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“Spill,” she demanded, using her manager-voice.

“I—”

“You don’t want to talk here? Okay, I get that. There is a coffee shop a few blocks away, come on,” she said, tugging at my arm.

Orders received, I had to obey. She had that effect on a lot of people. An ineffable force of personality, drawing all into her orbit.

We left and she escorted me to the café.

I ordered a couple of mochas.

“Mocha for me, green tea for you,” she corrected me.

The barista shrugged and rang us up.

“Thanks.”

Stephanie eased into the chair. Karin was asleep in the snuggly on her chest.

“How long?” she asked, blowing the steam off her mocha, and taking a sip.

“How far along am I or how long have I known?”

“Whichever you like.”

“Almost two months.”

“Okay, does Varg know?”

“Not yet. He kind of thinks I’m on the pill. Stupid, I know, but I didn’t want to ruin things.”

“Won’t it ruin things more if you don’t tell him and he finds out anyway?” she asked, blowing out a breath.

“Ashe, the lie was stupid, I agree. But the only thing to do now is tell the truth and let him know he is going to be a dad. Trust me, I know from experience.”

The truth was painful but clear. I couldn’t live with the guilt anymore. It sat heavily, in my stomach, even more so than the prenatal nausea.

It wasn’t the best plan ever devised by God or man, but I resolved to tell him that night.

Chapter Fifteen – Ashe

“Hey, where’d you disappear to?” Varg asked, once Stephanie and I returned to the concert.

“Girl stuff,” Stephanie said, greeting Varg with a kiss.

“Ah, right.”

Varg put an arm around me, my head pulled to his chest like magic. I needed to tell him, but not here.

“Can we go home?”

“Of course.”

Giving him my keys, we took the Volvo back to the house, the van promised to Stig.

We sat in silence, Varg seeming to know not to push. Instead, we entered the abode, secrets hanging over us like a thunderhead.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.”

“Come here.”

Leading him into the living room we sat on the storied couch, my mind swimming for the words.

“What’s up?”

“Um, you know that time, when we first fucked and you came in me?”

“Sure.”

“Well I– I’ve been reading, about sex and stuff, wanting to be good for you.”

“Oh, honey, you’re great. I love being with you, learning things together.”

“I know, I mean, I agree, I just want to be my best for you, and I found out that cum can have an anti-depressant effect.”

“You’re depressed?” Varg asked, concerned.

That was the question.

I was a bit, but not for the reason he likely thought. It would have been a good time to come clean, but I’ve never been good at the obvious.

“A little yeah, nothing too bad. Just a general ennui, if that doesn’t sound too Shakespearean. I was hoping you would do it again.”

“Come on.”

He took me by the hand and brought me to the promised land. Or, at least our bedroom.

It felt better with my clothes off. Even if I didn’t know why.

Trouble cleared out of my mind as he lapped his tongue over my pussy. He shoved his head between my wide-open legs, getting me ready. I wasn’t a virgin anymore, but needed some prep before taking his massive cock.

“Position?” he asked.

“From behind.”

It was another new thing we liked. Also, I wasn’t able to face him without wanting to cry. He’d been so good to me!

And I couldn’t even tell him the truth!

I jolted, just a little, as he pushed in. More pleasure than I deserved flowed through me. I understood why people did it this way, despite the awkward angle.

Perfect as always, he filled me with joy. He grabbed onto my hips as he tenderly worked my pussy.

I could have cried.

A Molotov cocktail of joy and shame, blasted away as he filled me, at my request.

At least I couldn’t get any more pregnant.

Chapter Sixteen – Varg

I was awakened by something that sounded like woodpeckers knocking on a tree. I saw the tiny lit screen and all hope died.

Why I had decided on this for a ringtone for my mother was beyond my comprehension.

A call this early was never good, especially considering the vagaries of time zones. Dread had followed a few paces behind, as I tried to put it out of my mind. The knock continued until I was forced to respond.

“Hi, Mama.”

“Peter, honey. I’m sorry, is it early? I forgot about the difference.”

“It’s fine, what’s going on?”

“You have to get here.”

“To Bergen?”

“Yes, please she— I can’t—” she paused; her voice choked with a sudden sob.

Two guesses who ‘she’ was, and neither of them were good. Either mom was speaking in the third person, or it had happened. The thing we’d been worried about for years.

Gripped by primordial dread, I moved.

Bed to closet, closet to door, a bag on my shoulder I didn’t remember packing. Fugue fog was clouding my mind and closing out all the rest of the world.

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