I turned around slowly, facing her. I thought about the way our lips had fit together, kissing like there were no consequences, yet knowing I shouldn’t even be thinking of her like that. My teeth mashed together, my jaw tight. Best to pretend it never happened.
But I was weak, powerless to deny the hold she had over me. I couldn’t help myself - I looked down into her brown eyes.
They were round and big; I saw a yearning in them that I was sure was mirrored in my gaze. I wanted her so fucking badly. I needed to feel something warm, a real woman, not a cold heartless bitch who didn’t even want to look at me, let alone touch me.
That’s your wife you’re talking about, my mind reminded me, and I shook my head with a groan.
“Are you okay?” Mila asked softly, her hand about to reach out, but she hesitated and withdrew.
I took a step closer, knowing full well what a dangerous game I was playing.
Although we were barely a foot apart, I closed the distance between us, and her lips parted. “You can’t avoid talking to me forever,” I whispered, my hand moving up of its own accord to touch those plump lips.
I thought she would let me do it, I really did, but just before my fingers connected with her mouth, she took a step back, breaking eye contact.
Feeling like a bucket of cold water had been poured over my head, I looked away, too. This was never going to work and I wanted to lash out.
“Your fuck buddy was here today, by the way,” I said.
“What?”
“Mark, the creep that had his hands all over you at the bar. The one I told you to stay the fuck away from!” I said my voice escalating to a roar.
“Well… I didn’t invite him, if that’s what you’re thinking!”
“Then why was he here?” I yelled, losing my patience my sanity.
“I think you should go,” Mila said in a shaky voice, and I nodded.
“That’s probably a good idea,” I mumbled incoherently, grabbed my toolbox and headed towards the door.
Mila moved away so there was no chance of us touching, and I was grateful and angry with her all at the same time. The confusing emotions wrought havoc on my mind, and I already felt a headache coming on.
“Have a nice evening,” I wished her stiffly, and she remained silent, trailing behind me at a safe distance to the exit. Without another word or look, she shut the door behind me. I stood at the top of the stairs on the welcome mat, feeling not very welcome at all, as the clink of the lock echoed behind me.
“What were you thinking? You idiot,” I mumbled under my breath, finally retreating back to the house.
It was half an hour later when I realised that goddamn wrench was still in Mila’s bathroom.
15
Mila
The days started to pass, just like they always do, each day getting a little less painful than the last. I was trying my best to avoid the house, steering clear of Monique and especially Devan. How had I managed to screw it all up before we had even started? I asked myself as the constricting feeling in my chest persisted.
The day for the embryo implantation was drawing nearer, and I was twisted with doubts and worries. Eventually, only days before D-Day, I realised I needed to talk to someone; keeping all the drama locked up inside, buried away, was eating me alive. I needed to be brave and share some of the burden before I went crazy and lost it.
I considered calling my cousin Suzanne but decided against it in the end. She’d been the one who’d had the surrogacy idea in the first place, and I didn’t want to disappoint her on top of everyone else. Even then, she was a perceptive one; she’d know that I was holding another burden back from her. I couldn’t risk her finding out about my feelings for Devan.
But as if my prayers had been answered, my cell phone rang in my hand, and I checked the caller ID – my father. I cleared my throat, banishing any trace of sadness.
We were reasonably close, but we didn’t speak too often. I considered ignoring the call, but something prompted me to answer the incessant ringing nonetheless; I’d always been able to talk to him about stuff going on in my life. So why not now?
“Hi, Dad,” I said.
“Hi honey,” dad’s low voice came over the line. “I was wondering how you’ve been doing. Haven’t heard from you in a while. How are you liking your stay at Dev and Monique’s?”
I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders once I heard his voice but I swallowed the insistent lump in my throat, forcing myself to make my voice as cheerful as possible. “It’s fun,” I managed to get out, but it sounded more like a strangled cry.
A long pause followed, and I knew my dad was onto me.