Authors: Vivienne Harris-Scott
“
Speaking of birthdays, have you made
plans?
“
Melissa asked, capitulating. The Belinda subject was still a waste of time.
“
Well, I was wondering
…
could you stay?
”
He looked at her with pleading eyes.
She
didn
’
t
reply immediately, she was thinking about the logistics of it all if she went
back to London with her husband in a few days and had to return less than three
weeks later.
He mistook her silence for a negative
answer, and asked again
,
“
Please
Mel? Look I
’
ve
spent all these months with mother while you were back in London, now she
’
s gone and the house is empty
…
I have no one here
…”
“
You have Ethan.
”
she replied, eyebrows raised.
“
Yes, Ethan can always be counted on
…”
he sighed and conceded.
“
But he
’
s got his own troubles, his wife is
pregnant and ill. I can
’
t
ask him to drop everything! He
’
s
helped me enough
…
He
’
s in charge of the state for God
’
s sake
…”
his voice trailed.
“
I
’
m asking you
…”
he pleaded.
“
Okay. I
’
ll stay until Maddie
’
s birthday. The girls and I will keep you
company. Charlie needs to return to his patients, I can
’
t ask him to stay here for a month
…”
she made a hand gesture.
“
Thank you. Thank you!
”
He got up from his stool, went around the
island, and kissed her on the cheek.
”
Well, what do you think about clowns and
bouncing castles?
”
he joyfully asked, relieved.
She
laughed.
Julian
felt absolutely primed for whatever challenges would come his way; his
frustrated and lonely feelings had dissipated.
If
only temporarily.
CHAPTER 47
Vi
“
He
left me no choice
”
I stated, stubbornly.
“
Mami
…”
she replied softly.
“
No. Look, I needed to think, and if I had
come to Boston as scheduled, I
’
m
certain he
’
d
turned up at your front door within hours of my arrival!
”
I spat, my voice rising.
“
I can deal with Mr McCarty, trust me
…”
Lily taunted, which brought on a full
smile to my face, while she continued,
”
But I
’
ll indulge you, how long do you plan to
stay at Deric
’
s?
”
“
As long as I want to. I don
’
t have to work for another couple of
months
…”
I retorted, curling on the large wicker chair on the porch where I was watching
the waves.
“
Months? You need to do the test if you
are!
”
she said alarmingly, adding,
“
I
can fly over if you want
…”
“
Lil, I am not pregnant. I can
’
t be, remember?
”
I said, laughing bitterly.
“
I
’
m the doctor. You
’
re not. What you are describing sounds a
lot like your body is going through hormonal changes, and if it
’
s not pregnancy, then it
’
s
…”
she stated, her voice steady, undeterred
by my argument.
“
Please don
’
t say it
…”
I begged, shutting my eyes, doing a
silent prayer.
“
The cancer might be back.
”
she punctuated, resolute.
“
It
’
s just stress Lil. This thing with Julian
has been an emotional roller coaster. It has forced me to think of E. and you
know how drained I get at the mere thought of him! Add my work with the Sheik,
and then a few long hauls in between. Of course, I
’
m a little bit exhausted
…”
I declared, trying to reassure her and
myself in the process.
“
Baby girl, you have been in Langkawi for
over two weeks now, so the jet lag excuse can
’
t fly!
”
she laughed, amused by her own wit, then
pursued in a heavier tone,
”
You
tell me that you
’
ve
been sleeping over ten hours a day
,
yet you feel light headed almost every day. There are no stress or work issue
here. You
’
re
losing hair and don
’
t
know why...
”
she continued,
“
As
to Julian, well, you haven
’
t
spoken to him in weeks, and he doesn
’
t even know where you are, and we won
’
t talk about E. so, really
…”
she countered with all the logic she
could muster.
“
Well, I haven
’
t been throwing up! I don
’
t think I even gained any weight! More
like lost a few kilos! My stomach is flat, my breasts are not swollen, at
least, I don
’
t
think. Trust me, I am not pregnant. I simply can
’
t be.
”
I said trying to convince her, doubt
creeping into my mind and fear gripping my stomach as I tried to remember when
was the last time I had my periods.
“
Vi?
”
she said tentatively.
“
Yes,
”
I said, knowing what was coming.
“
Do it for me, honey. Just buy a home test,
and do it. So we can rule it out. Then you do have to come and see me in
Boston, you are due for
…”
she pleaded.
“
Lil, please.
“
I interrupted.
“
Let me talk to Deric,
”
she cut in with a cold voice, the
unmistakable hard edge back in full force.
“
Lil
…”
I started, feeling my own temper flare.
“
No. You want to do this the hard way. Let
me speak with Deric. Whether you are pregnant or not is irrelevant. Something
is up with your body, and if you don
’
t care enough to find out, I
’
m sure he does!
”
she demanded.
“
Fine!
”
I relented.
“
Fine what?
”
she replied, irritated.
“
I
’
ll take the home test. But Lil, this
simply can
’
t
be
…”
I said shakily.
“
When are coming to Boston? You are due for
your tests. I can
’
t
have you jet around the globe, not knowing if you are Ok. Do you understand me?
”
she asked sternly, unimpressed by my
relenting.
I
knew she would not let up. I was angry but also grateful she cared so much
about me.
“
Give me a week, two at the most. I
’
ll come over.
”
I sighed.
((~~!~~))
That evening when I go to bed, I touch my
stomach trying to feel if there is something growing inside me without my
knowledge.
I
’
m terrified.
I
push the idea away. I can
’
t
be pregnant. Ethan was there the last time. I can
’
t be pregnant because I
’
m not sure I can do this alone.
In
fact, I know I shouldn
’
t
be doing this at all.
I
can
’
t
be pregnant because I
’
m
afraid, having a child will break me.
Again.
Vi
July 2004. Darling Harbour. Sydney.
Australia.
The beast has been unleashed.
Since
that night.
I
can
’
t
get enough.
Enough
pleasure, whether it comes in the form of food, books, love or sex.
I
feel ravenous. Voracious. Constantly.
I
am myself again.
((~~!~~))
The next morning had been a Friday, so
Ethan didn
’
t
have to go to his office until the afternoon. I had woken up to empty bed, but
knew Ethan would be somewhere in our home. After I had my shower, and was done
with my morning intake of medication, I had found him downstairs in the dining
room. When Marina had brought us breakfast, I tore into it, only interrupting
my feast to drink my shake or juices, and within minutes, nothing was left on
my various plates. Bacon, eggs, muffins, ham, fruit salads, and yoghurt had all
but vanished; mere crumbs on the white porcelain indicating that at some point,
food had indeed been there. And to my dismay, the half dozen croissants,
crumpets
,
and fruit
danishes
Ethan and I were supposed to share, had too disappeared from the pastry basket.
Into
my belly.
It
’
s only when my hand had reached for another
piece of food, and came with nothing, that I had looked up.
Ethan
was watching me, his elbows on the table, head resting on his palms.
As
our eyes finally met, he broke the silence and smiling, asked with a slight
smirk,
“
Vic,
Are you hungry?
”
Looking
around, and realizing that I had eaten everything but the fruits on his plate
and the coffee he was drinking, I blushed. Furiously.
"I
guess so, I can
’
t
seem to have enough," I laughed, uneasily.
“
Well, it seems, I
‘
ll have to instruct Marina to prepare more
from now on. Apparently cooking for four when it
’
s only the two of us, is no longer
adequate
…
.
”
he chuckled.
We
just look at each other as Marina enters the room, picks up the empty dishes
and leaves.
“
I- I don
’
t know what
’
s come over me. I
’
ve never eaten so much!
”
I feel embarrassed, apologetic.
He
looks at me, and oddly, his cheeks are turning crimson, while his eyes display
mirth.
I
am puzzled by his expression, and say so,
“
E? What is it? Why are you looking at me
like this?
”
With
a broad grin, he replies,
“
Baby,
I
’
m
going to be blunt, but I think you
’
re
hungry because of last night.
”
“
W-what? Last night?
“
I stammer as I recall him repeatedly
pleasuring me, until I fell asleep.
He
clears his throat and softly says,
“
Vic, you just need to replenish your
energies, that
’
s
all. There
’
s
nothing to be embarrassed about. It
’
s good for you and the baby. Eat and enjoy
it. I
’
ll
talk to Marina.
”
But
I am no longer listening to him.
Last
night.
Last
night, I let my husband, touch me.
Really
touch me.
For
the first time since the night our baby was conceived.
I
actually begged him to touch
me.
And,
I have no regrets.
In
fact, I wouldn
’
t
mind doing it again.
I
am shocked to feel I am now hungry for his touch. Just like old times.
What
the hell is happening to me? When did I start looking at E. as my husband again
and stopped seeing my rapist?
I
know when.
The
minute he told me he
’
d
do whatever it took to get me healed so I could have our baby.
The
minute my body didn
’
t
recoil in his presence.
The
minute he apologized and I could see the sincerity in his eyes.
The
night my belly popped.
The
first night I went back to our bed.
Yes,
I think that particular night was when things definitely turned for me.
It
was only a matter of time from then on. Whether I consciously made the decision
or not.
That
night, Ethan McGregor resurfaced in my mind, in my heart, my soul, as my E, not
the stranger who had raped me and terrified me for weeks afterwards.
Then
it was only natural, my yin, with the traits that made me love him in the first
place, reappeared as well.
And,
he did.
The
minute he asked my permission to touch me,
The
minute his mouth gave me my first orgasm.
Then
the gates re-opened, and I wanted him. I was his. Again.
Ethan
McGregor.
The
Ethan who always knew what I needed.
The
Ethan I married.
My
husband.
My
Yin.
((~~!~~))
Miraculously more food has appeared on the
table while I have been lost in my thoughts.
I
grasp a couple of grapes, and I tilt my head, observing him.
He
’
s reading the papers, but he looks up, and
our eyes cross, his are glowing; mine, I
’
m sure, must look shocked.
I
say in an unsteady voice,
”
E.,
about last night
…”
He
smiles. He already knows.
I
feel my nipples stiffen, just by looking at his lips. My mouth closes, I can
’
t utter another word, so he prompts me,
and asks,
“
What
about last night?
”
I can see his own need in his gleaming blue eyes.
I
feel my throat go dry.
How
do I tell my husband, the man who once raped me, that I, now, want him?
That
I actually need him to do what he did to me last night, over, and over, and
over?
((~~!~~))
I
‘
m over 26 weeks pregnant, and I am in
love. With myself, my baby, my husband.
Silly,
I know.
Nevertheless,
considering where I started; I am in awe. I am whole and it is miraculous.
The
night Ethan touched me with love, respect and tenderness, liberated me. Once
again, Ethan has managed to find and push the hidden button inside me, the very
same one who made us who we are to each other.
Lily
was right when she said I needed to let myself love and everything would fall
into pace. It has.
Five
weeks ago, we became us, again. We have never been closer.
The
cancer is still there, in its bubble, but I
’
m on a constant endorphins high, so I don
’
t care.
I
feel nothing but happiness.
The
past five weeks have been the happiest of my life.
I
feel like a new me.
I
am.
I
am HUGE!
I
don
’
t
know how much weight I have gained, as I don
’
t weight myself, unless Dr. Beck asks me to,
but while my legs don
’
t
seem to have gained much, my breasts have expended from a regular 12C to a 12D,
they are full, and heavy and so sensitive; the slightest touch, makes them
hard.
My
belly is still round, but the little basketball that appeared at week 17 has
doubled in size and turned into the size of a giant cantaloupe! It has
overtaken the upper part of my body. I know the tumor is taking a chunk of
space, it has started to grow again according to the scans, but mostly my baby
is winning the battle for space. This baby has decided to kick my cancer out.
He
’
s
moving, A LOT.
Speaking
of which, I can now, not only feel him kick, but also see it. Yes, see it! It
’
s not full blown imprints but some sorts
of skin distensions. Sometimes, his little members kick so hard, it
’
s showing on my skin! And every time that
happens, it brings tears of joy to my eyes, and my heart swells with so much
love, it could explode.
E.
was actually the first to notice it, the skin changes, not the kicks; I had
that privilege. One night, as he was massaging my belly with oils, the baby had
actively moved and kicked, and E exclaimed with wonder in his eyes,
“
Baby, look- look
…”
and as I my eyes wandered down, I saw the
first visible sign of my son
’
s
movements on my distended belly skin.
We
both watched, mesmerized, until it vanished a few seconds later, and my skin
returned to normal, but in that instant, our son became a reality for us. We
both cried, and then kissed each other with a passion and love, we never had
felt before.
With
both our hands, enlaced on my protuberant belly, Ethan looked at me and said,
“
I love you. Never doubt that. You are the
mother of my child. You and our son are the most important thing there is, and
will ever be for me.
”
I
believed him.
I
pulled him against me, and he made love to my mouth, then to my breasts, and
then to my core.
These
past five weeks, I have never felt, so beautiful, so wanted, and so happy.