Chapter 4

Four

Presley

Icouldn’t sleep.

Haden’s announcement mid-foreplay sent my brain into overdrive. I thrive on this stuff—a co-written cross-genre piece by our best-selling authors. The possibilities are endless.

It’s just after midnight, and although sleep should be my priority since last night barely saw any, I am running on adrenaline ready with my list of ideas to fire off at Haden the moment we step in the office.

Quickly checking my calendar, I clear some time to book him in since it is almost impossible to get his attention these days. I shift two other meetings I had scheduled to the afternoon until I see another item pop up in my calendar.

Reminder: Birth Control due to expire

Great, this is the last thing I need. Ironic, since birth control is often used to prevent pregnancy which is caused by people having sex.

I rest my elbows on the desk, my shoulders curl as I bury my face into my hands. The last time my birth control needed renewal, and Haden found out, he demanded I don’t bother, and we try for another baby.

That was over one year ago when Masen turned three and finally left the terrible two’s stage behind. Haden doesn’t want Masen to be an only child, but I don’t see more kids in our future, at least not anytime soon. It is hard enough juggling work and only one child. How will I be able to juggle two? Not to mention the sleepless nights, teething, and oh, wait… the uncomfortable nine months of being pregnant.

I explained this, tirelessly, to a man who just doesn’t understand. It erupted into a huge fight between us, countless nights of Haden on the couch and me next to Masen in our bed. At work, things got heated, and Haden was in an awful mood all the time. Then Haden’s mother, Elizabeth, found out she had breast cancer which thankfully was caught in time. Between Haden flying back and forth, and his mother surviving what was a difficult time for the whole family, he apologized for being an asshole, and the whole subject was placed on the backburner.

But somehow, someway, I will need to sneak an appointment with the doctor to get a new prescription without him knowing. Another item to add onto my ever-growing list of things to do and worry about.

My eyes begin to weigh heavy, the tiredness slowly seeping in as my body follows suit. I turn the small lamp off and shut down the laptop before leaving the dark room and slowly walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

As I make my way to our room, I peek my head through the door and see Haden and Masen fast asleep. Haden is lying on the edge of the bed, no duvet or sheets covering him as Masen’s stolen it all. Masen, of course, is lying across the bed, horizontally, with no room for me to rest my weary self. Letting out a yawn, I quietly walk over and turn off the lamp on the nightstand until Haden stirs.

“Are you coming to bed now?” he mumbles, half asleep.

“I’ll go sleep on the couch. There’s no room for me,” I whisper, leaning in and kissing his lips. “Good night. I love you.”

“I love you, too…”

The lamp clicks, turning off the light, and with a spare blanket and pillow in hand, I make my way to the sofa and try my best to get comfortable.

Family life—who would have thought it would be this hard?

I often question how my good friend, Charlie Edwards, and her husband, Lex, manage to raise three girls. Much like Haden, Lex is barely home running his empire, and Charlie has her own law practice. I make a mental note to schedule lunch sometime with her this week. Maybe I need some girl time to simply unwind.

Soon, my eyelids become too heavy, and I fall into a deep sleep.

* * *

The smell of coffee lingers through the house, instantly catching my attention as I attempt to move my stiff neck from the crappy position I’ve found myself in. A cup of coffee is brought to the table beside me, and Haden is standing over me dressed nicely in his charcoal pants and a crisp white shirt.

“Thank you.” I yawn.

“How did you sleep?”

“I’d be lying if I said I was comfortable. We really need to invest in a better couch.”

“We had a nice couch before someone decided it was a trampoline.”

I sit up, rubbing my eyes to break the sleep. “Speaking of that someone. Where is he? He’s awfully quiet, and when he’s quiet, he’s usually up to something.”

With my mug in hand, I blow the steam away and take a sip before venturing off to Masen’s room. The door is open, and he’s lying on his bed quietly playing with his cars. He is running them up and down his pillow, void of the usual burst of energy he wakes up to in the mornings.

“Morning, sweetie. You’re awfully quiet for someone going to pre-school today.”

“Momma, I don’t feel well.”

On closer inspection, he looks rather pale with gray circles under his normally vibrant hazel eyes. I sit beside him and place my hand on his cheek—he is burning hot.

I yell for Haden to come, and then yell again for him to bring the thermometer. Haden races to the room, handing me the thermometer which I gently place in Masen’s ear.

“What’s wrong, buddy?”

“I don’t feel well, Daddy.”

I’ve seen this face before, it’s the face of a child who is just about to…

I push Haden out of the way as Masen falls forward, vomiting on the floor as he cries out loud.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” I soothe him while directing Haden to grab cleaning products from the laundry.

“I… I sorry, Momma,” Masen cries, again.

Picking him up in my arms, I take him to the bathroom, stripping off his vomit-stained clothes and running the shower so I can clean him off. His sickly demeanor and small cries continue to break my heart. I know he needs me today, and that means staying home and taking him to the doctor. I think, for a moment, of asking Gemma to help but the guilt begins to eat away at me.

The meetings and work have to wait—my son needs me.

Making my way back to the bedroom to grab a t-shirt, shorts, and fresh underwear, Haden has cleaned up the mess in Masen’s room and is in the kitchen packing his laptop.

“So, I guess you’re staying home with him?”

His tone, unapologetic, strikes a nerve with me. “Yes, well, you certainly won’t?”

“Don’t do this.” He shakes his head, refusing to make eye contact with me. “I don’t like seeing my son sick, but I have shareholder meetings that I’m expected to lead. I can’t play hooky and stay home, okay?”

“Play hooky? Your son is sick,” I vent, tired and irritated. “You know what…” I wave my hands around, “… not worth the argument. Just go to work.”

I leave the room without a kiss goodbye or an ‘I love you.’

That brief moment is a glimpse into what our life has become. Me, taking all the responsibility for Masen, and Haden continuing to do what he does best, be a jerk.

The morning is spent with Masen on the sofa, blanket laying on top and his favorite program on the television. He has managed to drink some water and eat some toast, but the victory was short-lived when he vomited it back up shortly after. Thankfully, I had placed a bucket beside him, and my fancy rug was spared the dry-cleaning expense.

Rosa came over, and the moment she saw Masen curled into a ball on the sofa, she demanded he drink some homemade remedy she concocted from boiled water and toast scrapings. It was rather questionable, but I was tired and willing to try anything. We have a doctor’s appointment scheduled at lunchtime, and I’m hoping he will be strong enough to hold the contents of his stomach in so we can attend.

Rosa hands me a coffee like she can read my mind.

“Thank you, Rosa. I didn’t get much sleep last night, but, of course, my husband was out like a light. This morning he expected me to stay home. Didn’t even offer. And the worst part is, he wants more kids. I can barely cope with one,” I utter, somewhat relieved when the truth comes out.

Rosa nods, and I quickly realize I am preaching to the wrong audience. Rosa is widowed, married to her husband for thirty-five years before he had a stroke.

They had five children, three of whom live abroad with their partners. There’s one single son who lives in New York, who Rosa claims is sordido, which means he is sleazy. I laughed at the time, half-expecting some overweight, bald guy, but when she showed me his picture, the guy is incredibly handsome. Very tall, slim with Latino features, and boy, does he look good in a suit. She often told me he wasn’t interested in settling down, comparing him to Hugh Hefner. Her youngest son, Lucio, lives here in California with her. He attends a local college and seems to be the only one who genuinely gives Rosa the time of day, though I’d never tell her that directly.

“Ay, Cariña, it’s difficult for a husband to understand the weight of motherhood,” she says in her thick accent while putting away the dishes. “My Jorge was a great father, he led his children down the right path, provided for them. But aye yai yai, he wouldn’t understand a single thing in the house. His mama, bless her, spoiled him.”

“Sounds like Haden…” I mumble.

“I always told my sons, never expect a woman to be your slave.”

I smile but feel terrible since she is putting away my dishes, and I am standing here, still in my pajamas, with traces of vomit on me and not lending her a hand. “Here, let me help you.”

She pushes my hand away, gently. “Cariña, please, this is my job. This is what makes me happy. You pay me, I work for you. Now, please, drink your café, shower, and leave this to me.”

Almost on the verge of tears, barely able to hold the emotions back, I nod my head. Rosa can sense my stress and suggests she finish up in the kitchen and offers to stay with Masen if I need to get work done.

I hop in the shower, washing every part of my body in an effort to disinfect whatever bug Masen is carrying. Dressing in my jeans and ivory blouse, I tie my hair into a high bun, grabbing my laptop and sitting at the dining table with a view of Masen. He has fallen asleep so Rosa continues cleaning, quietly, so as to not to wake him. I thought I should answer a few emails so I won’t fall too far behind.

Ten minutes into a lengthy email which cc’d the publication team and Haden, I get a text from him.

Haden:What the hell is that response?

Me:Haden, really, you’re asking a lot from everyone in a short time. I’m happy to work on a schedule but we need to be realistic, we’re short-staffed and don’t want to push people to the edge.

Haden:I don’t give a fuck. They are lucky to have a job.

This is the point where I know he’s had a bad meeting, taking it out on everyone else. I contemplate not responding, but that man needs a reality check, and if anyone is allowed to give it, I have full reign as his wife.

Me:Stop being an asshole. And by the way, your son is doing better. Just in case you were wondering. I’ll talk to you tonight.

I close my laptop, and with Masen doing a bit better, we say goodbye to Rosa and make our way to the doctor’s office.

According to Dr. Somersby, Masen has a twenty-four-hour bug most likely picked up from pre-school. There is no medication she can administer aside from the advice to stay hydrated and away from dairy. With Masen looking slightly better, I asked Dr. Somersby if we could have a quick discussion about my birth control.

Happily obliging, the receptionist offers to mind Masen while Dr. Somersby shuts the door.

“How can I help?”

“My birth control is due to expire, and, well, I’d like to continue.”

She grabs her prescription pad with a non-judgmental smile. “The last time I saw you, you mentioned your husband wasn’t on the same page.”

I nod, letting out a sigh. “He shouldn’t really get a say since he’s not the one having to carry a baby, then have to go on maternity leave.”

“If I had a penny for every time I’ve heard that. I’ll just check your blood pressure.”

She brings out the machine and gives me the green light once the results come back normal. “How did you find this last brand of the pill?”

“Fine,” I admit. “I’ve been watching what I eat because I gained a few pounds at the beginning.”

“And sex drive? That brand is known to produce more estrogen which can lower your testosterone. Therefore, your sex drive may take a hit. Everyone is different, of course.”

“I think the same. Look, we have a kid who keeps coming to our bed, and I’m just tired all the time.”

“Right! Let’s change brands which may help balance the hormones to assist with fatigue. Providing you take it every day at the same time, it’s ninety-nine percent effective.”

I begin to panic. “What about the other one percent?”

“Actually, ninety-nine-point-seven percent effective.”

“Okay, the zero-point-three percent?”

“Well, it’s always a possibility.”

“So, what you’re saying is that I should use like a condom as well because there’s still the possibility of falling pregnant?”

She continues writing on the prescription, then rips it off the pad, handing it to me.

“Every couple is different. If you’re that certain you don’t want any children at this point, it doesn’t hurt to use extra protection.”

I take in all the information while grabbing my things, I say goodbye, thanking her for seeing us, and find Masen to head to the drug store. It’s only a block away and with my basket in hand, I place my prescription in and pick up a few things, throwing random products in the basket. I somehow need to walk past the condoms and grab a packet without Masen seeing.

We continue walking, and I spot them, ahead, make some reference to the candy near the counter which Masen can have once he’s better and without looking, grab a pack of condoms and dump them in the basket, hiding it underneath all the other items.

Why the hell is that so embarrassing? It felt like I was back in high school.

I pay for the items, and haul ass home where Masen manages to get settled on the couch with his iPad.

Putting all the items away, I sneak to our bedroom and pull the box out of the bag. Ribbed: For Her Pleasure. I let out a slight chuckle, then shove them in the back of my dresser drawer. Haden will have an absolute fit, but if he wants sex, he’s gonna have to suck it up.

We both have a lot on our plates.

We both want to have another child, and I still have a couple of years. It isn’t the end of the world just yet.

Haden needs to be patient.

The house becomes dark as the night falls. With Masen able to eat a small dinner, the exhaustion hits him, and he crashes in his bed with his dinosaur night light on.

It’s after eight, and Haden hasn’t come home. I decide to call it an early night, just in case Masen wakes up, plus my body is beyond exhausted. After a quick shower, I get settled into bed, and within moments, my eyelids begin to drift off.

It’s dark, pitch black, and the touch of a hand is caressing my breast, slowly and gently. I moan softly, and in my exhausted state, I don’t realize my shorts are off and Haden is rubbing against me until he slides in causing me to gasp. I moan, softly, bearing down on my teeth to remain as quiet as possible praying we’re not interrupted.

Haden moves upward, his mouth presses hard against mine. His tongue rolls soft, but the intensity is there. There is no denying I need him, missing Haden so much and desperate to make love to him. I want him to see how much I love him, despite our battles, and how no one else in the world makes me feel the way he does.

He pulls away, panting, as he hovers above me.

“I’m sorry about today.”

“No, you’re not,” I tell him. “You’re just apologizing because you want to come.”

“You know me well…”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Always, baby,” he teases, “Now are you ready? You’ve been a little prick tease lately, and I’m done holding back.”

I squeal beneath him, grabbing his face in my hands and bringing him in for a deep kiss.

“I’m ready, baby.”