Chapter 28 #2
“Oh God. Are you ok, poppet? Are you hurt?” he kept asking.
I had lost my voice.
“Look at me, baby,” Matt sounded frantic.
“Does it hurt anywhere? Madison, sweetheart, please talk to me.”
Not only had I lost my voice, I was terrified of opening my eyes.
In the self-imposed darkness I began to catalogue everything.
I was breathing, my heart was beating, and I could feel them which was the most important thing.
The tears started building behind my closed eyelids.
They were ok.
I could feel their little movements inside me.
Slowly my eyes opened.
Matt’s worried face was the first thing I saw.
“Are you ok? Are they ok?” he asked, cupping my face in his trembling hands.
I nodded quickly and he exhaled in pure relief before resting his forehead against mine.
We stayed like that for a few charged moments, sharing an intense look.
Matt kissed the tip of my nose and palmed my protruding stomach for a second then said, “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
Before I could react, he had jumped out the car and was heading over to the van which had almost crashed into us, and its shaken driver.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Matt’s enraged shout could be heard over both running engines.
“You almost killed us, you bloody lunatic!”
“I’m sorry, mate.” The man looked ghostly pale.
“I-I didn’t-”
“You weren’t paying attention,” Matt had his hand on the van’s door.
“My wife’s in that car, my pregnant wife , you arse. I had right of way.”
It appeared as if Matt was about to open the man’s van door and drag him out…
at least it looked that way from where I was sat.
“I’m sorry,” the man kept saying.
Matt glanced back at me, whatever he saw on my face had him hurrying back to the car, but not before he flipped two fingers up at the van driver.
I had never seen him flip someone off before and that tipped my hyped up emotions over the edge.
My mind began to send out short random bursts of thought.
He had called me his wife, not ex-wife.
We could have died, all of us.
I loved my unborn babies.
I loved Matt.
I missed my family.
I could have been killed.
My children could have been killed before they had even been born.
Matt got back in the car and checked my seatbelt was nice and secure before buckling his own.
“I n-need to lie down.” My voice had returned.
Matt grabbed my shaking hands.
“Your hands are cold.” He turned on the internal heating on my side and made a violent hand gesture towards the van driver who was now driving off.
“It’s not too far,” Matt gingerly eased the car forward and kept a wary eye on the traffic.
His driving was almost sedate, well below the speed limit, and I was grateful.
Death had visited me once, that fateful day my parents were killed.
Death had passed over me and I had let that experience make me reckless in certain regards.
I used to think it was taunting the Reaper, driving without my seatbelt and secretly, insanely, daring Death to have another go.
That all stopped when I found out I was pregnant.
I didn’t secretly think I deserved to die anymore.
I didn’t want to die, in fact, I needed to live forever.
How could I bring them into the world and ever leave them again?
It was inconceivable and rapidly filling me with terror.
What if something happened to me?
Who would take care of them?
What if something happened to them?
What if I couldn’t protect them?
The air was stuck in my throat.
I must have made a sound because Matt glanced over then stole a moment to rub my thigh.
“It’s ok, poppet. We’re ok. Take a nice, deep breath.” He flashed me a reassuring smile.
“We’ll be home soon.”
I nodded and twisted my head towards the window.
Taking my time I inhaled and exhaled, focused only on the rush of air in and out my nostrils.
The buildings and trees were a blur, blending into each other as I quietly went to pieces.
When we arrived at the house, Matt continued his soothing murmurs as he bundled me through the front door, brushed past an immediately concerned George, and led me upstairs to the master bedroom.
“Stay.” I made my tentative request after he had sat me down on the bed.
Matt nodded at once and we both laid down on the cool sheets.
He held me close, one arm as a pillow for my head with his hand absent-mindedly running over my hair, his other hand had snaked under my top while his fingers lightly rubbed my pregnant stomach.
“It’s ok. I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
“I promise.”
“I need you.” There, I said those three little words.
It was most likely due to delayed shock, but it was also the truth.
Matt peered at me, a melancholic grin on his face.
“Well, I guess that will have to do for now.”
I nodded in agreement and closed my eyes as he pressed a kiss to my forehead.
It always felt like home in his arms.
I was home.
The babies moved and I amended my thought.
We were home…
“Madi,” Matt’s voice sounded far away.
“Wake up.”
Not wanting to open my eyes, I snuggled deeper into his chest.
Matt’s chest wasn’t this squishy.
It didn’t smell like fabric softener either.
A hand caressed my back then brushed the hair off my face.
Struggling to open my eyes, I batted the intrusive hand away.
“Dr Nichols is here, poppet. Wake up.”
“What?” I cracked open eye open and raised my head.
“Who’s here?”
“Dr Nichols,” Matt repeated.
“I called him and he’s here to give you a check-up.”
I sat up now and squinted around the room.
“What time is it? Why did you let me sleep?”
Matt held out a hair band and gestured to my hair.
I didn’t need to look in a mirror to know it was cave-girl wild.
“It’s only 6:45,” he advised.
“And you obviously needed the rest. You drooled all over me before. You only do that when you’re exhausted.”
“Sorry,” I muttered, dabbing the corner of my mouth before taking the hair band and pulling my curls into a loose pony-tail.
“Dr Nichols is here?”
Matt nodded, patiently waiting for the rest of my brain to wake up.
“You called him?” I blinked owlishly and squirmed.
My bladder desperately needed emptying.
“I’m ok. I feel ok.”
“I know,” Matt smiled and tweaked my nose.
“But it’s better to be sure. Yes?”
I nodded then glanced down at my tummy.
Matt’s hand reached over to rub the highest part of my bump and I raised my eyes to his.
“The rest did you well?” He was really getting into the rubbing.
“You aren’t stressed over what almost happened in the car? Bad flashbacks?”
The nap had been good, and I was now better able to view things with a clear mind.
It was a near miss, not even a near miss; Matt had slammed on the brakes before anything bad could happen.
It had been terrifying for those moments, but nothing bad had happened.
I wasn’t cursed, or if I had been, the curse was now lifted.
I shook my head.
“You are still the sweetest person I have ever known, Matt.”
Matt looked at me, his mouth parted in disbelief while his eyes filled with hope.
“And I need to pee.” Scrambling off the bed, I legged it to the en suite to relieve my bladder.
The tiles beneath my socks meant someone had removed my ankle boots, and my jacket I realized belatedly.
“What do you mean by that?” Matt’s voice came from right outside the door.
“Oh my gosh,” I yelped, halting the loud, tinkling flow in case he could hear it.
Wasn’t it bad to hold in your urine?
“Go away, Matt. I’m a little busy here.”
“Ok, but what did you mean?” he persisted.
The flow resumed and I sighed in relief on the heated porcelain seat.
Oh, I had missed this damned toilet seat.
What did it matter anyway?
We were once married.
“Exactly what I said,” came my reply as my tummy growled.
“Can you not loiter right outside the door? It’s rude.”
“I’ve heard it all before,” he retorted.
“Did you mean it in a good way or in a ‘you’re sweet like a cute puppy’ way?”
I snorted and reached for the loo roll.
“Puppy? What are you on about? Go away, Matt.”
The glimpses of shadow I could see under the door finally moved away.
When I finished my business and washed my hands, I spent a moment of nostalgia staring at what used to be my side of the double sink, then wondered if Matt had been sexing other women during our separation.
On the bed.
The bed I just woke up on.
Our bed.
Ugh.
He had, I knew my ex-husband and he had a high libido.
We definitely needed to talk about where things stood.
I headed for the door, getting angry at the thought of him boinking other women.
A quick yank to open it and I was ready to interrogate him.
“You slept around – Hi, Dr Nichols.” I had to verbally backtrack once I spotted my doctor being ushered into the room by Matt.
What was that machine thing he carried?
“Ms DuMont, I’ll need you on the bed, please.” Dr Rylan Nichols said, curt as usual.
I grimaced at the bed, now picturing Matt and some beautiful random woman…
women…
in various positions of carnal debauchery.
Did he go down on them?
He was a master at oral.
And he also had a great stroke game.
He could hit some spots, make your world tilt, bring you to almost immediate orgasmic bliss with that move he did at that weird angle…
“Ms DuMont?”
“Madi?”
Both Matt and Dr Nichols were observing me.
I was grinding my teeth and glaring at the bed.
Giving Matt a look that had his expression twisting in confusion, I headed for the chaise lounge.
Dr Nichols didn’t miss a step and simply followed me to the chaise lounge.
I laid down while Matt hovered for the duration of my examination.
My blood pressure was checked as was the heart rate of both babies and myself, and I was warned to keep an eye out for any type of spotting or general un-wellness.
“I’ll monitor her,” Matt said as he led Dr Nichols out the master bedroom.
The hell he would, I thought to myself while arranging my top into its proper place.
Hating the bed, I strode after Matt and my doctor, but Matt closed the door on my face before I could follow them out.
“The hell.” This was said out loud.
I grabbed the door handle but it twisted downwards without my help.
I stepped back as the door cracked open to reveal a frowning Matt.
“Two minutes,” he said under his breath.
“Then you can explain why you’re suddenly mad at me.”
And the door pulled close again.
An unwilling smile was growing on my face.
How did he do it?
Seemingly his mind-reading abilities hadn’t diminished where it concerned me.
True to his word, he was back in the bedroom within two minutes and found me in the closet searching for my jacket.
My boots were already on.
“What’s wrong?” Matt wanted to get straight to the point.
“You slept with other women, didn’t you?” I gave him the point and then some.
“Don’t deny it. I know you and I know how you are with sex. You’re a – a horn dog.”
Matt leaned against the doorway and folded his arms.
He had changed out of his work clothes and was sporting a plain black t-shirt and some jeans.
How had I not noticed that when I woke up?
Damned jeans looked good on him.
“Does the thought of it bother you?” he asked, smooth as silk and with a divine measure of calmness.
Stopping to rub both sides of my stomach, doing that helped calm me down, I gave him a dirty look.
“No. I’m not bothered.”
“You are.” he disputed with a glint in his eyes.
“It’s upsetting you. I can see it is.”
“I’m not upset.” I was upset, very upset.
“Who cares? Not me.”
Matt started towards me.
“You do care.”
“I don’t.”
“Do you know why I can say that with certainty?” Matt drawled, now inches away from me.
“You can’t,” My voice had gone all whispery, my stupid throat was getting clogged up.
Matt regarded me closely.
“Because it drove me mad,” He touched my arm, then curled his fingers around it.
“Thinking about you with someone else,” He exhaled loudly, the tiny flecks of gold around his irises burned with intensity as he bent his head.
“Because we belong together, poppet, and if it weren’t for these two,” He let his other hand drift over my stomach.
“I’d have you on your back right now,” He licked his lips, slowly, perhaps for my benefit.
“Unless you’d prefer me on my back, so you could ride the hell out of me, make me beg. You used to enjoy that.”
I swore I creamed my panties that very second.
“Ah, I see.”
“Do you?” Matt asked in a husky voice.
“I don’t think you do. I don’t think you fully appreciate exactly how much I want you, only you, maybe a demonstration is necessary.”
All the heavy breathing was coming from me.
“Umm, but, you,” I moistened my dry lips.
“You said you couldn’t, wouldn’t do anything-”
“I said we weren’t going to have sex while you’re pregnant with my children,” The look on his face went from smouldering to all consuming fiery flames.
“I meant penetrative sex, apologies for not being clear. There are so many other things we could do to each other.” He bit his lower lip.
It was one of the sexiest things I’d seen in a long while.
My panties were drenched, the crotch of my casual trousers was probably drenched also.
There was a major overflow of womanly juices taking place between my legs.
“Um,” I stammered like a fool, unable to form a proper sentence.
Matt blinked those long lashes at me then leaned in close enough for his lips to almost brush mine.
“Sex was never our problem, poppet.”
He was right.
Sex hadn’t been one of our main problems.
He had also evaded the question.
Fighting the urge to press my lips into his, I swallowed the lump of sexual frustration that currently squatted in my throat and asked again, “Did you sleep around though?”
Matt sighed, the rush of air across my lips felt heavenly.
Damn.
How sad was that?
“I came close, but I couldn’t in the end.” he reluctantly admitted.
With my bump nestled securely between us, I leaned backwards and frowned.
“Who was it? It was that woman from the papers, wasn’t it? The one you told me was a C.O.O. Your hand was all over her ass.”
His hand hadn’t been over her ass, but jealousy was a hell of a thing.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered and my eyebrows shot up, way up.
“Excuse me?” I took a step back.
“Didn’t you say we had to be upfront with each other if this,” I waved a hand between us.
“Is going to work?”
His shoulders slumped down and Matt ran an agitated hand through his hair.
“Don’t over-react.”
My eyes were squinty already.
“Who?”
“Remember,” he hedged, now rubbing his chin.
“I thought you had cheated, I was furious and devastated at the same time. I wasn’t in a good frame of mind.”
“Who. Was. It.” I was eyeballing him hard.
Matt took a deep breath then mumbled out a name.
“Say what?” I didn’t shriek.
My voice was low and dangerous whilst my hands clenched.
He glanced at me then closed his eyes in resignation.
Yeah.
He knew.
“How – could – you – be – so – stupid?” Each word was punctuated by a smack on his arms.
“Her? Of – all – the – bloody – women – that – skank! You! Idiot! I ought to -”
Matt, to his credit, took each blow without complaint until my hands got tired and I stopped sniffling.
He had gone back to her .
The evil cow who had destroyed our marriage.
I growled in anger.
Ha.
If Matt hadn’t been such a fool.
“You know,” I said, shaking my head in disgust.
“I don’t blame her . She didn’t force you to believe her, to go back to her. You fell for her games, hook, line and sinker. All because she’s one of you, one of the elite gang , and I wasn’t. Of course, you’re going to believe that viper over your own bloody wife! She set me up and you believed her. Stupid man. I bet you shagged her. You boinked her.”
“Poppet, I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. Things got a touch out of hand but I didn’t have intercourse with Loui- with her.”
Another vehement shake of head from me.
“I am furious with you right now, Matthew. I don’t even want to look at you, in fact, call me a taxi. I’m going home.” The loud growl came from my stomach and not my mouth this time.
“You must be hungry. Let’s eat first,” Matt’s tentative suggestion made me angrier.
“No. Go order me an Uber taxi, you have the app, right? And make sure it’s not too much money.” I turned, giving him my back and scowling at the floor.
I didn’t even want to see his damned reflection in the mirror.
“I can make you a chicken salad,” he offered.
“Or maybe beef? I think there are some cuts left over from what the chef prepared yesterday.”
I was fuming, but I needed to know.
Spitting venom, I asked, “Beef from Fortnum and Mason?”
“Maybe,” He came up behind me.
“Will you stay if it is?”
“Maybe.” I replied belligerently.
“You’re such an idiot.”
“There is nothing you can say that I haven’t already said to myself,” His forlorn tone tugged at my sympathy.
I spun around to face him.
“I can’t go through it again, Matt.”
His face fell.
“I love you too much,” I whispered.
“It hurts too much –mmph.”
We’d shared passionate kisses before, ones that deserved to be on the big screen winning accolades.
This kiss was more than passion.
Matt’s tongue swept past my lips without any resistance as I clung to his arms.
It was a first kiss, if that made any sense.
I felt as if it was our first kiss all over again.
Searching, aching, forceful yet so sweet…
I matched each stroke of his tongue with my own.
The intensity of it peaked and ebbed, like the ocean’s tide and as only liquid can, it left us floundering, drowning in each other and needing to come up for oxygen after a while.
Breathing heavily, Matt pressed soft kisses across my cheeks.
“Say it once more,”
“I love you.”
“Again.” Matt’s throaty demand made me smile.
Then I was laughing and crying at the same time.
“I love you. I’m an idiot and you’re the biggest asshole I know, but I’m in love with you.”
“We’ll make it work,” Matt pledged with raw determination as I peppered his jaw with teary kisses.
“It will be perfect this time around.”
I wasn’t too sure about the perfection thing, but I didn’t care and it felt as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
“I love you so much,” Matt whispered, holding me close.
He chuckled and looked down at my tummy which was in the way.
Then he went to his knees and started to kiss my stomach.
“All three of you.”
If I had felt true love for him before, it was nothing in comparison to the tidal wave of emotions flooding through me in that moment.
“We won’t rush,” Matt laid his head against me and I ran my hand through his hair as he continued.
“We’ll take things slow.”
A warning light flashed brightly amidst the soppiness in my mind.
Snap.
Did this mean what I think it did?
“You’re really not going to sex me anytime soon, are you?” I asked dryly.
Matt grinned up at me before launching into a full-blown conversation with my tummy, in French to boot.
I think there was some Italian and Russian thrown in there also.
I allowed him ten minutes of his mushy behaviour then stroked my fingers through his soft hair and cleared my throat.
“So this beef salad you mentioned,” I arched an expectant eyebrow.
“What’s happening with that?”