact that Felicity seemed to be smokin’ hot. “I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you,” I continued, forcing warmth into my voice, hating the acrid taste of jealousy crawling up my throat.
It was far too cliché to be threatened by an attractive woman in the employ of my soon to be husband. I trusted Jay, didn’t I? Knew that he loved me beyond measure, that he could be cruel and ugly, but he’d never be a man who cheated. If he didn’t want me, he’d end things.
Though that didn’t make me feel much better.
It all got worse when the woman turned. It all came crashing down.
I stopped in my tracks as Felicity turned on her red soled heel. Her face was guarded, expression tentative but not threatening. Sad, almost. Just like it had been that night. The first night out with Jay. The woman in the red dress, the one who had most certainly been one of Jay’s women, who he had touched, owned. Whose heart and soul he had stolen.
And he had not discarded her. No. She was here. In his house. Stocking his fucking fridge. My blood was cold, and I was frozen in place, blinking rapidly at the gorgeous woman in front of me.
“Stella,” she said, her voice low, throaty. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you’d be here, otherwise—”
“It’s fine,” I waved my hand, forcing a smile onto my face. “I had a client, and they cancelled last minute, so I decided to come home early, take a bath. I have a big stack of books that’s only growing since I keep buying new ones without reading the old ones,” I babbled. “I’ve decided to make it a goal to put time aside every single day to read a little since it’s meant to be good for you. And I need to just slow down, you know?”
Oh. My. God. Why was I still speaking? Still babbling about fucking books in the beautiful face of Jay’s ex ... whatever. The one who had meant enough to him to let in to his life. The fortress he’d kept so tight even I hadn’t explored the entirety of it.
