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“In what way?” she asked in a husk of a voice, as though she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.
“You were angry with your body. I was frustrated that I couldn’t give you what you want. I like giving you everything you ask for. It pleases me to spoil you. That I can.”
“BDE,” she said under her breath.
He froze. “You’ve accused me of that many times. Are you getting your memory back?”
“What? No.” A small pulse seemed to cause her foot to tic in his hands. “But I know what Big Dick Energy is and you definitely have it.”
“Hmph.” He went back to massaging her foot, wondering if he wanted her to get her memory back when this felt like a second chance for them. Rather than a wall between them, they had a blank slate that at least didn’t have the difficult passages of their history written upon it.
“Can I ask you something?” Her voice was timid enough to stall his hands again. “How do you feel about your adoption. Like, really. Deep down?”
“I think being adopted saved my life and kept me out of jail. Mostly,” he added drily. “Look, I know it was hypocritical that I wanted us to make a baby. I see now how selfish that was, considering how hard it became on you, but...” He squeezed her foot, feeling as though his lungs were being compressed, pushing out all the air. He drew in a deep breath, refilling them before he admitted, “There’s something about knowing our baby is a combination of both of us that pleases me. I don’t have anyone, Alexandra. Just you.”
He heard her sharp inhale.
“You have your parents,” he acknowledged. “But you’ve never had a good relationship with them. From the night we met, you made me feel as though you only had me. That you needed me as much as I needed you.”
“Do you?” she asked skeptically.
“Yes. When we’re on our game, we’re a formidable team. Having a baby with you, one who has all the best parts of us...? Or the worst,” he added with a husk of dark laughter. “Either way, I want that. I want our baby very much.”
She was quiet, teeth worrying the edge of her lip.
“And you? How do you feel?” he prompted. “About becoming a mother?”
Her foot withdrew to settle beside the other one. Her upraised knees formed a barrier between them. He watched her fists close and tuck beneath her elbows in a protective hug.
“I honestly don’t know,” she said with quiet anguish. “I know I should be happy. I know I will love my baby. I already do.” One fist moved to the spot between her breasts and she used the heel of her palm to rub her sternum, as though trying to soothe a pain there. “I can imagine holding a newborn, but I can’t—I can’t picture being a mother.”
Her bottom lip was quivering as if she was very near tears.
“Alexandra.” He looped his arm around her bent legs and set his mouth against her knee. “I’m sure that will come with time. This is a strange circumstance. It’s okay that it’s a shock. The baby isn’t due until Christmas. You’ll have time to process.”
“But do you really believe we can be good parents?” She carefully lifted the edge of her mask to peer at him. “Whatever team we were before... Do you honestly believe we were strong enough to sustain twenty years together? And support our child in all the ways we’ll need to? What happens between you and me in all that time?”
“We relearn how to be us. And yes, I absolutely believe we will be together for the rest of our lives.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I don’t lose the things I value.”
“I’m not a thing, Rafael. Unless you realize that, I don’t know that we do have a chance.” She let the mask drop back into place then rolled onto her side, knees still bent and feet jammed against the sofa back. She curled her arm beneath the cushion under her ear and listened to Richard Gere climb a fire escape to rescue Julia Roberts.
With careful management, Sasha had three days of only a leaden headache, not an incapacitating one.
“That’s good,” Rafael said when they were eating lunch in the dimmed light of the shuttered dining room. “You can come to the gala with me tonight.”
“Why?” He might as well have suggested sending her to a work camp in Siberia. “I won’t know anyone.”
That was a lie, of course, but she was too deep into this bigger lie to say anything different. She couldn’t seem to regret pretending her memory loss, either. He was revealing fascinating and sometimes painful things, but she was also able to be more honest about her own feelings than she had ever been before. The other night, she had told him about her ambivalence around motherhood and he’d been very sweet and nonjudgmental.
“People need to see that we’re fine, Alexandra.”
“We’re not fine.”
His gaze flashed up to hers. “We’re getting along perfectly.”
