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I paused, smiling. “No, it never has before.”
“Good. Open the door.”
“Did you…?”
“Open… the… door.”
I hesitated, saying a quick prayer. I didn’t want to be the reason. The door was unlocked, and I stepped back from any danger. He held out his hand through the crack in the door. I put the cloth in his hand and he pulled the door shut. He knocked again, and I tried to swallow back my fear.
"I'm coming in."
As the door opened, Raphael stood there in the doorway looking spectacular. I took him in, feet to head, before giggling at the makeshift blindfold.
“That good, huh?”
“Better than you know,” I exhaled. My Raphael.
“Are you going to let me make sure that you’re OK?”
I moved closer, standing just before him.
“Closer.”
I did.
“Even closer.”
Again, I did. I guess I should mention that they were small steps.
Raphael leaned forward and crushed me against his chest, putting his arms around my waist just like he used to. Cue the swoon.
“This. I haven’t gotten to do exactly this and I’ve wanted to for weeks.” Raphael’s voice was low but sure. “It just seems right.”
“It’s how you always held me.” His hands spread over the top of my butt and up my sides, heating my skin. I inhaled, basking in the glory of his touch. This moment was fantastic. The only thing that could have been more perfect was if I could see his eyes. There was a flutter across my stomach at the same time that Raphael’s fingertips grazed it just before my stomach catapulted and pushed toward my throat suddenly. Moment ruined.
I turned and ran into the bathroom, expelling all the contents of my stomach. Violently. Not once, not twice, but three times back to back. I grunted, cursing the man standing in the doorway. This was all his damn fault.
“You’re never touching me again,” I swore as I rested my head on my arm that held me up from the sink. I’d washed my mouth for the fourth time in a row.
“I didn’t mean to make you sick.” His voice seemed distant, though he was right here.
“No, I don’t mean the way you just did. I mean, the way you did five months ago that put me in my current condition.”
“Condition?”
Fuck! I pinched my eyes closed, regretful of my slip of the tongue. He wasn’t supposed to know yet.
“I… ah… I…um...”
“Are you pregnant? Is that what that movement was before you ran in here? The shift in your stomach?”
Thoughts swarmed. To confirm or not to confirm?
“Anise?”
I looked up to see Raphael standing in the doorway, blindfold still intact. I wanted to tell him the truth. When I told him, I wanted to see his face. More than anything else, I wanted him to remember how we got there. I rinsed my mouth again with Listerine before standing. Trembling hands covered my mouth. Tired. That was the only word that I could think of. Well, that and defeated.
I'm tired of not being enough. Tired of waiting. Tired of needing. I don't want to have my happily ever after when it wouldn't come. Defeated by all the things that seemed to push us apart. Defeated by a man that would never be what I wanted him to be. Mine. That’s all. And this glorious gift that all women wanted to give their men. I couldn’t. It wasn’t allowed. Just like his heart. It wasn’t allowed to love me. And while I’ve wanted him to be this close for what feels like forever, it hurt more than not being able to have my Raphael.
