Chapter 10 – Shay
Chapter Ten
Shay
Three Weeks Later
Idon’t know if I’m pregnant yet, but I might be. I must be.
Cody’s desire for a baby slowly melts my coldness towards him, even if I’m too scared to show him outwardly how he makes me feel.
I don’t want to blame it on just good sex.
Everything about the way he handles me, nuzzles me, and holds me close makes me want to fall in love with him.
Love. The thought makes me immediately nauseous.
It’s not like I have a natural problem with love.
I love my son… But I’ve never felt these warm fuzzy feelings for a man and had that end well.
Cody doesn’t ask about my emotions and we don’t talk much.
Everything is physical, but I don’t feel any less loved because of it.
I sense how he feels when he kisses me, caresses me, and even holds me close when he finishes.
I don’t feel the need to probe his emotional state verbally.
Making love becomes a slow, sweet release.
A routine and a ritual of taking his massive cock as we work together to create a permanent bond between us.
Cody wants his baby. He says that much at least each time we make love.
Tonight is another night alone in the house, just me and Caleb.
Those nights away from Cody are the worst. The complicated feelings I have making love to him at least dissipate when he’s in bed with me.
I hate being alone because there’s way too much time for contemplating our relationship and what I’m messing around with here.
I know he’s dangerous, I know he paid for this arranged marriage, and I know he has this physical difference that scares him half to death.
Cody and I get along but… is this really going to last?
He’s not here to distract me, so it’s just me and my worries about whether I’ll find love in the last place I expected to find it.
Caleb puts a smile on my face, but I don’t know if I’m always doing what’s best for him.
Making it work with Cody will keep him safe.
It’s pretty easy to get into baby conversation while running through all your background worries, so my evening with Caleb doesn’t stop me from freaking out quietly about my husband.
We’ve been sleeping together for so many weeks, but we don’t talk more than necessary outside of that about the baby situation. He hasn’t asked once if our efforts have been successful. And tonight, he’s gone, so this won’t be one of the nights we make love and I can discuss it with him.
He hasn’t asked about my missed period and I haven’t had a regular period since Caleb was born, honestly.
It comes about every twenty-eight days except the months it comes every thirty-five days or every twenty-two days.
So I don’t know. I just find it strange that Cody hasn’t asked.
It makes me think that he just… Well, if I didn’t know any better, I would think he wants to make love to me because it feels good. Because I’m beautiful to him…
The thought shouldn’t feel absurd. I wouldn’t have all those self-doubts if I had any healthy relationships to compare this to. And it doesn’t seem right that my arranged marriage would be the healthiest one I’ve been in.
Cody wants a child of his own – insurance, from a man’s perspective, that I won’t run off on him.
He knows full well I don’t have money to do that.
So maybe he has different motives. Ugh, I wish I wasn’t so caught up on this.
It’s like… Well, if I didn’t know better, I would say I had a crush on my husband.
And considering he’s a tall, terrifying country boy who hardly says a word, that feels terrifying.
I hear a motorcycle. That shocks me. Cody rides a quiet bike and I never hear it. I’m pretty sure it’s a luxury ride too – I don’t know bikes. I walk over to my bedroom window and look out to see him. He isn’t alone.
My stomach drops. The person who gets off the bike behind Cody is much shorter than him. Cody takes his helmet off, then his passenger’s. It’s a woman. My throat tightens into a knot, which takes a heavy plunge into the base of my stomach.
She looks young. Skinny too. Her hair is in thick red pigtails. They match. She looks like just as much of a biker as Cody is. And their dynamic seems familiar. I step away from my window. I feel like an idiot. Where did I think he was going every night?
I let the sex get to my head and now I feel stupid.
I crawl under the covers and try not to think about anything. It takes me another two hours to fall asleep. Luckily, I don’t hear any moans or hear the bed shaking. I hope he has the decency to get rid of her in the morning.
I’m reluctant to leave my bed in the morning.
When you have a kid Caleb’s age, that doesn’t matter.
He wakes up rearing to go before the sun rises every day and now that he can walk, speak and tug on various parts of my body, there really is no chance at resting.
I feel my son’s hands touching my face before I open one sleepy eye.
“Mama,” he says, touching his mouth. Hungry.
I always thought his father looked like a caramel version of Stefon Diggs, except with hazel eyes instead of dark brown that he passed on to Caleb. My son is perfect, even right now with his smelly diaper and drool caked on the sides of his mouth. Kids really don’t give a fuck.
I try not to sound half dead when I answer him. “We can have breakfast after we get you cleaned up. I’m coming…”
I should have been up first. My limbs are weighted iron that I can barely move.
Caleb drags my arm and attempts to pull me out of bed.
That boy will be the death of me. I struggle, but I manage.
Caleb doesn’t fuss as I get him out of his dirty diaper and give him a quick bath in our en suite bathroom.
He needs a fresh change. I put a little navy blue t-shirt on him with gray pants that have elastic around the waist so he can get them up and down on his own.
His hair has been out of control lately, but I run some water over the curls so they’re wet enough to work through and comb out the tangles in my son’s short curly afro.
“Mama, hungry.”
I pick Caleb up and set him on my bed with a picture book while I change.
He loves every book that has an animal on the cover.
My clothes are all wet from Caleb’s bath and I’ll have to face Cody — and possibly his mistress — when I take Caleb downstairs to feed him.
The toughest part about being a mom sometimes is having to keep up this strong exterior all the time in front of Caleb.
We can’t hide out all morning without Caleb asking questions.
I throw on a pair of simple black leggings which are comfortable, but don’t accentuate my less-than-perfect shape.
I’m nowhere near an hourglass figure. My boobs seem to be even more gigantic and awkward than normal today.
I hide in a large Dallas Cowboys t-shirt that Cody gave me. I’m not big on football.
I look ugly. It’s not the type of fit you want when you’re walking downstairs to see your husband with his red-haired mistress who looks like every white guy’s dream girl-next-door type.
Caleb scrambles off the bed, attracting my attention to make sure he doesn’t fall onto his head.
He’s fine, although toddlers walking will always be a little scary to witness, and walks over to hold my hand as I try not to let my visible self-loathing register.
“Mama, you look pretty,” Caleb says with a little smile. Kids. They can be brutally honest, which feels pretty great when they give you a compliment.
“Thanks, Caleb. What do you want for breakfast? Eggs?”
“Yuck.”
“Pancakes?”
“Uh huh.”
“If you have pancakes, you have to have something healthy too.”
“Juice.”
Sigh. We’ll work it out. I pick my son up and leave my bedroom. Caleb presses his hand on my chest. His warmth helps my speeding heart slow down a little bit, but I’m still nervous about what and who we’ll meet in Cody’s kitchen.
I hear a woman’s voice singing downstairs when I start my descent. Dread forms a thick knot in my stomach. It’s her — it has to be. Then I hear Cody’s voice in the kitchen too.
“I need to make Shay some coffee.”
The singing stops. I keep walking down the stairs, certain they can hear my footsteps now. Caleb clutches my chest and rests his head on me.
“Does anybody else know about her?” the woman asks.
“No,” Cody says. “I’d like to keep it that way, thank you.”
I’m his shameful secret.
It’s too late for me to withdraw. I step into the kitchen with Caleb, my eyes averted like I can make myself invisible while Cody and his mistress enjoy their romantic conversation with each other. Don’t let me interrupt your good time.
“Shay,” Cody’s voice makes an effort to stop me. “Good morning. Caleb. Hello, little man.”
I look over at Cody, trying to ignore the flash of red hair in my periphery.
Does he seriously expect me to greet him like there’s nothing going on?
There’s another woman standing in this kitchen, and I have enough self-respect to carry on with my business and leave them in the kitchen to do their business.
Cody might not respect me, but I respect myself and I won’t stand here and take this.