Page 27 of The Other Woman

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Page 27 of The Other Woman

“But I need it.” Damn his common sense, anyway. I woke up horny as shit, and he’s playing hard to get. It was still early in the morning, way before the kids were due to be up, and besides, they’d been spending the night in the in-law suite next door where Jacob had moved my parents for as long as they’d like.

They plan to stay here for at least a few months after the babies are born to help out. I didn’t know he had arranged all of that with them behind my back but it has been wonderful having all the extra help.

It's strange to imagine that I’ve had an easier pregnancy while carrying twins than I did with either of my previous pregnancies. Doug never wanted my parents to come stay with us, even though he didn’t help with anything.

Not only are my parents here, but I find myself having to beg Jacob to sit down and take a breath. This man doesn’t even lift his fork to his mouth until he’s assured himself that I and the kids were fine with what we’re having for dinner.

He's attentive, excited, and hands-on not only with me and the babies but with my two oldest as well. With the passing of time, I have reached the point where I don’t even remember my former life. It no longer intrudes on my thoughts, which are filled with my marriage and how happy I am when I least expected it.

But lately, he’s become impossible. He hasn’t touched me since my tummy dropped, and I can’t help but feel that old pain of feeling undesirable. I sniffled, and he dropped the magazine he’d been reading to look at me.

“What is it?” I just shook my head and tried to turn away. “Look at me.” He freaked when he saw the tears in my eyes. “What the hell? Rachel!”

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” We’d promised to always be honest with each other no matter what, so I had no choice but to tell him.

“For a minute there, I felt the way he used to make me feel when I was pregnant.”

“Come ‘ere.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in close to his side.

“I’m scared!” I didn’t expect those words to come from him.

“Scared of what?”

“That I’ll hurt you. I can’t look at you without wanting you, and I’m terrified that something will go wrong if I take you.”

A weight was lifted off my shoulders. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me and shutting yourself away in your office most nights?”

“Yeah, but I’m an ass. I never once thought that it would remind you of his mistreatment or that you’d think for one second that I didn’t want or cherish you.”

Could he be any more adorable? I lifted his hand and placed it on the mound of my tummy. “You won’t hurt me, I promise.” He studied my eyes as if looking for assurance and found it when I smiled.

We made love. It was slow, sweet, tender. It was everything I needed and more. When it was over, he held me in his arms until I fell asleep, feeling loved and fulfilled.

Sometime during the night, the pain started, and my husband lost his mind. He swore it was our lovemaking that had brought it on. Not the fact that I was ready to pop weeks ago. I was surprisingly calm, because he was doing all the worrying for both of us.

He had me packed up and in the car, had called everyone who needed to be notified, and was heading down the driveway less than ten minutes after my water broke. Helen and Victor were coming over to stay with their grandkids while his parents and mine were following us to the hospital.

I have never seen Jacob anything but in control until that night. He barked at anyone who got too close and wouldn’t let the poor orderly put me in the wheelchair they brought out to meet us, preferring to carry me himself.

He had this look on his face as if he was gritting his teeth the whole time, and I’m pretty sure he called the doctor an idiot because the pain meds hadn’t kicked in fast enough.

He swore up one side and down the other that he would never do this again. He stopped short of giving up sex for the rest of our lives. When our sons were born, I watched him deflate as if he’d been holding himself up by sheer will alone.

And then another pain hit when we thought all was over, and I thought he would take the hospital apart brick by brick. He stuttered and stammered when our daughter was born.

“Three? Which of you assholes can’t count?” He threatened to sue the doctor for almost giving him a heart attack. His precious daughter was too tiny. He swore if he had known she was in there, he would’ve made me eat more. I think he failed biology.

The hospital staff took it all in stride, but I knew he was strung too tight. When he hit the floor out cold, I think everyone breathed a sigh of relief. By the time he woke up, the babies had been tended to and were in the NICU for observation.

He woke up yelling about where his kids were and who had taken them. He ran those poor people ragged. Our parents were placed on security duty because, apparently, he didn’t trust the people he had hired for that job.

He hovered, he complained, he questioned and I loved every minute of it. I’ve never seen a man smile so damn wide. He spends a lot of time with his daughter because he claims he feels guilty for not knowing she was in there.

I’m not buying it, though; he already spoils Sara; he’s a girl dad. As for the other kids, he’s been spoiling them rotten ever since we got home. He doesn’t want them to feel left out.

He’s been reading books about step-parents and terrifying himself. I don’t think I’ve seen him without one kid latched onto him in days. He takes Kevin out for one-on-one time because he’s the oldest and the one most likely to get lost in the shuffle. Something he read somewhere, I guess.

Me? I’m allowed to breastfeed, that’s it. His mother and mine snuck me out for ice cream because I desperately wanted out of the damn house after two weeks. He threatened to disown them, and they had to sit through a half-hour lecture about why they were wrong for helping me escape.




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