Page 33 of Pregnancy Clause in Their Paper Marriage
It was in the tiny pause Christos sometimes took before he spoke. It was in the way he smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners the way they always did, but she felt as if he were looking at something else, or maybe even inward. It was in the way he took her into his arms, the way he cherished her body, yet still, somehow, holding some essential part of himself back, so she was left completely and wonderfully sated, and yet still somehow feeling empty, wanting more.
She kept telling herself she was being ridiculous, oversensitive and maybe even delusional, and then she’d see him and feel it again, and knew she wasn’t. But maybe it wasn’t Christos who had changed; it was herself. She was aware of something she hadn’t been before, because this pregnancy had changed her, along with being with Christos in this new way. Maybe this was the way Christos had always acted with her and she hadn’t known, wouldn’t have been bothered if she had known, because that was how she’d been operating, too.
Hold yourself back. Keep your heart, that essential part of yourself, back, so you won’t get hurt, give someone the power to hurt you.
That had certainly become her MO since Anthony. Anthony, whom she’d felt as if she’d given everything to, even as she now wondered whether she’d truly loved him at all. She’d believed she had, certainly, and she’d certainly let him hurt her. She’d been so dazzled by the advertising exec ten years her senior who had sought her out, seemed to make her the centre of his world, wined and dined her, a girl from the sticks who had never known glamour or attention or interest. Never mind that he’d humiliated her more times than she could count—mocking her at her most exposed and vulnerable, complaining about her performance in bed, telling her she could never please a man. Studying her like a specimen and then squashing her like a bug. That was what she’d thought love was, but now she knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t anything like it.
But was this?
The question, over the last few weeks, had become more insistent even as she’d done her best to ignore it. She ignored it now as she got ready to go home, looking forward to a weekend of relaxing with Christos. It was so much simpler to focus on what they did together than how they did—or didn’t—feel. Because the truth was, whether it was love or not—and really, love was just a word—Lana was starting to fear that she cared more for Christos than he did for her.Thatwas what she was feeling...and she didn’t like it, not one bit.
She arrived home just after six, surprised to find Christos had already arrived and changed into casual clothes—chinos and an open-necked shirt in a pale green that made his eyes glint like jade. He was in the kitchen, perusing the cupboards with a frown, when she came through the front door.
‘I was thinking of cooking you something,’ he told her as she came up the stairs, ‘but I realised I’d have no idea what you’d be in the mood for.’
‘Idon’t know what I’m in the mood for,’ Lana replied with a smile. She wasn’t even joking. Since the morning sickness had hit, her food cravings changed by the hour, if not the minute, and sometimes she couldn’t manage anything at all. Her OB had told her the symptoms should ease soon, but that morning sickness could be a good sign that the baby was healthy and growing. She’d have her first ultrasound in just under a month, and already she couldn’t wait.
‘Shall I just order something in?’ Christos asked, opening the drawer where they kept all the takeaway menus. He wasn’t quite looking at her, hadn’t actually looked at her properly since she’d come home, and Lana felt it—but not enough to call him on it. She wouldn’t know what to say, and the truth was she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear his response.
‘Sure, let’s order something in,’ she said. ‘I’ll just go change.’
‘Before you do...’ Christos’s voice held a certain gravitas that she hadn’t heard in a long while, and Lana stilled, her heart already starting to thump. Was this the moment he’d tell her that he’d changed his mind, that he didn’t want to do this marriage and baby thing any more? She was braced for it, she realised, expecting it even, ready and yet not ready at all.
‘Yes?’ she asked, hoping her voice sounded light, mildly inquiring.
‘One of my sisters has reached out to me,’ Christos told her after one of those tiny pauses. ‘I haven’t told her or any of my family about the pregnancy yet, but it made me realise that I probably should. And that maybe you should meet them. We could go some time in the next few weeks, if you’re amenable. We won’t see them that often,’ he continued rather hurriedly, ‘and in fact, I rarely see them as it is. But...considering they’ll be this baby’s relatives, well.’ He shrugged, his gaze sliding away from hers. Again. ‘I want our child to know his or her family.’
‘So do I,’ Lana replied quietly. Especially as she didn’t have any family on her side—never having known her father and her mother dead. No siblings, no grandparents, none of that rambunctious and loving extended family that so many people took for granted, Christos, perhaps, included. ‘I’d love to meet them, Christos.’
He let out a breath and nodded slowly, almost in resignation. He didn’t look as if he was enjoying the prospect of such a meeting, far from it. He looked like a man who had just been told the date of his execution. Why?
She couldn’t, Lana knew, ask, although she wished she could. She wished they had that kind of relationship, that kind of trust, but they didn’t, and that much had been clear in the last month. They’d had lots of lovely evenings relaxing together, and even lovelier nights in bed. They’d had long, lazy brunches at restaurants in the city, and long, lazy walks through Central Park in the hazy heat of summer. They’d had enjoyable conversations about work, and life in the city, and had exchanged different sections of the newspapers, chatting about what they’d read. They’d shared so much, and yet in moments like this it felt like nothing at all, because they had not shared their hearts. They’d both made sure not to.
Lana had no idea what her husband was truly thinking or feeling in this moment, and she knew she couldn’t ask him, wouldn’t dare to. That was the agreement they’d made, after all, right at the beginning. No emotion. No soul-baring. No attachment and certainly no love. It wasn’t Christos’s fault that somehow, against her own better judgment, she was starting to change her mind. Her heart.
It wasn’t his fault at all, and she needed to get herself in linepronto, because falling in love with someone who had no interest in loving her was definitelynoton her agenda...and never would be.
‘Be back in a few minutes,’ she told him lightly, and walked back towards their shared bedroom. Whatever was going on with Christos and his family, she wouldn’t ask about it, Lana promised herself. She wouldn’t ask about anything, and she’d stop this pointless examination of her own feelings because she didn’twantto know how she felt—and she certainly didn’t want to feel it.
Christos stared out at the road stretching towards the horizon, his gaze on the hazy blue summer sky, his jaw tight. He rolled back his shoulders, which were also tight. He and Lana were driving to his father’s house on Long Island, where his three sisters and his father would be joining them. He hadn’t seen his father or Kristina, Sophia, and Thalia in longer than he cared to remember. More than months, probably years. He’d let time drift by without ever going home, even though it was only an hour and a half away. It had just always been easier to stay away. To not have to look in his sisters’ eyes and see their disappointment, never mind how his father could never even look at him in the eye at all. Everyone tried to hide it, of course, to pretend it wasn’t there, but he knew all the same. Hefeltit.
Not that he intended on telling Lana any of that. He’d enjoyed these last few months with her, in large part because theyhadn’tgot into all that stuff. They’d skimmed the surface of their emotions while enjoying the pleasure of each other’s company—and bodies. The perfect arrangement, exactly what he wanted, so he really had no idea why he was feeling so restless and antsy now.
Probably because he was going back home, a place that had filled him with only dread and sorrow ever since his mother had died twenty years ago and he’d failed her in the worst way possible.
‘Do you know,’ Lana said into the silence, and he could tell by her tone she was trying to sound light, even though she wasn’t feeling it, ‘I don’t know anything about your family? That seems strange, now.’
‘Why should it seem strange?’ he returned, his tone borderline surly. What waswrongwith him? ‘That’s how we both agreed it would be. Should be. I don’t know your family, either.’
She was quiet for her moment, and when Christos risked a sideways glance, he saw how thoughtful she looked, how opaque her eyes.
‘That’s true,’ she said finally. ‘I know your mother died when you were young, and you knew I grew up without a father.’ Something he never had asked about, for areason. ‘And that’s all we know about each other’s families.’
He stayed silent, deciding it was less risky than offering some commentary on her observation, which was making him feel uncomfortable for all sorts of complicated reasons.
‘Are you willing,’ she asked after another frozen pause, ‘to at least tell me their names?’
Guilt flashed through him, chased by irritation. She was making him sound as if he’d been unreasonable, and he hadn’t been. He’d simply held to their original agreement. She wasn’t going back on it, was she? The possibility filled him with both dread and something else he couldn’t name.