Arsen: a broken love story - Asher Mia. Страница 31

“Hey, I have an idea.” Lifting my hand, he plants a kiss on it.

“Yes?”

“So that the day isn’t completely wasted because of the rain, maybe you could ride something else…” He grins at me as his maple brown eyes let me know exactly what he means.

“Um...yes. Maybe.”

“Christ, why the fuck are we still here and not in bed already?”

“Not sure?” I laugh. I can’t really help myself around him. He makes me so damn happy.

“I fucking love you, you know that? You stole my heart.”

“Yes? Well, do you want it back?”

“Fuck no!”

“Let’s get out of here then.”

“How the hell did I get so lucky?” he asks huskily.

“Well, if you keep talking you won’t be getting lucky,” I tease him.

Immediately, Ben lifts me up, throwing me over his shoulder as he starts to run towards the mansion. Once in the room, I proceed to show Ben that I may not know how to ride a bike, but I do know how to ride…

Him.

“Don’t do that, Dimples. It’s turning me on.”

Dropping the pencil I was chewing not a minute ago, I look up from my seat behind the desk. Ah, Arsen. The tips of his blond hair still look damp from his shower. He’s wearing a crisp white shirt with no tie and an unbuttoned black suit jacket. As I look at Arsen and the way his clothes fit so effortlessly, I think he should be the poster boy for careless elegance. When I let my eyes roam over his body, I cannot picture my perfect Ben showing up to work dressed like this; he’s always clothed impeccably. However, Arsen makes it work.

He really does.

To hide my smile, I bend under the table to retrieve my pencil and hear him mutter something that I can’t quite catch. It makes me smile bigger. Some people would call what we’re doing flirting, but Arsen flirts with everyone and his off color jokes are really one of the highlights of my day.

Once I sit back in my seat, his eyes soften when they land on my face.

“How are you feeling, Dimples? Baby kicking yet?” Arsen asks as he half sits on the corner of my desk that’s closest to him, blue sincerity sparkling through his eyes.

With my first trimester almost over, my barely there bump has begun to show a little. Really, if you weren’t paying close attention you wouldn’t be able to see it, but I can, and what’s even better is that I can feel it.

I love it.

I touch my belly for a moment and feel my smile grow wider as I remember Ben’s words this morning while we were in bed.

Kiss, kiss, kiss.

As I lie on my back pretending to be asleep, I feel Ben spreading soft kisses on my belly. I smile and open my eyes to observe my husband as he admires the small bump growing in me. Tingly and warm fuzzy feelings crowd my heart. There’s so much love in those eyes of his. So much hope.

I watch him as he gently lowers his hand to touch it. “Hello there, little princess. This is your daddy wishing his beautiful girls a good morning.” His voice is husky from sleep and deep emotion.

“How do you know it’s a girl? What if he’s a boy? Will you be disappointed?” I move my free hand to cover his.

“Hmm. Good question. I don’t know why I think she’s a girl. I just do. Maybe I want to be surrounded by beautiful girls for the rest of my life.” He grins and moves to lie down next to me, kissing my shoulder as he pulls me within his embrace. “But I would never be disappointed if the baby is a boy because it’s part of you, part of me. It’s our baby. Your gift to me.”

“I’m feeling great, thank you for asking, and it’s still too early to feel the baby kick. According to Dr. Pajaree, I won’t feel the baby move until I’m close to eighteen weeks.” I take a deep breath as I try to bury the panic and fear I feel every time I think about how close we are to the end of the first trimester. “I’m only ten weeks, so I still have a ways to go.” The light mood is gone, replaced by a gloomy silence. I don’t want to smile and tease Arsen anymore. I actually don’t want to talk to anyone.

I hate this fear.

This uncertainty.

I look away and stare at the computer screen. “Uh, Arsen, I think you should go back to your cubicle. The day just started, and we have a lot of work to do. Amy needs to go over some paperwork with me before she leaves on her trip next week. Would you mind getting back to work?” I say, rudely dismissing him.

I don’t bother to look in his direction, so I assume that he has already left when he startles me by sitting on his hunches next to my seat. Spinning my chair to face him, he puts his hands on the armrests, blocking my exit.

“Hey, hey. Catherine. Here, look at me. Talk to me.”

I shake my head and stare down at my lap. “Arsen, please. Leave. I don’t want to talk to you, okay?”

“No, it’s not fucking okay. Something is obviously bothering you. I want to know what it is so I can help. Want me to call Amy?” He pauses for a moment while he considers his next word carefully. “Ben?”

“No. It’s nothing, and I am fine. Please, just get your work done.”

He seems to accept my answer, and I’m about to breathe a sigh of relief thinking that he’s given up.

“No. I know you. I won’t leave this place until you tell me what’s the matter.”

Looking up, I notice the stubborn expression in his face. It reminds me of a determined young boy trying to build his first tower of Legos. I lower my gaze to my lap once more to avoid staring at him.

“Just back off, okay?” My voice is desperate now. I’m trying to hold back the angry tears I feel growing at the back of my throat. I don’t know if it’s the hormones, or if I’ve just lost my mind. At times I can be so happy, then something triggers a memory of my past miscarriages to resurface, and I’m enveloped in darkness once more. Anger is always there, waiting to bring me down with heavy chains of fear.

“Look at me, Catherine. Please look at me—”

“Good morning! Oh, Arsen…I didn’t see you there. Cathy?” Arsen and I turn to face Amy at the same time. She’s standing there, holding two cups of Starbucks coffee in her hands. The odd expression in her face lets me know that whatever was going on between Arsen and me must look worse than it actually is. I disregard Arsen, push his hands off the armrests, and stand.

After I’ve made my way around the desk, I grab the coffee that Amy brought for me and guide her towards her office. She shoots me a look loaded with questions, but I ignore them. I don’t want to talk about it.

It’s not what she thinks.

As we are about to cross the threshold of her office, I hear a frustrated groan escape Arsen. I turn around and watch him stand up, shaking the dust off his clothes and straightening his pants. When our eyes meet, I don’t know if I see compassion in his eyes or sympathy, but it makes me feel like shit for treating him so badly. Quickly, I tell Amy to go ahead because I forgot to get something from my desk. Halfway there, Arsen makes his way to stand in front of me.

“I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that,” I say.

“This isn’t over, Dimples. I’m taking you out for lunch, and you’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on with you. One moment you’re happy, smiling and looking so damn pretty. The next, we talk about your baby and you’re gone, replaced by a bitch, and I don’t like it. You’re going to tell me what is the matter. I thought that was our deal, you talk, I listen, no bullshit. And I won’t take no for an answer, so don’t even think about it.”

His eyes…

The way they are looking at me now makes me want to tell him all my fears. They make me believe that he can be a friend who will listen to me and not tell me that everything will be fine. That he’ll understand what it’s like to have such consuming fear that it will destroy you; what I can’t share with Ben. I feel my heartbeat speed up as I nod.