28. Sarah
Michael was so tender, removing my clothes gently, one piece at a time. Each time he did, he kissed my skin softly and told me again how he loved me and wanted to be in my life forever. The words were both comforting and painful, pushing on the thorn in my heart that was oozing infection and ready to burst.
Twice, I almost made him stop so I could confess—the shame of it almost too much to push away. But his consistent confessions of love overwhelmed me so much I didn’t resist any of his affection or advances, even as he stripped his clothes off and nestled himself between my thighs.
Turning my head away, I bit my lip, but I didn’t struggle. He was a good lover, patient and caring, making sure to go slow and check on my comfort often. It had been so long since I’d had him inside me, and I almost forgot how good it felt. Warmth spread throughout my body, coils of pleasure tightening in my belly as his kisses trailed up my neck and jawline.
He whispered words of love in my ear, one hand coming up to cradle my chin to make me look at him.
“Tell me you love me, too, please tell me you love me too,” he begged, his eyes desperate for my confirmation.
I couldn’t keep up the charade any longer. He deserved to know the truth. He deserved to leave if he wanted to, before I could make him feel any worse than he already did. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and forced the words out of my mouth.
“Michael,” I said shakily, “I…” But his lips claimed mine before I could say anything else, and his fingers found my sensitive nub, swirling around in my moisture. I felt his hardened length, pressing on my thigh, begging for entrance. “I love you,” I breathed between kisses, and he slid into me easily. I didn’t know what had gotten into him. Normally, he got a condom before this point, but I wasn’t going to stop this to remind him. I was on the pill and we’d already swapped fluids, and I didn’t want him to be away from me for a single second.
His movements were expert, as if he’d known my body for years as he thrust in and out, panting against my ear, moaning my name like it was a holy mantra. His body moved against mine in a serpentine wave, driving deep and then pulling back, and I met him in the thrusts, rocking my hips. His thumb expertly traced a circle around my clit, pushing me closer to the edge with each movement. When his teeth sank into my neck, I felt the coil in my groin tighten, holding me over the cavern of pleasure by a thread.
My orgasm hit me like a freight train, and I couldn’t help but thrash underneath him, silently screaming his name as the climax ripped through me. His movements became erratic as he chased his own release, and I reveled in the feeling of him losing control and letting go. My body clenched around him, pussy so wet I felt the hot moisture on my thighs chill when our bodies parted slightly.
“Oh, God, oh, my God,” I grunted, reveling in the sensations of pleasure shooting through me in waves. Michael continued massaging my clit with his thumb, even as the orgasm slowed, and never relented. I clawed at his back, digging my nails into his skin. I didn’t care if it hurt him, I just wanted more.
“Again,” I panted, and he smiled against my neck. “More.”
Michael seemed to enjoy this blissful torture he was putting me through, finding the spots on my body that needed touched—inside and out. His free hand kneaded a breast, his teeth still clawing at my neck. His grunts and growls told me he was enjoying it too, but when he whispered, “God, Sarah, you’re incredible,” it was what I needed to come again. A second orgasm crashed into me, even harder than the first.
Michael groaned, slamming into me hard, his eyes shut tight with pleasure. He thrust one more time, and then his thrusts slowed, his body tensing above mine. A feeling of warmth and fullness bloomed inside me as he filled me with his seed, and for a moment, I was complete, our bodies joined together as one. Then his lips covered mine again, as if marking his territory and claiming me. The kiss was possessive and demanding, and nothing in this world could ever give me this feeling again. I soaked up every second of it, our bodies united and our hearts pounding.
He rolled off me, and I turned on my side, letting him hold me for a second. I thought about the pictures on my phone of Emily, the ones I intended to show him. I wasn’t in any state emotionally to talk, so I thought maybe I’d just open the Photos app and let him see her. Maybe following intimate sex like that wasn’t the best time to tell him, but if I didn’t do it now, I’d never do it.
“God, I’m so in love with you, and it feels so good to say it. And don’t worry about a thing, Sarah. We’re going to make great parents, especially you. And man, I want a family with you, lots of kids, and we’ll put them in the best schools.” His hand slid across my stomach, and I felt my body tense in confusion.
I wanted everything he was saying, but he was talking as if I were pregnant, and I most certainly wasn’t. It both confused and encouraged me that I should correct him.
“Uh, Mike…”
“And I know what you’re thinking, but I’ve had a change of heart and?—”
“Michael…” I wanted to lie here and enjoy every second of this, but something wasn’t right. This didn’t feel right.
“It’s okay, Sarah. I think I understand now.”
“Understand what?” I asked, sitting up. His hands dropped to the couch cushion, and I angled to face him.
“Well, the baby… That’s why you’re throwing up and so emotional, right? You’re pregnant?”
I couldn’t help myself. I started to laugh. Call it relief after the tension of months of agonizing over this moment, or my just being too nervous to tell the truth, but it was a belly laugh that drew a scowl to his forehead.
“I’m not pregnant, Mike.” I rested a hand lightheartedly on his chest, and he sat up and snatched his boxers off the floor.
“What do you mean?” He jammed his legs into the boxers and pulled them up, and it made me uncomfortable. I gathered my clothing and started dressing too, not sure why his mood switched so quickly. “Why did you need to talk to me, then? You’re breaking up?”
“What? No.” I put my panties and bra on, not believing what was happening. It was supposed to be this sweet moment where I told him the truth. He wasn’t supposed to get angry first. Anger was what I expected after.
“Then what? That’s what women say when they have a horrible secret to tell. You are nervous because you don’t want to be with me?” He glared at me and grabbed his shirt and wadded it up in a ball. “You shouldn’t have slept with me if you were just breaking up with me.”
“Christ, Michael. No.” At that point, I was mostly dressed. I buttoned my jeans and straightened my shirt, looking for my shoes. My hands shook the entire time, and I forgot entirely about my phone and the pictures of our daughter.
“Then what is it? You’re keeping secrets from me?” His eyes flashed with rage and pain, and I felt my own anger well up.
I tried to be patient with him. I’d done everything I could every time he got grumpy to be the grounding force, keep him calm. But I wasn’t thinking straight. Anxiety and fear made me foggy and confused.
“Why didn’t you tell me about London? Huh?” I turned toward him as I found my shoes and keys on the floor, then snatched them up. “You were just going to sign a contract and leave?”
“No, I thought maybe if you loved me, you’d have gone with me.” His chest heaved as he threw the shirt onto the couch.
“When you love someone, you don’t make decisions like that without talking to them. You flew to another country without telling me.” Now my chest was heaving, tears pricking my eyes. I had no right to say that, but I let my own insecurity and pain seep out onto him.
“This doesn’t feel like love, Sarah. You just told me you loved me. I was going to?—”
“That’s rich,” I said, cutting him off. All that special sweet talk about our being a family was crap. “You just said we’d have a family, but you didn’t even think of Emily at all. You just want me to uproot her and?—”
“Kids are resilient. They do whatever their parents want them to do.” His nostrils flared and his eyes seemed to bulge out of his head, and I wanted to just storm out and never see him again. My heart was breaking into a million pieces.
I clutched the shoes and keys to my chest and picked up my phone from the couch cushion and shoved it into my pocket, not caring if he ever saw those photos at all.
“You wouldn’t know the first thing about what a child is or isn’t. You’ve never been a father.” I knew the words hurt him the minute they left my mouth. I turned on my heel and walked toward his door, seething.
“Yeah, well if you’re such a great mom, where is Emily’s dad? You cut him off too?”
Michael had no idea what he was saying, but the knife in the back hurt so badly, I turned around and spat, “He’s not in the picture because you’re her father, Michael.” I bit the inside of my cheek and shook my head, tears rolling down my cheeks. “I never told you because I knew about your promotion and I didn’t want to ruin your life with an unplanned pregnancy. This whole time, I’ve been trying to work up the courage to tell you. But you don’t deserve her precious heart at all. And you don’t deserve mine, either.”
I stomped out the door, already on my phone calling an Uber. I set the pickup location for several blocks from here and half walked, half jogged away from his house as fast as I could.
I told him, but it wasn’t how I intended to, and now I knew there would be repercussions. I just hoped my family would back me up because my gut told me this would be really bad.