The next day, my phone is pinging with notifications. David shoots me a grateful text I don’t reply, I am sure he doesn’t expect one, we are not friends. My finger hovers over the delete option on his contact, I hesitate. It won’t hurt to have it so I save his number, something I had failed to do. Bored, I send Brandon an SOS and switch off my phone.

Time to take matters into my hands.

Bathed, shaved and clad in lace lingerie that barely holds my breasts and reveals my bump, I sit up, legs crossed while awaiting that click that will announce his entrance. He won’t talk to me like a normal person and now, I am pissed. And horny. And frustrated.

The click to signify his presence sounds, reverberating in the room. I shoot up from the bed as fast as a pregnant woman approaching her third semester can and saunter to the door, swinging my hips. Brandon eyes me from head to toe, the appreciative glint in his gaze is missing but I shrug that off. I am a woman on a mission, I will get what I want.

“How was work?” I ask, hands out to rid him of his tie. The subtle jerk of his upper body to avoid my touch, the way he grabs the tie from me stings and my hands drop to my sides. He mutters his usual noncommittal response, followed by a kiss to my forehead which I duck. Glaring at him, I say, “Kiss me on the lips, Brandon or don’t kiss me at all.”

His response is a nod. A curt nod that burns as much as being told to get out of his sight. Stifling the fast-rising anger, I lock the door and tuck the key in my bra. His jaw clenches, I hiss. Good. I am getting somewhere, I think until Brandon turns around and heads for the bathroom. I scoff, not today. He won’t get rid of me this easy and if he cannot talk to me about the issue niggling him, then we will have a big problem. His silence is draining.

Stomping behind him like a kid forced to stay home all day, I simmer quietly while he takes off his clothes without sparing me a glance. My breath hitches in my chest, a sob escapes me. What went wrong? I am the one who should be mad at him. First, he dumps Brianna on me. Josh dumps Brendan on me and David crowns it all with his suspicions.

He had his first real conversation with Josh because of me and I get the silent treatment in return for that. His singlet vanishes, I breathe in, out. What is wrong with this man?

“There’s only so much I can take,” I spit out when he makes to sidestep me. He pauses, his eyes scan my face. I sandwich one of his hands in mine. “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

His frown dissolves, he kisses my knuckles then buries his face in my hair to sniff me. “Everything is fine.” I nod, half-believing him. He fakes a smile. “Bad day at work, okay?”

“Even yesterday?” He cringes, I am not dumb. “And the day before that?” He reaches for my hands which fall to my sides, I shake my head. This has gone on for too long. All I asked was for him to share his burden and communicate. “What did I do? I apologised for inviting your parents and you already punished me for that. Isn’t that enough?”

Pulling his hair from the root, he groans, hiding his face behind his arms. I want to slap some sense into his head so bad. With his hands still in his scalp, he says, “It’s not that.”

Annoyed with him and myself for caring so much about him when all I get in return is half-assed replies, secrets and more walls between us, I yell, “Then what is it?” Brandon whimpers. In a soft voice, I add, “You keep pushing me away. Baby, talk to me. Please.”

“I can’t...”

Fatigue hits me, I stagger backwards. I am done. “You can’t or you won’t?” His mouth opens, I raise a hand, enough with his excuses. “Don’t bother. Bath, then we will talk.”

Turning on my heels, I don’t look back until I am back in the safety of our bed. My head spins from the confusion, his behaviour. As hard as I try, I don’t get it. Was it Josh’s gift? Did it trigger bad memories? Something is terribly wrong. I can feel it, almost taste it and it scares me. Because I have a feeling it’s outside my control. I can’t do anything.

I rub the back of my hand against my eyes, willing myself to stay awake but my body demands rest. Brandon is avoiding me. Why else isn’t he out yet? I stare at the bathroom door, my heart shrinking to the size of an apple as my head connects with the pillow.

The sound of retreating footsteps jolts me awake. I squint at the figure by the door and a mischievous smile curls my lips. “I have the key,” I say with the pride of a woman who has the world at her command. Sneaking a hand inside my bra, I smile. “Right here.”

Authority laces my voice when I say, “We need to talk.”

Brandon pales, I nod, there is no escaping me this time. I drop the key on the drawer, sit up and pat the spot beside me. He might as well have been crawling because he is not halfway across the room seconds later. In the end, I am forced to drag him to the bed.

“What’s the problem?” I whisper. “Is Brianna okay?” He nods and visibly gulps. I stroke the inside of his wrist, bring his hand to cup my cheek. A soft sigh leaves me when his free hand joins the first, I lean into his touch. “You’ve been avoiding me, what did I do?”

Brandon shakes his head and manages a tiny smile. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sorry.”

Afraid to ask, I close my eyes and murmur, “Is this about Brendan, your brother?”

“Yes.” His voice comes out strangled. “No.”

“Then what? Work?” Every nerve in my body screams it’s more than that but I say, “You can take tomorrow off.” Silence greets me, my gaze darts to his face and my breath hitches. Brandon is staring at me with, pity? Sadness? I don’t know but it scares me. “You’re freaking me out.” My hand lowers to caress my belly. “And the baby. Talk to me.”

“I...I...” His hands disappear from my face, he shifts to create more distance between us and his back hits the headboard. I plop myself right in front of him, sliding my hands into his boxers to stroke his thighs. “Elna,” he whispers, eyes glossing. My heart lurches in my chest, I straddle him, my nose rubbing against his. “Don’t make me say it. Please.”

Terrified, my hands slip from his neck but he locks his arms behind me. Dread courses through my veins, his panicked expression prompts me to ask, “Say what, Brandon?”

His mouth opens to say, “I...I fired Danielle.”

Relief floods me, my shoulders deflate and I bring a shaky hand over my mouth and my head bobs until I feel dizzy. God, he scared me, that is not a big deal. My heart resumes its usual rhythm. He had his reasons, I need to find them out. I let out a deep breath, his fingers moving along my spine forces my eyes to his handsome face and my heart stops.

Brandon is lying.

Maybe not but he didn’t mean to tell me about Danielle. He’s stalling. What has he done?

Putting up a smile, I trace his chest, kiss the top of his head, nose and press my mouth to the corner of his lips. He eyes me warily, I give him a chaste kiss. “Brandon, I need to-“

“Tomorrow.” I am ready to protest when he adds, “I promise. I will tell you everything.”

Everything.

The word holds promise and fear claws at my throat. I don’t want to know everything. Not anymore. I am scared. A tear leaks from the corner of my eye, I wipe it before he notices and bury my face in my palms. I might be paranoid, the pregnancy hormones might be messing with my emotions again. It happens more times than I can count.

Brandon grabs my hands to place around his neck, he mutters, “Hold me. Don’t let go.”

“I love you,” I tell him and I get a sad smile in return. But I don’t let go, I hold on to him, lips glued to his neck, wishing my bump wasn’t so big to prevent perfect body contact.

When my eyes start drooping, he pulls my head back intending to lower me to the bed but I press my lips to his. He is reluctant at first but his tongue slips into my mouth to perform a fiery tango with mine. I reach behind to unhook my bra, moaning into his mouth when he fondles my breasts with a care that forces tears out of my eyes.

We don’t explore our bodies as we rid each other of our flimsy clothing barriers, we don’t rush the process either. I grunt when he lowers me to his member, mouth flying open to release a growl. The communion of our bodies is a delicate mix between fast and gentle lovemaking with me on top while he guides me up and down his erection.

I throw my head back in bliss, moans spill from me at the pleasures ravaging my body. A thought knocks in my mind but I shove it out by bouncing gently on his dick. I come first but I continue riding him until he lets go. We stare at each other in silence, sated and all smiles with my heart overflowing with affection. This man right here is my whole world.

Minutes later, when we are all cleaned up, Brandon snuggles close to me with our naked bodies hidden under the cover. I bring his hand to my belly, he moans his approval and chuckles. I giggle, satisfied with the turn of events. Maybe all we needed was a release.

Sleep rears its head, rubbing his hand on my belly, I say, “Goodnight, baby. I love you.”

The feel of my husband’s firm chest pressed to my back plus the vibration of his chest when he wishes me a pleasant night rest has my eyes closing. Right before I am lured to Dreamland, maybe I am already there for I hear him say, “Baby. Please don’t leave me.”