A taxi pulls over in front of the gate as the clock strikes seven in the evening. As I exit, I see Mr. Prescott's Mercedes getting out of the house. The headlights flash in my direction and soon the car halts. 

I walk over slowly, wondering what's happening. Surprise washes over me when I learn that Liam is inside the car, and in a few seconds he strides out and slams the backdoor heavily. My heartbeat accelerates as our eyes meet.

"Are you okay?" Liam asks flatly, a small furrow between his eyebrows.

He's still dressed the same way he was this morning, which can only mean he hasn't been home longer.

"I am," I reply in a low voice. "Are you heading somewhere?"

"Get in the car," he orders monotonously, neglecting my query.

"Okay." I don't reproach him. 

Obediently, I clamber inside the car and the two of us sit in the back, saying no word. It's scary, but I'm too overwhelmed with my health matters  to be afraid of my husband right now. 

"We can go back," Liam says, talking to Mr. Prescott who's silent in his driver seat. 

The engine roars and the gate slides open once again. Mr. Prescott drives back inside, and it's already too dark to call it early—which is so weird given that I'd be roaming in Venice without worrying a thing if I were back in L.A.

We head straight to our bedroom once we reach inside the house. I drop my bag gently on the bedside table, step out of my heels, tired, both physically and emotionally, before glancing up at Liam who's locking the door behind him. 

"Where have you been?" he asks casually, his voice dry. He doesn't sound angry, but rather displeased.  

"I was at the park," I reply. 

"The park?" Liam scoffs, shaking his head to the sides. "And you decided to ignore my calls? You didn't even bother letting anyone know of your whereabouts, Kira! Do you have any idea how worried I was?" he snaps angrily.

I don't know how to respond, so I just stare at him. Huffing, he takes a deep breath, his face darker as he tries to be cool, eyeing me.

"What's wrong with you, Kira? Can you at least say something? You owe me an explanation, don't you think?" He's agitated, anger and confusion clouding his intelligence. 

As for me, I'm just thinking of ways to break the news to him. How do I say that I'm not going to get him a child as he wishfully thinks? Suppose I do it, how will he react? It drives me nuts. 

"I'm sorry about not picking your calls. I don't even know how I missed them," I start, and he doesn't seem to understand anything. "Besides, it's only seven and I'm home already, so I don't understand why you're fussing." I begin unbuttoning my coat.

"Fussing." Liam smirks, unappreciative of my comment. "This is London, Kira! You're new here, and just so you know . . . Seven in here, especially during Winter, is like midnight in Los Angeles! Why did you go to the hospital again?"

Jesus! Not the hospital talk. 

"I told you I wanted to talk to Dr. Adams regarding our plans to have a child, didn't I?" I peel the coat off my body.

"That was yesterday, Kira! Why did you go today?" Liam demands profusely. 

I look at him, at his beautiful blue eyes that I almost imagined them on the tiny face of a little girl or boy, and all I see is grand hurt and disappointment I'm about to cause him.

But no, I can't tell him right away. I still need to finish my session with Dr. Adams. I need to understand my condition clearly, including possible means to address it.

"Liam, I'm tired. Can't we just forget about today and move on?" I suggest, exhausted.

"You know it takes a single phone call for me to know where you've been today and everything you did, right? Is that what you want?" Liam states bitterly. 

"You wouldn't dare do that!" I retort, glaring warningly at him with gritted teeth. "Because if you do I'll never forgive you, Liam! Why are you getting angry, huh? Because I got home late? I'm here now, Liam, so get over it. And for God's sake, I'm not a teenager! I can take care of myself, I can go places on my own, and I definitely don't need to be patronized by you or anyone!" 

I'm feeling stuffed inside and I can't find an outlet. I want to yell, I want to scream, yet I know none of that will undo the harm living in my body. 

"For Christ's sake, Kira, are you sick?" Liam's voice comes out gentle, surprise evident on his face. He moves even closer to me, worried. "Tell me. Are you sick? Is something wrong with you?"

Maybe I am sick. Something is definitely wrong with my body and that's why I can't do a simple task that nature has bestowed upon the female race. I'm a useless woman. 

Liam sighs impatiently. "Kira—"

"Don't worry, Liam, I'm not sick," I answer calmly, interrupting him. He stills his gaze on mine, and it's apparent how confused I make him feel. "I needed to be alone today and that's why I asked Mr. Prescott to leave me," I explain partially.

"You could have told me so," he deadpans. "You could've at least let me know in advance so I wouldn't have to worry."

"Okay, I'm sorry. Next I'll let you know in advance." I try not to argue because it'll only drain my energy further, and anger him even deeper.

I head toward the dressing room, holding my heels and coat. I leave Liam standing, watching me. I'm positive he has plenty of questions to ask me, and I pray he doesn't do it tonight. He's right, however, that I owe him an explanation on this.

The dressing room feels cold. I flash the lights on and place my things in their rightful place. My earrings follow, and the watch slides off my wrist a few seconds later. Sighing, I arch my back to grab the back zipper of my dress.

"Do I suffocate you?" I suddenly hear this as I begin unzipping my dress with difficulty.

I don't get the chance to turn around when my husband nears me. He stands behind me, gently pulling my hair together so he can free my back and help me undress. He knows my weakness, and I adore his help. 

"You said you wanted to be alone today. You don't want to be patronized, and . . ." His voice fades, and smoothly my hair falls onto one side of my shoulder up to my chest. "Do I make you feel all that?"

A soft breath slips from my lips. 

"A little," I confess. "I feel like too many changes are happening at once and it's overwhelming at times. I'm trying to adjust, Liam. This life in a huge house, maids to attend almost every need of mine, a chauffeur to take me places . . . It's all new to me. I'm not complaining that it's not good, I just don't want it all at once."

"Can you explain further?" His hand clutches the zipper and slowly he slides it down. "Unless you want me to fire the maids, the chauffeur, and let you live the same life you lived as Ms. Jones."

I burst into giggles. That's my husband! His sense of humor is disastrous.

"I won't let you fire anyone at my expense, Mr. Darcy," I reply, and I believe we're back into our usual couple mood. "I just need my personal space from time to time. I don't need Mr. Prescott to take me everywhere. I want to drive on my own, to take a taxi or bus when I feel like, without having my husband bursting in flames of anger. I want to cook for you, to clean when I feel like, without being questioned by anyone."

Gosh, I just want to feel useful. Being jobless is one thing I'm trying hard to be patient with, and now everyone expects me to be a fragile queen who's just Mrs. King?

Hell no!

Silence settles for a good while, and I realize the dress is already loose despite Liam's presence behind me. He's thoughtful, and I hold my breath waiting.

"Okay, we'll do it your way," he finally says. I turn around to face him, and he looks defeated, every feature of his face relaxed. "And all the household matters are already in your hands, Mrs. Darcy.  If you prefer to cook, to clean, to turn everything around to your liking, I won't question—and no one else will. But if you go out alone, all I need is to know where you are because I'll go nuts otherwise."

I lodge my thoughts on his last line, taking longer than necessary to smile at the way it sounds. He's so fastidious, I swear.

"That's fair enough," I reply, hoping to at least see his smile. But he doesn't give me any. I move closer and wrap my arms around his neck. "I know I'm quite a disappointment to you sometimes. And maybe in near future you'd start questioning your decision to—"

"I don't know what you're trying to say, but alas you're not a disappointment to me," Liam says crisply. "I'm sure it won't be that easy for us to stand in the same line on everything, but I'm positive we can find a common ground around things. You and I, Mrs. Darcy, can always reach into an agreement." He gives me that smile and our lips meet at last. 

I let myself dissolve in his arms, hugging him tighter while kissing each other passionately. More than ever before, tonight I just want to be in his arms and feel his warmth. I don't want anything more but his embrace. 

"Did you eat?" Liam asks all of a sudden, the fervent mood vanishing into a thin cold air. He pulls back to get a glimpse of my faulted face. "Did you have lunch, Kira?" he rephrases his question.

I didn't. How could I with everything going on in my mind? I sigh. 

"It better be the truth, Kira. Did you, or did you not?" Liam gives me a tight look.

Jeez! I start laughing.

"You treat me as if I'm five, Liam. Yes, I didn't. But it won't be the end of the world, will it? It's just lunch. I can have dinner and problem solved."

Liam sighs heavily, seemingly in a battle to stay poised for my own good. "Fine. Let's have dinner," he utters cagily.

He's even smiling, and it makes me wonder if we'll remain this way when I tell him about my fertility defects. 

Will he smile at me the way he's doing it right now? Will he kiss me and hug me tightly saying 'It's okay, my love'? 

"Then I shouldn't take my dress off yet," I tell him, and like a cue he zips it up. "Thanks." I smile.

On our way out Liam asks, "Do you still want to go to the party on Friday? I recall how ballistic you turned just because I rejected the invitation."

What? I glare at him sharply.

"No, I didn't go ballistic because of that!" I deny stoutly. Liam quirks up an eyebrow, grinning. "And I wasn't angry last night because we are not going to the party, Liam. I only didn't appreciate that you refused to do it because of me. Or better yet, because of the pretty ballerina who happens to be your ex girlfriend." I roll my eyes. 

Liam chuckles, highly amused.

"Well, you gave me no choice. Every time she  shows up, you start behaving like a cheated wife," he replies matter-of-factly while slamming the door shut.

"Ha! I never act like a cheated wife, Liam! It just irritates me the way she looks at you as if she has something huge to say. It's like she's not done with you, and she's just waiting for the chance to get back to you," I blurt out my inner concerns about Scarlet. 

Frankly, she makes me wary for some reason I can't explain. 

"Really? I don't think she's done any of that," Liam says, and I'm sure he thinks I'm overreacting. "I believe it's the fact she's my ex girlfriend that torments you."

"No, Liam. She's . . . You know what, let's just go and have dinner." I start moving. 

"Okay, no more talking about her," Liam says, discerning that I'm already pissed off. "We are going to the party on Friday. Be ready."

"We are?" I gaze up at him, surprised somehow.

"Yes, my love. It's time I show my wife to the whole world." He grips all of a sudden, his arms around my stomach as he hauls me back onto his chest. I giggle softly. "You're mine, Mrs. Darcy, and I'm yours. Don't let anything mislead you otherwise. I love you." He kisses my cheek. 

"And I you. Always." I shut my eyes to indulge the moment, erasing everything but this moment. "Please don't ever leave me," I whisper.

"Sometimes I wonder where you get such livid thoughts," Liam replies. "But I shall not get tired to remind you that we belong together. You, me, and the kids we are going to have. I can't wait to see your belly grow big, Mrs. Darcy." He gently pats my tummy, and tears burn in my eyes. "You'll be so beautiful. And I know you'll make a great mother to our kids."

Will I? How? I mentally laugh, for I feel like fate is making fun of me.