Chapter 9 #2
“Then I’m going to spell it out in great detail because I want to be certain you’re fully informed about every aspect of sexuality. If you already know some parts, great. If you don’t, you’ll learn.” He strokes my hair back with one hand, cupping my head with the other.
I sigh and roll my eyes. “Adam, I know you have a penis and it goes in my vagina and something comes out of it that can put a baby in me.”
“That’s right. Are your periods regular, sweetheart?”
I inhale deeply, mortified. My mother spoke to me a handful of times about menstruation and how to make babies. It’s not the sort of thing I ever pictured discussing with another living person, even if he is my husband.
“No secrets, Rebekah.”
“Sheesh,” I breathe out. “I don’t have a period very often. I think it’s because I’m small.”
“That’s probably true. When you gain some weight, you’ll become more regular. Did you see the pads and tampons on the bed earlier?”
“Yes,” I whisper. Is he done yet?
“I’ve put them in the bathroom. Have you ever used tampons?”
“No.”
“When did you last have a period?”
“Adam!” I twist to the side, trying to avoid him, but he has me caged in.
“Rebekah, sweetheart, you’re my wife. I will know every intimate thing about you. Do you think you could have a period and I wouldn’t find out?”
I nod.
“Well, you won’t. I intend to be all up in your business, sweetheart.
Once I’ve been inside your body, we’ll be doing that regularly.
At least once a day. The moment you have a cramp, I’ll know.
When you bleed, I’ll see it on your panties.
When you need pads or tampons, I’ll get you more.
” His voice dips. “And, Rebekah, when you miss a period, I will know that, too. What does it mean if you stop having a period?”
I draw in a deep breath. “That I’m pregnant.” A shudder wracks my body.
“How do you feel about getting pregnant?”
I frown. “What difference does it make?” Especially if he intends to put his thingy in me every day. That part has been so stunning, I’m struggling to focus.
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
I turn my face to his. He’s so bossy. But also really kind about it. He’s not exasperated with me. He simply wants me to be informed about things I never expected to discuss with any man, not even my husband.
“Good girl. Do you know how people prevent pregnancy?”
“No.” Is that a thing?
“There are several ways. One is that a woman can take a daily pill or get an injection that keeps her body from releasing an egg every month. Without the egg, there is nothing for the man’s sperm to latch onto.”
“Oh.”
“But easier than that is a product called condoms. They look like balloons before they are inflated. A man puts one over his cock so that when he ejaculates, his semen is trapped in the tip of the balloon and doesn’t go into the woman.
It’s not one hundred percent effective because condoms can break or fall off, but it’s better than nothing. ”
My brain is overloaded. I don’t know what he’s saying. Then it dawns on me. “You don’t want to have a baby with me?” My voice is shaky, and tears gather in the corners of my eyes. My lips start trembling. Why doesn’t he want to have a baby with me?
He flinches, his brow furrowing. “You totally misunderstood, sweetheart. That’s not what I meant.
At all. I want to have as many babies with you as you’d like.
The thought of you round with my child makes me ache inside.
I can’t wait for that. I can’t wait for your milk to come in so I can bring you our babies in the night and watch you nurse them.
I can’t wait to help you pump the excess milk when the baby doesn’t finish it. I want all of that with you.”
“Oh,” I whisper.
“The reason I’m telling you about birth control and condoms is because ultimately you get to decide whether you want to get pregnant or not.
I can only share my opinion. At the end of the day, it’s always your choice.
It’s you who will carry our babies, so I don’t have the right to tell you what to do.
I’m saying all this because I have condoms. If you don’t want to face the possibility of getting pregnant, I will wear one until you’re ready. ”
My chest rises and falls rapidly. He’s serious. He’s letting me decide? I’m so flabbergasted that I can’t utter a word. My mouth opens, but no sound comes out.
“It’s your choice, Rebekah. I may be bossy about a lot of things, especially when it concerns your safety, but not this. I will not take this option out of your hands.”
The tears gather again. I’m so emotional. At first, I was about to cry because I thought he didn’t want to have babies. Now I’m about to cry because he’s being so incredibly thoughtful.
Visions pop into my mind. Maybe his descriptive suggestions cause them.
I can picture myself huge with his child, my stomach heavy, my ankles swollen.
Nothing fits me. I’ve seen pregnant women.
When I was younger, my mother had female friends in homesteads nearby.
We visited them. Those were the only times I had other kids besides Hannah to play with.
Often, the women were pregnant. I never saw their husbands hovering or helping them. It seemed to me that the women were exhausted and still did all the cooking and cleaning in addition to taking care of the older kids.
At the time, the idea of ever being pregnant scared me, but now I’m seeing it through a different lens. The man I just married is overbearing and protective. He would never let me get rundown doing laundry in the creek. Hell, I bet he even has a washing machine.
“Tell me why you’re crying, sweetheart.” He doesn’t order me to stop. He isn’t even aggravated. He’s just asking me to explain.
I sniffle back the sob. “Because you’re so nice.”
He chuckles, his body shaking mine, making me aware we just had this serious conversation while he has been stretched out between my legs. The only thing keeping his penis from being inside me is his boxers. I’m aware of it pressing against my folds. It’s not small.
“I will always be nice. Can’t change that. If you were looking for a husband who would scream at you and berate you, you married the wrong man.”
“I don’t want you to use the balloon thingy,” I blurt out.
His brows shoot up. “You don’t want me to wear a condom?”
I shake my head. I’m scared, but I want to have Adam’s baby.
Not just because he’s made it clear it’s what he wants, but because I love the idea of having a small human that’s a part of both of us.
I’ve been half in love with this man for a decade.
There is no other man I’d like to have a baby with.
I’m so lucky. So very lucky. I will thank the heavens for the rest of my life that Asher tossed me over his shoulder and tied me to that chair. He probably saved me from a fate worse than death.