Arsen: a broken love story - Asher Mia - Страница 23
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The setting sun casts an amber glow to everything in the park including his beautiful tanned face and his dark curls that are flying in reckless abandon. I move from his embrace, then turn to straddle his lap so that we’re facing each other. I run my hands through his hair as I watch his smirk turn into an open smile.
“Your hair is getting really long, baby.”
“Can’t cut it, babe,” he answers, keeping his eyes closed.
“How did you know I was going to suggest a trim? And why not?” I ask.
“My hot wife digs it.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You heard me, woman.” He opens his eyes and stares at me with so much love. “I like the feel of your hands running through my hair.” He leans over me, whispering in my ear, “It reminds me of the dirty things you let me do to you when you pull it. Plus the hot interns like it.”
“Hot interns?”
Ben laughs when he sees my expression. “Is my woman getting jealous?”
“Jealous?” I ask, frowning. Maybe I am.
“Babe, chill…I’m just teasing you. I don’t care about the interns. I only care whether you like it or not, and if I’m being honest, you pull my hair when I am making you come…hard… and it fucking turns me on.” He licks my ear.
I can’t help the shiver that runs through my body.
“Ben… not here,” I protest.
He chuckles.
“Then let’s go,”
“You ass. No, we’re not going anywhere. We’re staying here.” I elbow him.
“Cathy…It’s been too long. Come on.” He wraps his arms around my waist and nuzzles my neck.
Feeling a hint of the intimacy we shared before I became a failure as a woman return, I want to open up to him and just talk to him. Share my inner demons. Maybe if I explain to him how I feel, the emptiness will go away.
I’m about to tell him that we should leave and head home when he kisses me sweetly on the cheek. I slowly turn my face and kiss him on the lips desperately. I need his kiss to hold me here. To this life. To him.
When our lips part, we look at each other as we breathe heavily. Ben’s arms are wrapped around me, all of me, and it feels good for the first time in a very long time.
“Babe, what’s the matter? I can see something is bothering you. Why don’t you tell me? You know I’ll do everything and anything you ask of me as long as it’s in my power to do so.” He kisses my nose, then moves his hands to cup my ass.
I laugh because as soon as his hands touch my ass, he wiggles his eyebrows and leers at me, looking like a pervert. I decide to come clean to Ben.
“Watching all these children play…it has made me think.”
“About what, babe?”
“Um, I’m just so afraid, baby. I-I feel like a failure because I-I haven’t—”
“Stop, Cathy. I hate when you do this to yourself. Stop thinking about it. There are so many options that we can try…so many options still available to us.”
“No…let me finish, please,” I plead. Ben seems annoyed, but he lets me continue. “I want to tell you this. I’m just so afraid that it will never happen. I truly thought the IVF treatment was going to work. I really did.” I feel tears gather in the back of my throat, but I can’t stop now. “What if we can’t...never…”
Ben places a warm finger on my mouth. “Shh…don’t be so negative. We could always go back to see the adoption lawyer, you know. I don’t mind.”
“No, no, no. Ben, that’s too much. I’m not sure I could handle it...the not knowing.”
“Then why don’t you try and be a little bit more positive?”
His words are like a slap to the face. I’m trying to be honest with him for once, and he keeps shutting me down, almost as if my worries aren’t important enough.
“Babe, I just think you’re going about it all wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hell, Cathy, I don’t know. I just think you’re too negative sometimes. I believe you have this mindset that everything won’t work out.” He caresses my cheek, but his touch isn’t welcome this time. “Babe, don’t be angry. I just think you have to be more positive about it. We’ll make it work.”
“But—” I want to ask him what happens if it doesn’t, but he stops me.
“But nothing. I can see the subject is affecting you. Let’s drop it, okay?”
No, it’s not okay. But Ben seems to have decided it’s time to drop it, so I do. Shrugging my shoulders, I move to stand, but Ben stops me.
“Hey,” he cups my cheeks, “Look at me, love. Don’t be angry. I just want you to stop blaming yourself and thinking the worst. It’s not healthy.”
I don’t want to look at him anymore. I want to tell him that I’m entitled to think whatever I want, but I don’t. Deep down, I know he’s right because I know all those things.
My mind knows. However, try telling it to my heart.
Ben stares at me, expecting me to say something, but I don’t.
There’s nothing else to say.
All I know is that it doesn’t matter anymore.
“Catherine? Are you there?” Arsen waves his hand in front of my face. “You were saying?”
“Oh, yes. Sorry.” I take a deep breath. “I’m pregnant, but I don’t want to get my hopes up. You see, about two years ago I was diagnosed with a condition known as habitual abortion or Recurrent Pregnancy Loss. My case was specifically unexplained RPL. Meaning, I could get pregnant but each pregnancy ended with me miscarrying without a cause. It just kept happening to me, and there was no valid explanation behind it since all the tests came back normal.”
Without saying empty words, Arsen reaches for my hand and holds it in his. “Go on.”
I look down at our hands, feeling his warm touch in mine, and I realize it makes me feel better.
“After my third miscarriage, it took us forever to get pregnant again. That condition is known as secondary infertility. We tried drugs, acupuncture, IVF, we saw specialists… the whole shebang. But nothing worked. I mean, Ben and I even saw an adoption lawyer, but after he explained to us the whole process of trying to adopt a baby and that even if we went through it all it wasn’t a guaranteed thing…” I pause, “I just couldn’t do it. It was much too painful, so we kind of gave up. Well, I gave up.”
I lick my lips, suddenly they feel dry. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.” I swallow hard. “I must be boring you to death.”
Arsen shakes his head. “No, go ahead, Dimples. I’m listening,” he encourages huskily, still holding my hand in his.
Staring at him, feeling the connection between us grow, I tell him what I can’t share with Ben. I really have no clue how Arsen is getting me to talk to him about my deepest fears in the middle of the day while sitting in a busy diner. Maybe it’s the understanding I see in his eyes, or the supportive grip on my hand, but somehow I know I have found a friend in him. One who won’t judge me.
“So now I’m pregnant again, and I’m so scared. I want to have faith and be positive about the pregnancy, but I can’t. There’s this constant fear that something will go wrong, a fear so powerful sometimes I can’t breathe. I look at my stomach and think that it’s too good to be true. And if something happens to the baby...I don’t know what will happen to me, Arsen. I don’t. I want my baby so much it’s hard to think of anything else.”
Arsen remains quiet for a minute as he studies our hands clasped together.
“If you ever feel like you need to talk to someone…if you ever feel like fear is making it hard for you to breathe…talk to me. I’m here for you, Dimples. I’m here.”
I know his words could be empty and that he’s just offering his help to be polite, but the powerful gleam in his eyes makes me believe him.
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