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“Shut up and drive, I swear to fucking God,” he replied, and said nothing else for the entirety of the trip.
I’m sitting in the visiting area where inmates meet their friends and loved ones. It’s a cold, depressing room, designed to hit home the fact that many of these men on the other side of this wall will never be able to hold their family in their arms again. It's a cruel place. One filled with hopelessness, hate, and despair. And, it’s where I sit now, awaiting Lucien.
The room by itself is antiseptic. There is a table, divided by glass. A guard sits in a small cubicle with a door that leads to my side of the room and one that leads to the side of the room Lucien will sit in. The glass is thick—at least three inches. It’s unbreakable. A closed circuit camera is affixed on the ceiling on either side of the room, watching our movements. Recording our emotions.
I notice all this but stop as I see the door open toward the prison.
A familiar face walks in and I gasp to myself. Even despite the fact that some time has passed, I can’t help but be mesmerized by this man. Even despite the fact that he betrayed me, that he destroyed everything I had done to build myself back up bit by bit, I can’t help but repress a shudder of excitement. And even though he shattered my trust, the reptilian part of my brain thinks back to how that long, thick cock had felt in my hands as I had rubbed it, caressed it, licked it, and sucked it. I can’t help but feel a little tingle down between my legs despite the circumstances.
Lucien’s eyes seem to look me up and down as he scans the room. He stares for a few seconds at the guard and I join him to see what he finds so interesting.
But just as suddenly, Lucien’s standing in front of me, with only inches of glass separating us. I pick up the phone and place it to my ear as Lucien sits down.
“Kerri…” Lucien starts.
But I haven’t forgotten the reason I’m here. Don’t worry. Left on my own, I would never be here. Or at least that’s what I’m telling you right now. But who knows? Because now that I'm here, I wonder why I didn’t come before. If only to gaze at the man I love. At the father of the baby I’m carrying.
If I do nothing else today, I should tell him that he’s going to be a father. Because despite the danger that I’m in, and the hurt that he’s caused me, I somehow still love this man.
“Lucien, I need to tell you something…” I begin, but this time he interrupts me.
“I need to tell you something first,” he says and this time he doesn’t stop or give me a chance to say anything. “I know why you’re here. Are you okay?”
That takes me by surprise. Was he a part of this? No, it can’t be.
“The Deputy Marshall,” Lucien says, leaning closer to me, as if whispering, while actually talking into the phone. “He’s dirty, right?”
I nod. I don’t know if they’re recording this. Lucien glances at the guard to see if he’s gotten any reaction. But the guard simply sits there, watching us. Of course they have the power to tap our conversation, but apparently they aren’t giving any credence to what Lucien is saying. Deputy Marshall must have realized that when he brought me here. He just didn't care.
“Are you okay?” Lucien asks.
I nod again. I wonder if Lucien is part of this.
“Those fuckers,” Lucien growls to himself and I start to think that he had no control over me sitting here. “If I ever get a chance to I’ll kill them myself.”
That’s when I start to believe that most likely Lucien had no intention of bringing me back to this place.
“I need to tell you something…” I try again, but again he interrupts me.
Remind me if I ever get out of this place to tell Lucien how much I hate it when he interrupts me. It’s almost as if I wasn’t—
“I love you so much, Kerri Curtis,” Lucien says, looking at me. His fingers touch the wall that separates us. “I fucking love you so fucking much.”
Well, that stops me short.
I remain silent. Thinking of all the feelings of betrayal. The anger. The Ben & Jerry’s.
“Baby,” I say slowly, not looking at his face. I pause and take a deep breath. Here goes fucking nothing, as Lucien would put it. “I’m pregnant.”
I look up at him to see his reaction. Will it be anger? Joy? Despair at being behind bars?
“We’re pregnant,” I say again to him as his face registers no surprise. “You and I. It’s your baby.”
There’s nothing from Lucien. I start to worry. I mean, most men would have some reaction, right?
Finally, Lucien speaks.
“I know,” he says simply.
