18. August 24th
Angie
“What are we getting again?” I ask, taking his hand and stepping out of the Range into the parking lot of Wegmans.
“We’re grabbing dessert and salad to bring to moms’.” He shakes his head. “Did you really forget?”
Shutting the door, he then locks the car and pockets his keys before I roll my eyes. “I didn’t forget where we were going. I only forgot what we were getting. That’s pretty good for me these days. The pregnancy brain is getting better.”
We make our way from the blistering hot pavement inside the heaven that is Wegmans grocery store. It’s kind of like Whole Foods. There’s a restaurant here with amazing food, a whole beer department where you can sip on a cold one, and then walk through the store to do your shopping.
Like I said, heaven.
And we must be in the clouds because Rafael is looking extra fine tonight. He’s wearing a modern, black Hawaiian shirt with a striking pale pink and blue floral pattern. And those fucking short-shorts again. To top that, he’s wearing leather deck shoes with no socks like a harlot.
I thought having on-demand sex with Rafael would ease my craving, but no. In fact, I’m having the opposite problem. After he fucks me within an inch of my life nearly every morning, by the end of the workday I’m either rearing to go another several rounds or so exhausted I fall asleep as soon as I walk through our door. And on those pass-the-fuck-out before 5:00 pm nights, I’ll wake to a small plate of food on my nightstand. Grapes, a concha Ana made, a dish of trail mix maybe—just something to munch on in case my blood sugar or pressure drops.
And when I wake up, he’s always right there—his body warming my bed and my stupid heart. No one is more thrilled than Razzle Dazzle though. Now he gets to choose who he sleeps with each night. He usually starts with laying on my belly until the twins start kicking, then promptly swats at my stomach for disturbing him and transfers locations to cradle in my friend”s arms.
But Rafael”s not the only one I have my eyes on these days. There’s someone else turning me on in a surprising turn of events.
Me.
When I look at myself in the mirror, my bump now prominent, I become the most conceited person ever. I had healthy self-esteem before I was pregnant, but now? Fuck me, I’m gorgeous! My hair, skin, attitude, body, everything is the epitome of perfection. I”m a goddamn siren.
That mentality shift has certainly helped me speak up and tell Rafael when I’m needy. But at the same time, I feel bad that all my thoughts are consumed by the following:
How sexy Rafael is and how he’d be crazy not to fuck me every second of every day.
Researching everything about birth and raising babies.
That’s it. That’s the whole list. I forget about my family, my job, even Cora. Thankfully, Raf sees both of us on a near-daily basis, so he reminds us to call each other. Which I should really do again because I haven’t been totally honest with her.
Raf grabs a cart as I pull my phone from my purse and press her contact. “Angie babe, how are you?” Cora says after the third ring.
“I’m good. Just at the store with Raf picking up a couple things for dinner tonight at Ana and Christina’s.” I answer, already forgetting what we’re supposed to buy. “We’re spending the night, and then seeing my dad in the morning. What are you doing?”
“We had lunch with Jay’s parents earlier and now the three of us are getting a mani pedi.”
“Ooh, that sounds nice. I’m due for one. What color is Marco getting?”
“Oh, he’s getting a full set in highlighter pink, obviously.” I can hear him in the background ask what that means and she giggles, but doesn’t answer him. “How are you feeling?”
It’s the most common question we ask each other since we’ve become pregnant. Feeling means physically and emotionally in these instances. Both are intrinsically tied to one another and change every day, but the thing that hasn’t changed is the thing I’ve been keeping close to my chest—my sore and sensitive chest.
I meander through the produce section aimlessly while far ahead of me, Raf starts collecting what we need. I clear my throat. “My nausea is totally gone now and has been replaced with outrageous confidence. The babies love to kick me at night when I’m at my most relaxed state, and Rafael and I are fucking like rabbits,” I wince, ripping the bandage off. There’s such a long pause that I look at my screen to check that the call didn’t cut out. “Cora?”
“Did you just say you’re sleeping with Raf?” she asks in a serious tone that brokers no other meaning.
“Yeah?”
“Angie! Oh my god, I knew this would happen!” she screeches.
“You did not.”
“Yes, I did. Just like how you manifested a sexy threesome for me, I did this for you! You’re welcome. You can repay me by naming your children after me.”
Thankful that I’m laughing and not cowering, I ask, “Both of them? What if I’m having boys?”
“Cora is a gender-neutral name. If you think about it, all names are gender-neutral, Ang. Alright, stop distracting me. How long has this been going on?”
My wince comes back. “Since the beginning of July?”
“What?” she hisses. “On the camping trip?”
“Yeah,” I confirm, taking four pieces of sample cheese from the display tray and completely losing Rafael in the store.
She lets out a sigh that sounds like she’s trying to calm herself down. “You need to tell me right now: is it good?”
I look over my shoulder to make sure no one is nearby before admitting, “It’s the best. He’s an animal, Cora.”
This time her sigh sounds like relief. “Good for you. This is so fucking weird though.”
“You said you manifested this!”
“I did, but it’s still weird that my best friends are fucking—I’ll tell you everything when I get off the phone, Jay,” she says a little quieter before coming back at full volume. “How are you feeling about this set-up with him? Is it a romantic thing or a friends with bennies situation?”
“Well,” I drawl and contemplate telling the truth. Cora’s my girl though, and I’m sick of keeping the truth locked up. I need someone on my side that can keep her mouth shut. Granted, she will tell Jay and Marco, but I trust them too. Taking one more scan for Rafael, I continue. “It’s friends with bennies that’s only supposed to last until the babies are born, but…” I sigh as my gut drops and palms start to sweat. “I might be in too deep, Cora.”
“Has that tiny crush come back?” she asks graciously.
“Yes,” I admit. “And it may be a little more than a crush now.”
“Oh, Angie,” Cora says softly. “It’s been like this for a while, hasn’t it?”
I’ve always been upfront with her with everything except this. I’ve never wanted to admit my feelings for Raf aloud, never wanted to make them real. It’s not a healthy thing to do and as a counselor I know this better than anyone; but it’s been so easy to ignore until now. I’ve been able to date and have romantic attachments to other men in the past and maintain my friendship with him, allowing my unreasonable unrequited feelings to simmer. But now, simmering has turned into boiling and the steam is burning me.
“Yeah,” I tell her, “It’s been like this for a long time actually.”
“It’s about time you admitted it.”
“Thanks for pretending you didn’t know,” I chuckle.
“I knew you’d tell me eventually. What does this mean for you guys right now? Does he seem like he’s interested in commitment? I know that’s important to you.”
Cora’s not wrong—finding a committed partner, a husband, is crucial to me. I watched my dad struggle for decades after my mom passed away—a shell of the man he once was. I felt sad for him, not because he needed help with raising kids—I was blind to that then—but because of how lonely he was. His life could have been richly colorful like it had been when my mom was alive. To this day I still look up to my parents” marriage, even if it was through the lens of childhood.
I”ve been committed to everyone else in my life, so yes, I’m desperate for that same kind of unwavering, unconditional support in return. I need to know that someone is always going to be there for me no matter what, and I refuse to put that responsibility on my own children.
My desire for that kind of partnership has only been laminated by the countless romance books I’ve fused into my soul. Is it really too much to ask for a man to be obsessed with me? Someone who takes care of me and recognizes everyone I’ve been supporting?
Sure, Rafael has always been around for me, and I’ve never felt lonely in friendship, but could he turn a new leaf? I love picturing it, but there’s always a sharp stab of worry telling me, He’ll never change. He’s a flight risk.
“As far as I can tell, he still has the same attitude,” I tell Cora. “But oh my god, when we’re having sex, it’s so hard not to picture us—you know what I mean?”
“Yeah. He’s been treating you like a girlfriend forever, hun. I’ve never seen someone as comfortable together as you two are. You have such an intimate friendship, so it makes complete sense that your heart connects so fiercely.”
When I step into a new aisle, still lost in our conversation and my feelings, a booming voice yells, “Hey, sweetheart!” My head pops up to locate where the sound is coming from, when I spot Rafael at the end, holding a huge plastic package up in the air. “Are these the right adult diapers you need? Ultra-absorbent?” he bellows, and I roll my eyes, totally unfazed. He”s chuckling, but I shake my head and leave the aisle.
It’s not the first time he’s tried to embarrass me. You can’t grow up with someone like him, like my brothers, and not be accustomed to this kind of juvenile behavior. It’s better to ignore him.
“Oh my god,” I whisper.
“Did someone just yell about Depends?”
“That was Raf,” I hiss.
Cora snickers on the other line. “You see, this is what I’m talking about. You two are way too comfortable with each other. Now tell me, are you going to talk to him about your feelings?”
“Wasn’t planning on it, no.”
“Ang.”
“No. There’s no point. This arrangement will end when the twins are born and we’ll go back to friendship as usual.”
“Uh-huh,” she deadpans, like she knows everything. Ugh.
“It will. We’re going to be great co-parents.”
“Are you planning on living together forever?”
I find myself back at the cheese station and grab four more pieces. “We decided we’re gonna live together until it doesn’t work.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means if we start to feel like it isn’t healthy for us to live together, then we’ll live separately.” Cora’s harrumph on the other end stirs my curiosity. “What?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “It already feels wrong imagining you two not living together.” She’s not alone in that feeling.
“Well, I’m not planning on moving out, so it’s unnecessary to worry.”
“I know,” she says. “I’m just a little extra worried about a lot of things right now.”
That has my focus shifting. “Like what?”
“Like I’m worried I might not carry to full term,” she says solemnly, and I get it. She’s been battling depression and PTSD. She’s had various forms of grief to work through and it’s totally natural for her to have this worry. I haven’t been through half of what she has, but my heart sinks with hers.
“I know. I’ve been worried about that for both of us.”
“I’ve been trying to stay positive and talk to my therapist about it.”
“That’s good, Cora. It sounds like you’re feeling your feelings, acknowledging them, but trying to see a positive future too. I should keep reminding myself to do the same.”
“I’m so glad we’re doing this together, Ang. I feel so much closer to you for it.” Tears prick at my eyes as Cora’s sentiment hits me hard.
No, do not cry in Wegmans, I think to myself.
Too late.
“I’m so grateful for you, Cora. If we can’t have our moms by our sides for this, then I’m glad I have you.”
“Shut up, you’re making me cry.”
I wipe the tear streak from my face with the back of my hand. “We were laughing like two minutes ago, what the fuck?”
“Okay, okay,” my bestie inhales raggedly, trying to calm herself down. “Let’s change the subject. Have you thought of any names?”
Centering myself to answer her question, I inhale along with her. “Yeah. Raf likes the name Chlamydia, and I thought it was a joke at first, but I think he might be serious.”
“No, he doesn’t,” she chuckles in disbelief.
Knowing Cora is smiling makes me do the same. “He also suggested Olbric, but I had to veto because that’s the name of my favorite sex wizard, and I refuse to let him take away the ability to read my favorite erotic fantasy series.”
“Yes,” she hums. “A very reasonable explanation indeed.”
When I turn another corner, I find Rafael in the health and beauty aisle looking at something. As I take my first steps in his direction, the woman standing behind him with a store basket in the crook of her arm, comes up to his side and places her hand gently on his exposed bicep.
And I…see…red.
She’s slim and blonde and so fucking pretty I could scream. She’s exactly the type of woman Raf usually goes for.
My eyes stay glued to the pair of them. “Cora, I’ll have to call you back. I love you.”
“Oh. Okay. Love you too.”
Before the call ends, I devise a half-baked plan, but I’m not entirely sure it’s me doing it.
He’s yours, the hormones hiss. Eliminate her.
Her hand is still on his arm as he looks down at her and she gives him a saccharine smile, pointing to an item in front of his body—at a level she could easily reach if she only waited ten more fucking seconds for him to get out of the way. Like a normal shopper!
Sweat forms under my arms as my heart mercilessly pounds, but when my eyes catch on a box of condoms next to me, my plan becomes fully baked.
I’m going to walk up to him with this box and say, They don’t have the extra small condoms you like. Will these work? Then I’ll turn the box to read them like I have no other concern. Before he can answer, I’ll say, Nah, you’re right. I look over at blondie and ask, Do you work here? Do you carry extra small condoms?
But for once, my logical brain pipes up before I make my move. That’s too harsh, it tells me. Take it down a few notches.
Taking a deep breath, I calm my nerves and put on an unaffected front as I walk toward them. Raf has already handed her the bottle of whatever, and he’s smiling back at her. It’s his run-of-the-mill grin, but I know better than anyone that smile can make panties wet.
When I reach the cart, he finally sees me, but he doesn’t look the least bit unfazed. The woman’s head turns as well, and her hand immediately releases. The dress I’m wearing does a pretty good job at covering my pregnant belly, so I push it out as far as I can and rub it.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I mock the nickname from earlier but keep a neutral tone. “Are you ready?”
Blondie’s face falls and she finally backs away to an acceptable distance.
Raf nudges the cart forward, leaving the woman standing there with wide eyes, and I can tell he’s holding back a fit of laughter. “Come on, sweetheart. I think we got everything we need.”