214 Days
The room was dark. Danny blindly felt for a light switch; his eyes took a moment to adjust to the soft yellow walls.
A gentle cooing emanated from a crib in the corner as he approached a precious toddler.
Her eyes were large pools of brown on a sweet face framed by black curls.
He scooped her up and marveled at her comforting weight.
“Dada,” she said.
“I’m here, baby. I gotcha,” he said as he held her close.
She rested her head against his heart; her warmth seemed to unclog his arteries. He inhaled her, and the honey scent slowed his pulse. Rhea entered and took them in.
“How’d you know she was up?”
“I just had a feeling.”
“You guys are so connected,” Rhea said, her eyes full of adoration.
Danny’s father gingerly entered the room, a shorter, frailer version of Danny, his once black hair now gray.
“Grandpa!” the little one said.
Danny watched his father’s permanent scowl melt into a grin as he reached for the toddler. Danny’s father cradled her and made funny faces as she squealed with delight. Danny and his father locked eyes.
“I am so proud of you,” his father said.
Danny felt his pulse speed up. He could hear his own heart thumping in his rib cage. Suddenly, his arteries constricted, choking the flow of blood, and he clutched his chest.
Danny woke with a strangled gasp; his body was damp with perspiration. He threw off the blankets and sat up.
“Danny?” he heard Rhea say.
She was lying next to him, lit by the predawn glow outside the open window. She looked at him with concerned eyes, rubbed the sleep out of them, and propped herself up.
“I’m okay, sorry, I just…had a nightmare.”
“Oh no…what happened?”
“No, nothing, just like, I don’t know.”
Rhea scooted closer, wrapping her arm around him and resting her head on his chest.
“Your heart is pounding. Maybe take some deep breaths?”
The intake of oxygen, combined with the soothing pressure of Rhea, began to calm him.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nightmare.
He wondered if the dream could technically be called a nightmare since nothing officially bad had happened.
It was a sublimely happy tableau: the love he felt for that child; the content expression on his father’s face—he had never heard his father say those six words; and Rhea…
the bliss emanating from her, the way she looked at him.
Ada’s baby shower had gotten in his head; he’d seen Rhea’s face when she discovered the maternity photos.
He felt her disappointment and her envy, or maybe he didn’t.
She hadn’t said anything about it, even after he asked if she was okay.
Maybe he was making it all up to torture himself.
Maybe she was telling the truth and already had everything she wanted.
He didn’t want to bring it up again; he was afraid of what her answer would be if he asked how she currently felt about not having children.
He closed his eyes and relived the weight of the toddler in his arms. He could make his father proud.
He could make Rhea look at him like that again.
He could be a successful and contributing member of “normal” society and make everyone around him happy.
He had many friends who had procreated to satisfy their parents or their partners.
All he had to do was sacrifice an innocent child, bring them into a country where they could be shot during a science quiz, and force them to navigate the challenging terrain.
Danny would eventually die and leave that child by themselves to traverse the treacherous maze.
Could he do that just to please everyone else?
Rhea gently traced her fingertips down his arm and across his abdomen. His body incrementally relaxed under her touch.
“I just…want you to be happy, Rhea. More than anything in the world,” he whispered, his hoarse voice filled with more intensity than he intended.
“I’m so happy with you.” She looked into his eyes.
His fingers lifted to trace the line of her collarbone.
He felt her press against his body, felt the softness of her breasts on his hard torso.
His breath quickened. The lingering shadow of the dream was replaced by a familiar, powerful need for her.
His arm tightened around her, pulling her flush against him.
Her mouth found his with a gentle urgency as if to banish whatever had attacked him in his nightmare. Her tongue moved slowly, soothing him. Her fingers laced through his hair, tugging gently as he shifted on top of her.
His hand slid down, seeking the curve of her hip, then dipped lower. His fingers traced the waistband of her white cotton shorts. With a decisive motion, he pulled them down until her bare skin was exposed to the light of magic hour. His eyes swept over her body, and a low groan escaped him.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered.
His hand reached under her T-shirt and found the fullness of her breast, his thumb tracing soft, deliberate circles. Rhea arched as he gradually pulled her shirt off, then his own.
He lowered his head, slowly, patiently, tracing a line with his lips down her torso and over her hip bones.
At the first brush of his breath against her most sensitive skin, he felt her tremble.
Her hips lifted off the mattress as his mouth made contact.
A raw gasp tore from her throat. He moved with an unhurried devotion, exploring every delicate curve with the singular purpose of pleasing her.
Her hands clutched the sheets as sensation built. He drew strength from her reactions; his movements grew more confident. He felt like he knew exactly what she needed; their bodies spoke the same language.
He reached into her nightstand and found a condom. He positioned himself over her, and her legs parted, inviting him. As he entered her, a soft moan slipped from her throat. He paused, his forehead resting against hers, their breath mingling.
“I love you,” he whispered.
He wished there were even bigger words, more meaningful, deeper words to describe the way he felt about her—words that could express how consumed he was by that single, powerful need to make her happy.
“I love you too.”
He saw tears pricking at her eyes. Were they tears of happiness?
Tears of longing? Did she have everything she wanted?
Could he give her everything she wanted?
She moved, rocking her hips toward him, urging him deeper.
He took her cue; his pace quickened, and they moved together until the world outside, with its lingering questions and life-changing decisions, ceased to exist.