Fulfillment

CHAPTER ONE





Your body while incubating a baby is capable of many amazing, miraculous, and...well...let’s just say interesting things. Not only does it transform into a protective cocoon, shielding your little unborn progeny from the outside world, it also experiences some bat-shit crazy adjustments in the process—both physically and mentally.

My body had been experiencing these things in the two weeks it has been since Janette—the City Precinct Nurse—visited the apartment to check me over after being sick.

I remember the moment when she pulled the test strip out of the cup which held my hormone-affected urine and feeling as if she’d opened her mouth and said in a low, deep, slow-motion voice...‘You’re pregnant, Alexis’.

At first, I hadn’t known what to think—apart from being incredibly shocked. But, as the disbelief wore away, I found myself to be so angry at my own stupidity for forgetting to take my contraceptive pill in the first place. Yes, I had been a little preoccupied and distracted by the crazy turn of events my life had taken during the time in which my husband had confessed to having an affair. But I had taken my birth control pill on and off for half of my life, so to easily forget it like I had was completely careless.





I was having another baby, and it was not something I had planned, nor had it even been in my foreseeable future because, let’s face it, my life had recently been turned upside-down. I had just left a marriage of 12 years after finding out my husband had cheated on me—then he hadn’t cheated on me—then he had cheated on me. And, on top of his infidelity, I had also found out that he’d spawned his own offspring with the cheating bitch.

If that wasn’t reason enough to feel that carrying a baby in my retired womb was not such a great idea, then surely the fact that I had recently fallen deeply in love with my new employer was.

Bryce Edward Clark had pursued me tirelessly while I thought I was happily married. He had also taken it upon himself to go behind my back—in the form of an indecent proposal—and offer my husband an obscene amount of money to—in my words—‘pimp me out’.

So, was gestating, birthing and mothering another little human being at the age of 35 something I had planned? Hell no! Remarkably though, pregnancy hormones had a sneaky way of altering your thought pattern, and it was these hormones, together with constantly seeing the joy and elation Bryce displayed every time he looked at me, that had somewhat changed my mind.

If I had thought my Mr. Love-Smitten Clark had been absolutely and undoubtedly in love with me before carrying his child, then I was wrong. Because the way in which he looked at me now, and the way he had been acting around me for the past two weeks, was nothing shy of full-blown adoration and worship.

He kissed and touched my belly every chance that he got. He rubbed my back during the morning, and sometimes, noon and night sickness sessions. And, he delighted in cooking fresh, organic meals for me. He was just amazing and attentive, and I was so lucky to have him.

The thing is, with all the beautiful, loving and sentimental gestures, came many annoying and aggravating ones too, like demanding I let him give me a foot rub nightly—which I was still dead against. He also practically carried me around everywhere within the apartment—which was getting beyond the joke. And, he had been sparse with the ‘I need to be inside of yous’—because apparently, ‘having sex may be dangerous’. Dangerous!...Ha, I will be the one who is classified as dangerous if my Mr. Overprotective Clark does not have sex with me within the hour. Lucky for me, this was a foregone conclusion due to the fact that we were sitting together in the waiting room of my obstetrician’s office. You see, I had every intention in asking her to kindly inform Bryce that hot, loving, penetrative sex during pregnancy was not only safe, but essential in keeping the mother stress free and happy.





“Do you need some water?” Bryce asked while draping his arm over my shoulder and placing the other on my lap.

“No, I’m fine.” I squeezed his hand with my own as I read an article slandering Princess Kate for being too brazen in her choice of sunbathing attire. I mean really, give the poor woman a break. Stupid paparazzi. Get out of the bush you’re hiding in and get a life. Grrr, they annoy me.

Certain things had really upset and annoyed me lately, and I mean REALLY upset and annoyed me. Things I wouldn’t normally blink at, like privacy-invading paparazzi for one. But, there were other things, like road-kill, and Stephanie dying on ‘The Bold and The Beautiful’ which had me turned into a blubbering mess.

“Do you need anything at all?” he asked again. Apart from your long, glorious love-wand to enter my abandoned, yet eagerly expecting pleasure-tunnel? No...No, I don’t.