39. Scarlet

THIRTY-NINE

SCARLET

I'm momentarily disoriented when I wake up. It's not a dream or sudden thought that has me stirring. Rather a feeling. A subconscious realization that I'm alone. And based on the cold, pristine condition of Remington's side of the bed, I have been all night.

I should go find him. But if I get up, then it's real. And things being real means we have to get answers and deal with their fallout. Not knowing makes me anxious but the potential for disappointment is too great to manage right now.

A part of me tries to reason that if I get up, I can get answers. That I may not have anything to potentially be disappointed over if I can bring myself to check the lot number and see if my batch is one of the ones under recall. Looking at Remington's empty side of the bed, however, I already know the answer to that question. If mine weren't a match to the ones being recalled then he would be here. Which leaves me with the question of what now?

Naturally I could and should take a test. If I pee on a stick, we'll know within a handful of minutes.

But…

My mind doesn't seem to want to go down the road of but . Just thinking it has my palms sweaty and my heart working a little harder. Indecision over which outcome I would favor more is at the forefront of my mind, while in the back, softly, almost unheard, an answer is given.

But…

No. I'm going to stop right here. There's no reason for me to go forward and analyze what I want just yet. Until I have the bandwidth to accept either outcome, I'm staying here in this bed.

Ignorance is bliss after all.

Resolute in my decision to put it off, I box up last night and shove it into a semi-forgotten corner of my mind. It's not a long term solution, but for the time being, it's what I need. That, and a mindless distraction.

Reaching for my nightstand, I find my phone on the charging dock and can't help but smile even when I see the godforsaken time of night. Despite needing his own pause on being present for me and us, Remington is still taking care of me, one small act of service at a time. And for a fleeting moment, the box opens again because this is the man I love. The one who charges my phone and runs its updates because I never do. The one who makes me coffee every morning and keeps my car's gas tank filled. The one who is always so steady and sure, my anchor and support.

This is Remington, my husband, my partner, my best friend, and the future father of my children… of my child… of a baby I could be…

Hand coming to rest low on my stomach, I allow myself one minute, sixty seconds, to think of this possibility.

There is no racing heart, no sweaty palms. There isn't any panic or swirling, obsessive thoughts. There's just… peace. Contentment. Hope. Longing.

I can't help but think that it might not be so bad because it's him. It's him and it's me and it's us. It may not be what we planned but neither was falling in love the way we did.

When the minute rolls over on my phone, I keep my promise to myself to rebox my thoughts, this time sealing it a little bit tighter and pushing it just a little further back. If only because I don't want that possibility tainted by thinking about what I'm realizing is the outcome I don't want.

Turning off my Do Not Disturb, a string of notifications rises up my phone's screen, a text from Remi at the top.

My Husband

Today 12:37 AM

My Husband

Hey, baby girl. Don't worry if you wake up before I get back. I needed to clear my head so I went for a drive. I love you

Today 2:15 AM

Scarlet

I love you too, Remi. I'll be in bed waiting for you. Take all the time you need. ??

My Husband

Baby, what are you doing awake? Go back to sleep

Scarlet

Can't sleep without you

My Husband

On my way. I love you

Scarlet

I love you too but don't rush. Take whatever time you need

My Husband

I'd rather be home with you, Scar

Scarlet

Good, because I need you here

My Husband

Twenty minutes tops

Scarlet

I'll be waiting. Be safe ??

I must've dozed off while scrolling through Instagram and taking screenshots of books I'll later forget I wanted to read because I'm waking up again, this time to the feeling of my phone being slipped from my fingers and lips pressed to my forehead. Though it couldn't have been long, my hands are heavy with sleep as I reach for Remington and try to pull him into bed with me. He comes easily, slipping under the blankets and wrapping an arm over me while another scoops under my pillow. For a brief moment, his hand that's reached over my waist hovers where it normally rests low on my abdomen. Lacing my fingers over top of his, I bring it down the rest of the way, pushing up my cami just enough to feel his warm, calloused palm against my lower stomach.

"Sleep now; worry tomorrow," I mumble, kissing him over my shoulder.

It's not until I feel his lips return my affection that I close my eyes again. And when I finally feel his body relax around my mine, his thumb sweeping back and forth on my skin, I fall asleep.

"Take the test, please."

"No," I repeat, stepping back from him as if the tests he holds are a metal detector and can sense pregnancy if I get too close.

"Scar, you're being impossible."

"Me? I'm being impossible? You're the one who woke me up to have me go pee on a stick because the instructions say morning urine provides the most accurate results."

As if he didn't hear me, he continues, "Just take the test. Any of them, all of them." He holds out four different pink ones, a purple one, and two blue ones.

"How many did you buy?"

"All of them. Name brand, storebrand, I didn't care. I got one of each in case we get a false positive or false negative because apparently that's a thing." Digging around in the bag he also pulls out a package of specimen cups and says, "Here, I got you these too so you just have to pee one time and we can stick the tests in."

Cupping his face, I enunciate, "You. Are. Insane." Then, stomping into the bathroom, I snatch my useless birth control case from the drawer, open it up, and say, "See these?" pointing to the three remaining peach colored pills. "This is how many days are left until my period. Those tests are a waste if I'm not even late yet."

"I thought you'd say that," he rebuts, shuffling through the ones in his hand. Picking out one pink and one blue, he tries to put them in my hand as he says, "So I got you these. They're supposed to detect pregnancy hormones six days before your missed period."

Circling back to my original argument from when he first woke me up, I say, "Remi, please listen to me. I do not want to know right now."

"Why though?"

"Because I need to figure out how I feel first!" I scream, making him jerk back from my outburst. Taking a breath, I softly apologize. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be screaming at you. I just need to know how I feel first and prepare myself. I need time."

Finally dropping everything, Remington takes my hands and backs me up to sit on the edge of the tub. Kneeling before me, he rubs his hands over my thighs several times before soothing, "Baby, you don't need to apologize. You're stressed out. I'm stressed out. This whole thing is a mess."

I only nod my head, unable to look at him.

Undeterred, he reaches up and cups the side of my face, thumb gently stroking up my cheekbone. Pulling me close, he kisses my forehead and murmurs, "If you're concerned about school and your career, don't be. We'll figure it out. If my ma was able to manage at sixteen without a support network and living paycheck to paycheck, then we can do this. You and me. This won't be your burden to bear. Absolute worst case, I'll retire so one of us is always with her."

"Her?"

"Yeah, I kind of like the idea of having a mini-you."

"I'm scared."

"So am I, but I've got you, Scar."

Sucking in a breath, I mumble, "But I don't think we're scared of the same things."

"Then communicate with me, baby. Tell me what you're afraid of."

Eyes closed, I quietly confess, "I'm scared the test will be negative… It's all been a fun fantasy to play, until…"

"Until you realize we may have actually made a baby together," Remi finishes, bringing my hand down to my stomach and covering it with his own. "And now?—"

"Now I want it, and I'm afraid that if I'm not, you're gonna tell me you don't want to try for one yet and—umpf."

Crushing his mouth to mine, he cuts off my words with a bruising kiss. The longer he kisses me, the more my body sags against his, soft, mewling sighs passing from my lips to his as my hands fist his t-shirt.

Slipping off the lip of the tub, I push Remington down to his butt as I climb into his lap. Between us, his cock grows hard as I shift and wiggle over top of him. The moment I find the best position, my writhing becomes more intentional as I rub and grind myself over him. Meeting my rocking hips with upward thrusts that match the timing of his tongue in my mouth, my kiss falters as I moan low and long.

Hands in my hair, Remi pulls just enough to further expose and stretch my neck. Kissing along my pulse and breathing heavily between each one, his voice is rough as he says, "Scar, if you want my babies, nothing would make me happier than to give them to you. I can start trying right here, right now, and I won't stop until you are."

Slowly and methodically, he peels the delicate strap of my silk tank down my arm until my breast pops free. Kissing the top of the swell and around the outer curve, he licks at my nipple, his tongue swirling around the hard, little peak, murmuring, "Your breasts are going to look so sweet growing and changing so they can sustain our baby." Closing his lips around me, he sucks until my sad little whimper is erased by a much more pleasurable one and my hands begin wandering down to the waistband of his sweats.

Between open mouthed kisses along his neck and jaw, I ask, "Should we go check?"

"No, baby girl. You should finish taking out my cock and move your panties to the side so I can fill your pussy."

"But if?—"

"Mmm," he hums, shaking his head no. "If you are, then I'm going to be over the moon and need to fuck you to celebrate, and I'll want to take my time doing that so I can trace every part of you that I can't wait to see grow and change for the life we made. And you, my wife, get very impatient when you haven't come fast and hard around my cock prior to me wanting to slow things down and make love to you without the destination of coming in sight.

"But if you're not, then I'll have already started on makin' sure you will be next month and will have taken the edge off of myself because I know I'll be fuckin' possessed the first time—and probably every time—I sink my cock into you knowin' we're no longer playin' and that your tight little cunt is unprotected."

"Oh God," I breathe, a renewed urgency finding its way into me as I yank his pants down before pushing my thong to the side. I hurriedly rub my slick pussy along his shaft before lifting up and sinking myself down with a hard thrust that has him swearing my name as I mewl, "Daddy."

It's hard, fast, dirty, and fucking perfect as I ride Remington's cock. Rising up, I clench my walls, making him groan into my shoulder. Then when only the tip of his head remains, I drop back down with a punishing bounce that ripples up to my breasts, capturing his eyes with their hypnotic sway.

Fitting his hand between us, his fingers searching out my clit, he begins rubbing, pressing, and tapping on the swollen bud. With each touch, I grow more and more wet, my walls contracting harder, longer, and tighter until I'm losing my rhythm and exchanging my repetitive bouncing for rocking back and forth, ensuring he stays deep inside me, my clit right against his hand.

When my nails start pulling at the back collar of his t-shirt and raking down my shoulders, he coaxes, "That's it, baby girl. Come for Daddy. I want to feel your pussy wring my cock and steal my cum."

" My cum," I savagely enunciate before biting the curve of his neck, my tongue lapping at the sore before I suck. Pulling off, I yank on the hair at the nape of his neck, keeping his eyes locked on mine, and repeat, "It's my cum."

Gripping my hips and preventing me from getting so much as a whisper of friction, he blows on my nipples, causing them to pucker.

"Not unless you say, ‘Please Daddy, I want your baby.'"

"Please Daddy," I beg, pouting through my rapid compliance. "I want your baby."

Kissing my temple, Remi purrs, "You're such a good girl for me," letting my hips go.

One… two… three…

That's how many times my husband thrusts up into me as I rub myself along his pelvis before my pussy is clamping down with the rush of my orgasm. Gripping my butt to the point of his fingers dimpling my muscle, he keeps me locked on him as the first rope of his cum lashes against my walls, panting into my neck as he ruts into me, chasing the rippling contractions of my orgasm and using them to stimulate his own and draw both out to the point of exhaustion.

Lifting us from the floor before we become too drunk on the endorphins, Remington stands and carries me to our bed, slowly pulling out of me before laying me down with my feet propped up on the headboard.

With pillows stacked under my hips, he murmurs, "Stay just like that for me, okay?"

"Mhmm…"

Pushing in the dribble of our cum that tries to weep out from my pussy, he kisses my knee and hums, "Perfect," before laying down beside me.

Covering the space just above my mound, where I hope our sweet baby is already burrowed safe inside, with his long fingers stretching to my hip, Remington's lips press against my shoulder as he whispers, "I love you, Scarlet."

"I love you too," I softly return, my fingers coming to lace over his where they stay joined together as we pass the morning looking up baby names and pictures of nurseries until my fingers start to grip his as I sit up, smiling. "I'm gonna need one of those tests here in a minute."