A REASON FOR MARRIAGE

Their breathing sounded harsh in the small space, and she could imagine him trying to make sense of what he was looking at.

Sara could feel the tension come into Simon’s body. His arm grew even more rigid around her. She knew it wouldn’t take long for him to make sense of it. Pregnancy tests were idiot proof and the results immediate-the word ‘pregnant’ wouldn’t have taken a six-year-old long to figure out.

And then abruptly, so abruptly that she stumbled a little, Simon released her. She turned round to look up but he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at the pregnancy test. After a long, tense moment he finally looked at her and she fought not to wince under his almost-black look.

“It’s pretty self-explanatory.” She said,

Simon nodded. “Yes, crystal-clear.”

He turned and walked back into the sitting room, holding the test in his hand. Sara followed warily. He turned then, and she stopped in her tracks at the harsh lines on his face.

“And were you planning on keeping this little secret to yourself, too, shouldering this as another burden? Another mistake?”

Pain lanced her. “I did the test just before you arrived. My period is late…I’ve been feeling a bit sick today, so I bought this on my way back from work. Of course I would have told you.”

Eventually….

“Oh, really?” His voice could have turned milk sour. “I find that hard to believe, when you were about to throw it in the bin as nothing more than a piece of rubbish. Perhaps you’ve already decided what you want to do with our baby.”

Our baby.

The simple words of acknowledgement and acceptance rocked through Sara like an atom bomb. She put her hands instinctively on her still-flat belly. “Of course I haven’t decided anything, and certainly not what you seem to be implying. And I was going to tell you. It’s just…I’ve barely had time to take it in myself. I think you can agree that today has packed more than its fair punch.”

Hating herself for feeling so weak as another wave of dizziness washed over her, she couldn’t help swaying slightly. The word resounded in her head: pregnant. She’d really made a mess of things this time.

With a muttered curse Simon was by her side and made her sit down on the couch. “When was the last time you ate?”

Sara had to struggle to recall.

Simon cursed again colorfully. “Don’t tell me you haven’t even eaten all day?”

He threw off his coat and went into her kitchen and started opening the fridge and looking on her open shelves. Feeling totally bemused and numb, Sara watched as he took out bread, butter, cheese, tomatoes and made a sandwich. He brought it back over on a plate and handed it to her, watching her until she’d eaten the whole thing, even though it was the size of a doorstep.

When she was done, he took the plate and set it aside, then he stood up and started to pace.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He looked disheveled all over, and Sara could feel her pulse stirring to life. His shirt was coming out of his trousers, the top button of his shirt undone. He rounded on her then, taking her by surprise. Her eyes had been on his bottom, and she coloured guiltily. How could she be thinking of that at a time like this?

But it seemed as if she was not the only one. Simon dropped down onto the couch beside her, coming close, and before she could stop him he was undoing the top button of her shirt.

“That’s better. I can’t concentrate when you’re all buttoned up like that.”This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

Sara backed away into the corner of the couch.

Simon’s brows rose. “It’s a bit late for that, don’t you think?”

She was beginning to feel stifled, threatened-sensory overload. She shimmied out from under him and stood up. Simon sat back and looked up from under hooded lids. Sara’s insides clenched.

“So when do you think it happened?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” said crisply, and then remembered the back of the car that night after the charity ball. It could have been then… If she’d been paying attention, she’d have known that day was unsafe for unprotected sex. Colour washed through her cheeks again. She looked down and caught his eye. She couldn’t read his expression. But it seemed as if he could read her mind.

“Yes, there was that time. Or the bath afterwards.” he said. Simon had known well he was being careless, but for the first time in his life that concern had assumed secondary place to fulfilling his physical needs. And in the intervening days he hadn’t even thought about it. More fool him. Yet, even more astounding to him right now was the equanimity he felt in the face of this news. In fact, what he was feeling was an inordinate sense of rightness. A sense of something his grandfather had passed onto him, something he’d never realized he possessed before: a sense of family.

Along with it came a zealous desire to give this child, his child, the acknowledgement, love and protection he or she deserved. The revelation stunned him.

Sara started to pace, anything to avoid looking at him, wanting him. She had to sort her head out. She couldn’t let him distract her.

“Look. This has happened. It was reckless and silly, but we both know where you stand on this kind of thing.” She told him.

He stood up and was immediately dangerous, towering over her. “Oh, we do?”

Sara felt like stamping her foot childishly. “Yes! I can’t imagine you’re happy to be faced with a pregnant-”

“Mistress?” he asked equably.

“I hate that word. I’m not your mistress.”

“Then what are you? Go on-say it, Sara.”

He was goading her, teasing her, even now. She glared up at him, arms crossed. “I’m your latest lover. The one in between your last one and your next one.”

His expression hardened, his eyes flashed. “Yes. But now you’re my pregnant lover, so that changes things somewhat.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you’re seriously happy with this?”

“Not happy, exactly, no,”he bit out, feeling defensive. “But how do you know that I haven’t always wanted a child someday?”

“Have you?” she shot back.