Chapter 17 – Juliette #2
“What do you want to talk about if we’re not talking about the farm?” he asked me.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. What do married people talk about?”
He leaned back in the booth with a smug expression. Like he’d won something. “Feelings?” he speculated.
My lips twisted into a smirk.
“Sex?” he prompted.
I blew out a breath. “That’s all you want to talk about.”
“Hardly,” he snorted. “But there is something we should discuss.”
“Go ahead.”
“Kids,” he said. “More specifically, babies.”
“Hard to do that from two bedrooms,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, immediately on the defensive.
I knew what he was getting at, of course. He believed that eventually I was going to cave and have sex with him.
(Hint: Eventually, I was going to cave and have sex with him.)
Not because he was pressuring me. Not because I had some sense that it was the right time to lose my virginity. I could honestly say that I wanted to have sex with him…because.
Which, isn’t that how everyone eventually comes to that decision? No matter what anyone’s situation was. Eventually you felt ready, you felt comfortable, you felt desire.
You had sex.
So a responsible conversation about preventing babies was a smart idea, but I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t tell him about the IUD because it was a secret I’d had to bury so deeply in my conscious that Herb would never even suspect I’d done it.
That I’d committed, what to him was, if not the ultimate sin, close to it.
I’d taken measures to prevent his bloodline from carrying on and if he’d known that, he might have tried to cut it out of my uterus with a paring knife.
So I couldn’t tell Creed it was there. Because I’d nearly willed it into non-existence through sheer denialism.
He leaned over the booth. “Forget us for a second. When you thought about your future, did you ever think about having a family?”
“Of course.”
He shook his head. “Nothing of course about it. You’ve given me glimpses of what life was like growing up with Herb. Not a far reach to imagine you didn’t see yourself as a mom to kids who might have a similar experience.”
“My kids wouldn’t have what I had. They’d have more. I’d give them more. Like I’d tried to do with Mar…”
“Margo,” he finished. “You think you have that kind of love inside you?”
I snorted. “Do you?”
His expression grew serious. “I don’t know, Jules. I really don’t. But I need you to know that I would try. That’s all I could promise. I’ve always been…a person with purpose. When I have intent, I accomplish what I intend.”
It might have been the most words he’d ever said to me about his feelings. And there was no way I could discount the words as trivial.
“It just seems so far-fetched, though,” I said, confused by what I was feeling.
“What does?”
“That there could be feelings. Between us. I hate what you did to me.”
“What I did or what Herb did?” he pressed.
“If you hadn’t been there none of this would have happened. He would have just died and then everything would have been left to me.”
“You don’t know that,” Creed said. “If I hadn’t been there…he might have just gotten more desperate. He might have put the entire property into a trusteeship and some lawyer would have had control over all of it, and you.”
“Have you two decided?”
I’d been so focused on Creed, I’d missed Susan’s return to the table.
Creed handed her both our menus. “She’ll have the alfredo fettucine. I’ll have the ribeye, rare, but can I have an extra plate because she’ll want a few bites of my steak. I’ll do the loaded baked potato for a side and we’ll share the parmesan creamed spinach.”
Fuck. That sounded delicious. Pasta anything was my default go to and there wasn’t enough cheese in the world for me now that I could buy it whenever I wanted.
“Excellent choice,” Susan said, taking the menus. “The creamed spinach is my favorite.”
“Yeah, my wife won’t eat vegetables unless they’re covered in cheese,” he said, looking directly at me.
He was right.
The champagne came with its own ice bucket and my first sip was cautious. I shared Creed’s opinion that it felt like dry, fizzy water. If dry water was a thing. The delicate flute they served it in was beautiful.
The whole experience made me feel like a proper adult.
The food came and it was better than anything I’d ever had. I wanted the recipes but I had this stupid idea that if I could make food as good as this, then Creed would never have a reason to take me here again.
And of course, I wanted to come back. Who wouldn’t?
Except then, Susan came walking through the restaurant, weaving in and out of tables, in her crisp waitress outfit, all while holding the largest piece of chocolate cake I’d ever seen with a lit candle on top.
It took a long time, probably longer than it should have, for me to realize she was headed in my direction. I blamed that on the two glasses of champagne.
“Here you go, birthday girl,” Susan announced, as she set the plate in front of me.
Creed opened his mouth and took a deep breath like he was about to launch into song.
“Sing in this restaurant and I will gut you like a chicken while you sleep in your bed,” I told him.
Susan’s expression might have faltered for a second, but Creed just laughed.
He paid the bill without looking at it too hard. Like a boss. And I took half the cake and half my pasta dish home in to-go containers.
While I sat in the truck, the open landscape shooting by the window as the sun started to set, my corsage covered wrist clasped around my leftovers, I had to acknowledge that it was nothing short of the best night of my life.
“You can’t have my leftovers,” I said, as we drove home. “I mean, unless you ask permission and then I’ll share with you. But, just don’t eat them, okay?”
“Fair enough,” he said. “It’s your birthday cake.”
“I know you probably think we should have sex tonight,” I began.
He reached over and grabbed my knee, not taking his eyes off the road. “Jules,” he barked. “There is no fucking should. You get that, right? I never want to think you’re in my bed for some transactional reason. If you’re there, it’s because you want to be there. Hard stop.”
I nodded, feeling my throat get tight. “I know that,” I said. “You kept your promise. About that stuff. I just…I mean, I know it’s probably going to hurt.”
“It will, Jules,” he sighed, even as he squeezed my knee. “It’s sucks it has to be that way for women, and I’ll try to make it as good as I can, but you’ve had your hand around my dick. You know I’m a big dude.”
I had had my hand around his dick and I did know he was a big dude. That’s why I didn’t want it to be tonight.
“I just want to remember this night like this, you know? All the good stuff and none of the pain.”
He nodded once in acknowledgement.
But it had to be some sort of fucking universal truth that the best night of my life had to be followed shortly after by the worst.