Chapter 22
TAYLOR
It’s a week later that Hayley is practically vibrating when she and Payton and I meet for brunch. She’s got the perfect baby name. My sisters are chatting and excited and I am very much on the outside. They are both pregnant and in love.
They listen about my new teaching venture with Madam Polina, and I know they mean to be encouraging, but they can’t understand why I have to continue dancing. Why it’s in my soul.
They compare due dates and morning sickness, and I mention my dill obsession, we all laugh and I tell them about my sympathy cravings. It’s funny, because usually before my period I really want chocolate and I haven’t been able to stomach it since arriving back in London…
Wait. When was my last period?
With everything that’s happened. I’ve been so distracted I haven’t even thought about my period.
My sisters and the café fade and blur as I try to remember. I’ve been back in London for a month.
I’ve spent about a month with Payton, and before that, it was just over two weeks with Hayley. I didn’t have my period then, and with all the changes I didn’t notice.
I cast my mind back to when I was part of the ballet.
I had cramps when we were in Turkey, and I think that was two weeks before Moscow. Before the night with Kon.
My brain is slow to do the maths. I’m a dancer, not an accountant. But however I add it up, my period is late. At least a week.
He pulled out.
My cheeks heat as I remember the feel of Kon inside me. His hard cock stretching me out, the way I orgasmed so long with his solid thickness for my pussy to hold onto. He felt amazing.
Then he pulled away and I was achingly empty.
And he sprayed those ribbons of white over my belly. His cock in his hand, his face contorted with ferocious pleasure.
There was so much. It covered me, warm and sticky.
He came on me, not in me. I’m certain about that.
I can’t be pregnant from sperm that was deposited on my belly, not in it.
Right? That’s impossible. And yet.
It only needs one.
Do sperm escape early? I’m not sure, but if pulling out was a reliable contraception method, we wouldn’t need condoms.
So it’s possible. Not likely, but possible.
My mind flicks back to our conversation about cravings, and suddenly that doesn’t seem funny now at all.
What if…?
Images reel through my mind. A child with Kon’s ice-blue eyes.
I can barely hold the idea without it slipping away, like it’s as frightened as I am.
Scared that it might not be true. Because now I’ve had this thought, I want to be pregnant with Kon’s child more than anything.
I’m quiet all evening, and Kon doesn’t mention it, but he notices. Those frozen-blue eyes of his regard me, and his brow has fine lines as I pretend everything is normal as we eat in his kitchen. I barely touch the beef soup he provides.
The pregnancy test I bought earlier sits in my bathroom downstairs like an unexploded bomb. I thank him and say I’m tired, then back in my apartment I stare at the test and don’t take it for about two hours.
I’m so mixed up.
When I finally really really need to pee, I have no excuse.
Except, even then, I can’t look. I keep it face down, and take it to the lounge. Clearly, I’m not emotionally capable enough to do this on my own.
I think about texting Payton, or going to fetch Hayley from whatever marital bliss she’s in.
They’re both in committed relationships—marriages—and expecting babies. They have everything.
But I’m perilously close to tears, and have all the emotional stability of a soggy paper bag.
I need someone to help, because I am not at all sure what result I’m hoping for.
I glance down at the little plastic stick. Face to the counter, it’s like a grenade. A poisonous snake I don’t want to wake.
What if it’s positive? What will I do? What will Kon say?
And if it’s negative…?
A sob rises in my throat.
I actually think that would be worse. I’ve got this idea about being pregnant, and having a child who I could pour affection on. The thought of having a piece of Kon and me together is warmth from the inside out.
There’s one person I want by my side as I find out if I’m pregnant, and despite the fact I love my sisters, it’s not either of them.
It’s Kon.
Kon said come over about anything. Any time. I could…
Look, this is silly. I’m an adult.
I push back my shoulders. It’s okay.
I can do it. I can just look at the test…
But as I reach for the plastic stick, my eyes close, and I slip it into my pocket. Then I’m on my feet, and opening doors.
Kon opens the door to his apartment wearing only a pair of tight black boxers that leave nothing to the imagination.
“Zhizn moya.”
His short hair is slightly flattened and there’s stubble on his jaw, but I can’t tear my eyes from his body. I haven’t seen him like this since that night, and I’m so greedy to look at him. Even more so than when he first took his clothes off in front of me.
He’s amazing. He’s not like a dancer. At all. Where we’re all plucked and smooth and slim, Kon is huge, his chest covered in dark hair that partially obscures his tattoos. He has muscles, big ones, but also a layer of padding that you’d never find on a dancer. He’s strong, and solid.
Seeing him brings back a barrage of sensations from the night I first saw him naked, and I flush.
“Taylor,” he says urgently, and I realise he’s probably said my name twice already while I just gawked at this huge man who is all the fantasies I didn’t know I had.
And some I discovered with him.
“What happened?” he demands, taking a step into the corridor, wild-eyed. And he looks so worried, so compassionate, and simultaneously so entirely hot, I consider bolting back downstairs.
I can’t say that I was so weak and silly that I couldn’t look at a pregnancy test on my own.
“Kon.” My voice wobbles.
“Yes.” He reaches out and draws me into his apartment, closing the door behind me. His big hand spans my waist and oh my gosh.
He’s really, so beautiful.
And he’s been so kind. My eyes prickle. What’s wrong with me?
“Oh, zhizn moya, don’t cry,” Kon says softly, and it’s only then I realise my cheek is wet.
Is this pregnancy hormones? Is that why I’ve been an emotional wreck?
Then I’m pulled to his chest, and surrounded by his arms, and this is the best place in the world. I relish these few seconds of comfort before the inevitable disaster unfolds.
“What is it? What happened?” He strokes my hair, and he’s been so good to me. Am I about to ruin his life?
I steel myself, and look up into his face. Concern pinches around his eyes.
“Kon, I…” I swallow. “I think I’m pregnant.”