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No. “Happy” is too strong a word considering I’ve been stolen from my family and forced into a marriage I don’t want with a man who’s stalked me for a decade. But I do feel hopeful. Optimistic, even. I don’t know what happened during that impromptu swim of his, but Alexei used a condom each time he fucked me afterward. And there were a lot of times. Four? Five? I honestly lost track.
I wanted to ask what’s changed. As we lay there last night, drunk with pleasure, our sweaty bodies tangled together, I had the opportunity. But I didn’t dare bring up this topic lest whatever switch flipped in him were to flip back. I didn’t dare speak at all, so instead, I drowsed in his arms, letting myself drift in that dreamy twilight between sleep and awareness, until he hardened for the umpteenth time and the madness began all over again.
I’m alone in the cabin, so I take my time getting up. I feel lazy, like the aforementioned cat. And sleepy, even though I caught a decent amount of shut-eye in-between all the sex. Even the thought of getting my hands on a computer doesn’t motivate me to move any faster this morning, though I do finally get myself out of bed by picturing in great detail the next boss I’m going to design.
Yawning, I stumble to the bathroom and take a long, hot shower, hoping it wakes me up. It doesn’t. I don’t even feel like blow-drying my hair or putting on my makeup, but I force myself to do it anyway, so I don’t feel the way I did yesterday, when I thought the sight of my naked body turned Alexei off. It didn’t, clearly, but some stupid, vain part of me is still afraid it might happen one day. I feel sick just thinking about that possibility. Or… maybe I just feel sick.
Come to think of it, my head is woolly in that cold/flu sort of way, and I’m again a tiny bit nauseated.
Could I be coming down with something?
I swallow exaggeratedly.
Nope, no sore throat.
My nose isn’t running either.
And I don’t think I’m getting one of my headaches.
Everything inside me goes cold.
No. No, no, no.
Frantically, I count the days I’ve been here—and exhale in relief.
Even if I were pregnant, I wouldn’t be having symptoms so early on. The first time Alexei and I had sex was four days ago. I’m no ob-gyn, but I’m pretty sure women start getting symptoms way later than that. Like weeks or months later. This is way too soon.
My head begins to throb, and for the first time ever, I welcome the sensation. That’s what my strange malaise must be about: an impending headache. Not pregnancy. It can’t be pregnancy.
We’re using condoms now, for fuck’s sake.
Breakfast. That’s what I need, even if my stomach disagrees at the moment. I need to eat before the headache gets any worse, and then I’ll request another encounter with Vika’s magic needles.
I’m not pregnant. I refuse to be.
Alexei catches me in the hallway just as I step out of the cabin. Underneath his tattooed, muscular arm is a laptop—a big, chunky one, the kind that has serious power.
Budding headache or not, I practically salivate at the sight.
“Is that for me?” I ask breathlessly, not taking my eyes off the prize.
“Loaded with all the software and tools you’ll need,” Alexei replies, sounding amused, and hands it to me.
I grab it eagerly. It’s heavy, like a proper gaming computer should be. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
There’s a genuine smile on Alexei’s lips and a warm glow in his dark gaze. “You’re quite welcome, Alinyonok. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
Freedom. The last decade of my life back. To have never met you. The cutting replies pop into my mind but don’t leave my lips. For once, I’m not inclined to take potshots at him, and it’s not because of all the orgasms my body vividly remembers.
It feels like something has changed between us. Something ineffable yet vital.
“I could use another session with Vika,” I say, tucking the computer under my arm. “It really helped the last time.”
Alexei’s smile vanishes. “You have another headache?”
“The start of one, I think.”
It feels a little different, this one, but I don’t tell him that. Nor do I mention the fact that I’m suddenly feeling dizzy.
Not pregnancy. Please don’t let me be pregnant.
“All right.” He takes the laptop from me and shepherds me back into the cabin, where he places the laptop on a chair. “Go back to bed. I’ll have Vika come with breakfast and her acupuncture kit.”
I’m tempted to argue—I’m all dressed and sunblocked—but my dizziness is intensifying, and black dots are dancing at the corners of my vision. I need to lie down, now, before I have another embarrassing fainting episode.
