Page 45 of The Breath Before Forever

Silently, Vaslav handed the handle loops over. She wasn’t particularly polite about the way she snatched the bag from his hand, and she didn’t soften the sarcasm when she told him, “I’m so glad Hannah only used four so I have two left to placate you.”

Vaslav’s expression didn’t change. “What about Hannah?”

Vera dead-stared her husband as she backed away from him while pulling one of the two tests remaining in the bag out. It didn’t matter now—he wanted her to take a fucking test so badly that he would be willing to force her to do so, then she’d take a test for him.

“No big deal,” she told Vaslav, waving the pink and white pregnancy test box for him to see even though the man couldn’t take his eyes off of it. Like it might bite him or something. “It’s just a piece of plastic. That’s useless to me, by the way, since I’m not the one who’s pregnant. Good thing you didn’t open the trash can down the hall, you would have found the used ones from yesterday.”

That time, Vaslav’s brows lifted subtly. He remained silent, though, observing her head into the bathroom from where he had stayed in the doorway between the connecting suites. Once Vera had made it to the commode and shoved her leggings and panties down to her knees, Vaslav had come to stand just beyond the bathroom door. She discarded the packaging for the test, but hesitated before doing anything further.

Instead, she sat down on the lid of the toilet seat, flicking that strip of thin plastic against her palm. Vaslav couldn’t look away from the pregnancy test, not even to see the way tears threatened to spill from his wife’s eyes.

It wasn’t right.

None of this.

“I’ll take the test for you,” Vera said, “but you have to tell me why you want me to.”

Vaslav’s chin tipped up an inch, and he sucked air through his teeth like he might actually be considering her request as if it was a valid offer. “I didn’t realize my demand came with an opportunity for a counteroffer.”

“Vaslav, I took a pregnancy test a month ago before I got my Depo shot. Standard. I get one every time. It was negative.”

Vera didn’t care about the pregnancy test at the end of the day, or even the fact that he wanted her to take one. She knew what it would say—she absolutely was not pregnant, so if he needed to see actual, real proof of that, then so be it.

She’d always been good at emptying her bladder on demand when she’d grown up with call times and marks to hit.

“I’ll take the test, but you’re damn well going to tell me why you acted the way you did about it,” Vera stated, offering no room for argument.

“Or. What.”

She drew her line.

He’d not crossed it.

This time, Vera was the one who couldn’t see the line he made for her to stay behind. A precarious game to play with Vaslav. He played to win, and for keeps.

“You’ll sleep alone,” Vera told him.

Vaslav scowled at the news, but at least, he kept his gaze averted while she peed. She continued, needing the steady stream of urine for three to five seconds on the end of the stick, to say, “And if you try any of that shit with me again, without at least the decency to explain what’s triggered you so much, then the trip I take to my mother and father’s this spring can be extended, Vaslav.”

His jaw clenched.

“You didn’t say anything about a trip to visit your parents in the spring,” he muttered through tight teeth.

Yeah, well.

“I’m mentioning it now,” Vera returned.

He finally turned his gaze back on her after the plastic test clattered to the countertop once she’d capped the grossest end. Finally, he seemed to put the issue of the pregnancy test out of his mind, and he didn’t stare at it obsessively like before.

Not that his change in attitude helped how she felt.

“They’re digital. Hannah couldn’t be bothered with the regular ones, like she didn’t already know what the answer would be when she’s four days late, so we won’t get an answer for least five minutes. It blinks pregnant,” Vera said, shrugging, “Or not on the screen there.”

She waved at the test, and then him. “Your turn.”

“You really need to stop talking to Bogdan,” Vaslav bitched under his breath. “I hate it when you use the words he does—triggers, and the rest ... it’s not about—”

“Frankly, I’d like not to have to talk with your brain surgeon on a regular basis, either, but since he’s the only human on earth with some form of a medical degree that you’re willing to talk to, I’ve got to work with what I have, Vas.”