Patrick
Sometimes I was right. Like dinner, I was right about it not being this big terrible thing that they would have rather cut a limb off than go to. Michelin and her husband Lewis didn’t bat an eye at our arrangement. I think that Lewis’s career as a psychiatrist and Michelin’s as a social worker led them to understanding different types of relationships.
But I probably should have asked Jon and Dia before I just took Michelin up on her offer. It added undue stress onto Lydia and made Jon feel as though he needed to be there not as a friend to the Montgomery’s and our boyfriend, but as moral support for her.
Lydia had calmed down in Allie’s presence though; the girls had been inseparable all evening and seeing the way Allie brought Lydia out of her shell made me glad to be there. Maritza had even seemed happy to be there, even though he had been attached at the hip to Allie and had mostly avoided Jon.
But while dinner had been great, our hosts were fantastic, and we hadn’t really done any simple visits to friend’s houses, we were still in a rush to get home after dessert. I sat across from Lydia, silently playing footies while she told us about her book and the chapters that she was doing a major overhaul for. I was scanning my emails, reading over the ones from Edward inviting us for a dinner. Just Lydia and myself. Hm.
Jon was fidgeting endlessly, turning his signet ring around and around and not paying attention to anyone else. Was I that nervous when I proposed? I couldn’t remember the buildup, just the feeling of her in my arms afterward and the smile she had for days afterward. And, of course, the amazing sex.
Glancing across at Lydia, I let my foot skirt up her calf and watched as she jumped in surprise. She giggled and shot me a quick side eye as she crossed her legs, pulling away from my feet. I kept it up on the drive, tickling her leg and watching her squirm the entire time.
When we got home the lobby was empty and the elevator seemed to shoot up to the apartment. Jon was quick to shuck his jacket off and toss it on the stairs, warning Lydia that she had to wait five minutes before going to the balcony. She looked to me in confusion when he took off without another word, just a warning glance at me to make sure it was a true five minutes.
“I’m always left out of the loop when you guys are plotting,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “And you’re never subtle about it. Not even a little bit.”
“Oh yeah?” I crossed my arms and stepped closer to her. “What are we planning then, smarty pants?”
“Something to test my blood pressure no doubt.”
“You never have any faith in us,” I scolded. “Do you think we’re trying to stress you out?”
She crossed her arms, mimicking my pose and offered a one-sided shrug. I reached for her waist, pulling her closer to me and trying to get her to crack a smile with my fingers dancing up and down her spine. Dia pressed her hands to my chest but didn’t fight my hold, she leaned into me, gripping my shirt tightly and staring up into my eyes.
I was about to watch her get a ring from another man. The same man that had brought us together and the father of her baby. And for one of the few times in our relationship, I felt completely secure in the knowledge that we loved each other and tonight wouldn’t change that.
I brought my hand up to her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin as my mouth met hers. Her mouth opened against mine and she seemed to sigh into the kiss as I pulled her closer. I didn’t want to stop, but we couldn’t keep him waiting. Reluctantly, we broke apart and I slipped my hand into hers as I guided us through the house.
“Where are we going?” Dia asked while her hands clutched at my bicep.
“On a walk.”
“Inside?”
“Would you rather be outside where you can faint again?”
“I can faint inside too, and honestly, that’s where I’d prefer to do it.”
I’d prefer you don’t faint at all. “Well, I would carry you to prevent it all together but unfortunately I can’t be the one to sweep you off your feet tonight,” I teased. “That’s someone else’s job.”
“Aw,” she pouted. “I like when my Master does that.”
She laughed while I just rolled my eyes at her and led us through the dimmed living room. There were flowers everywhere, every flat surface had a vase or a few loose ones, but the hallway was where it went off the rocker. Flower chains and garland decorated the walls while candles decorated the credenza and side table, the overhead lights were off.
Lydia’s mouth was open and she gawked at the surroundings in a way that made me mildly jealous. Jon had plenty of time to plan this out, where mine had been spur of the moment after Chinese food. Not exactly as romantic as this. I couldn’t be mad at that though, because that was really the heart of our relationship – free falling and doing what we wanted to in the moment versus careful planning and thought.
We approached the French doors to the patio and I paused to kiss her cheek, she looked a little confused but that didn’t stop me from leading her into the room where Jon was waiting for us.
The breakfast nook was a covered patio that opened onto the balcony. For tonight, Jon had closed the black curtains against the breeze, turned up the heat and the table and chairs moved out of the room. He now stood in the centre with his hands behind his back, surrounded by pillows and blankets on top of the rugs lining the floor, the only light came from the hanging fixture above him and even that was subdued.
I gave Dia’s hand a kiss and urged her toward him while I stayed put in the doorway, watching. Her hands went to her face and I could already see the tears glistening on her cheeks.
She approached him slowly, he looked more excited with every step to the point where he closed the distance between them with one big step and a glowing smile. I caught his hand quickly dip into his back pocket before he took both of hers, pulling them away from her face and lacing their fingers together.
“I know I said I was just going to show up and be happy for you two, but I really am looking forward to the wedding,” he told her quietly. “And the ceremony, dove. I didn’t want this to go by without something for you.”
He didn’t get down on one knee, and I appreciated that I was the only one with that experience, it made both of our moments all the more unique.
Instead, he let go of her hand, reached into his back pocket and pulled out a slim black box. I opened the camera on my phone and snapped several photos as he opened the lid and presented the ring to her. He would be excited about this later, to have more photos to commemorate the moment.
The one I had given Lydia was circular and designed to look like a lotus with the clusters of diamonds. Jon’s ring was a single light-pink diamond encrusted band that dipped into a small chevron or V shape. He gingerly slipped my ring off her finger, moved his ring into place and then mine slid back over top. They fit perfectly together and Lydia could wear them both without any hassle.
My throat felt tight and she was sobbing now, completely lost to the world as she cried and clutched at Jon desperately. I snapped one last picture, giving them their moment to hold each other alone before I caved and closed the distance between us and sandwiched her in.
Jon rested his hand on my back and I did the same, between us, Lydia continued to sniffle and thank him profusely while she dried her eyes on his shirt.
I couldn’t say the evening was the same as our engagement, because we didn’t have nearly as much sex tonight and what we did was pretty tame. I missed getting to be rougher with her, and it was frustrating that she wanted more pain, more implements to be used and I couldn’t bring myself to do so with her so visibly pregnant anymore. But we still had fun, and Lydia was still thoroughly used and abused for our entertainment. Jon let me fuck him again, she watched us for several minutes before crawling over to play with his cock while we kissed.
I didn’t have a separate life anymore. I shared literally everything. My kitten had always wanted to be owned and cared for and not to feel alone, but I’d never expected myself to so easily and willingly give up my apartment, my freedom, my career, all to share my life with two people. Certainly not for a woman carrying another man’s child. But I was past that point now, this was just my life and it no longer felt so strange.
My apartment would go up for sale when I got my valuables out of it, I was going to be looking at houses with Jon in the coming weeks, Lydia’s stuff would stay in storage for the time being, and the three of us were living in Jon’s apartment. It felt like it had happened overnight, but it felt right.
I was lost in thought as I sat there on the floor next to Jon, pants on, undone, and wearing nothing else. Dia was curled up on my other side wearing my shirt and snuggled up under three blankets. She would wake up at some point sweating and blaming it on one of us. I smiled to myself and brushed the messy blonde hair out of her eyes before pushing myself up to get changed. I couldn’t sleep in slacks and I really didn’t care much for sleeping totally naked.
Stumbling down the hall, I blew the candles out on my way and tripped over the run in the dark living room. I swore and grabbed my foot with a hiss. Fuck me. Jon’s apartment was haunted and the ghosts were not my friends, I regretted everything I had ever thought about it being a decent place.
“Pat, is that you?” Lydia called from back down the hall.
“No, go back to bed, sweetheart.”
Her hand touched my back and I jolted in surprise, letting go of my foot and whipping around to face her. Her hair was wild, her makeup smudged and she looked incredibly tired and extremely adorable.
“I didn’t ask if you were okay, I asked if that was you,” she told me with mild irritation. “What did you do?”
I gestured to the askew carpet. “I was sabotaged.”
She groaned and threw her arms around my neck. “There’s no ghost, I keep telling you that you’re just crazy. Now come back to bed, I miss you.”
“Apparently the ghost missed me too,” I muttered. “I was just getting changed then I’ll be back.”
“Are you sure?”
“Where else am I going?”
“The Bahamas?”
“That’s too obvious.”
“I don’t know, but you could go anywhere.”
“We could go anywhere,” I corrected. “I would take us anywhere you wanted to go, kitten.”
A smile broke out across her face and I watched as one of two dimples became visible. “Really?”
“Anywhere,” I promised.
There was no reason to it except that I had probably had more to drink than I should have but I guided her hand to my shoulder and the other held in mine, leading her in a short waltz around the living room. There was no music, the lights were out, but it was nice to be together like this. I couldn’t take her anywhere right this second, but I could show her around the living room.
Dia followed my steps shakily, continuously glancing down at her feet and stumbling. I kept urging her to look up at me instead, to just follow my body while I led her around.
“Do they teach you to do this at those rich kid prep schools?” she asked, a teasing glint in her eye.
I grinned and spun us around the center of the room. “Well, yes, but those are also the same schools our kids will be going to.”
She shrugged and I pulled her closer. “I think there’s a big gap between what I grew up doing and what you grew up doing,” she remarked quietly. “Like, I get this weird sense that you never had to get a fake ID, your butler probably just bought your booze.”
I laughed – she wasn’t wrong. “I didn’t have to ask the butler; I just took from the cabinet when mum and Nora were out of the country.”
“They left the country without you?”
“I was in a boarding school, taking me with them would be too difficult, but I would have my friends bring me home on the weekends and we would sneak liquor back to our dorms. We can’t have a locking liquor cabinet; I don’t want to deprive our kids of that experience.”
She brushed it off with a wave of her hand. “Okay, I can one up you – my mom used to buy my booze for me and helped take the picture for my fake ID.”
“That sounds like terrible parenting.”
“But it made for good memories,” Dia countered. “Danielle wasn’t a good mom, but she could be a good friend when she wanted to be.”
“But did she teach you how to waltz?”
“No, she did teach me how to steal bras though. I think that’s a bit more useful.” She paused and cocked her head to the side, brow furrowed. “Did your moms teach you to dance?”
I spun her around again and pulled her right back to my chest, forgetting the formalities of the dance for a moment and attempting to sweep her off her feet. She stared up at me with her wide gray eyes and parted lips. My hand came up and I brushed her hair away from her forehead.
It was nice to talk like this, to talk about the differences in our upbringing so candidly.
“I was part of the Swan Society as a teenager, I took part in the beautillions; they taught me to dance for when I was assigned to the debutantes as their escorts. It was mum’s idea, Nora hated it.”
“Wait, is that like a male debutant? A beautillion?”
“A beautillion is for male debutant’s, a debutante with an e is a woman and they attend cotillions or debutante balls.”
“So, if we have a son, would you want him to be a debutant?”
I hadn’t really questioned it before. Maybe? Mum always wanted another kid, a little girl to be a debutant but I she made do with me, and I hadn’t exactly complained about it. Hello, I was surrounded by beautiful girls all day everyday, then I went back to school and experimented. I would love to give those same opportunities to our son – a safe place to express himself and learn classic gentlemanly behaviour.
“I would, I don’t know how Jon feels, but personally I would like that for him,” I answered finally.
She rolled her eyes. “Jon would be fine with it, he doesn’t have issues with internalized misogyny the way you do.”
“I spent my youth surrounded by women, I was raised by two women and you think I have issues with them?”
“Pat, I love you, but don’t think I haven’t noticed that you struggle to voice your emotions to me and would rather do that with Jon. Plus, not to make this awkward, but you and I have been in a weird place since I told you I was pregnant.”
We came to a stop as I processed her words. Did she think I was holding back? “I talk to you about my emotions,” I said quietly. “It’s difficult because I don’t want to upset you. And I love the baby, I hope you know that.”
Lydia reached up and touched my cheek, her thumb stroked across my lower lip so gently that it was almost like a feather dusting over my skin.
I had emotions, I was a human after all, but I couldn’t say that it wasn’t hard to express them to her. Jon just did that better.
“I don’t like thinking that you’re tiptoeing around my emotions,” she protested. “Pat, I don’t want this to feel like work for you, I just want us to fit together.”
Like you and Jon.
It hurt. A lot. Watching them fit together like perfect puzzle pieces while we had to work at everything. It was worse that I worked with Jon so well too. He’d become the centre of our relationship when previously Dia had been that. I didn’t really know how to deal with that yet. But we had come so far, and I thought that Lydia and I were fitting together more easily everyday.
I pressed our foreheads together and pulled her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against mine and the way we fit so easily like this. Physically. “I think we will, we just need more time.”
“How much more time, Patrick? We’re getting married in eight weeks.”
The fear in her voice made me sad; I wanted our wedding to be a happy time, I wanted her to be overjoyed. “You could try and say that with a little enthusiasm,” I teased. “I’m excited about the wedding, I want you to be as well.”
“I am.”
“Are you sure?”
She shrugged and tightened her hold on my neck. “Just promise me that if you really wanted to leave that you would,” she pleaded.
“Kitten, please, I’m not five.”
“Pat…”
She pulled back and ran a hand through her hair, both rings glittered beautifully and I couldn’t help but smile at them. It had been my idea for Jon to give her a ring, I hadn’t told her that but I also didn’t need to. I didn’t need to win brownie points for something they shared.
I wanted to end things in the Bahamas, I wanted to end the pain that I felt being with her but I didn’t. Instead, I had sucked it up, gone out to find her by the ocean, and the two of us made love. The death of my father had brought us together, her pregnancy had closed the rest of the gap, I’d fallen back in love with her and watched her regain her faith in me as we went.
I loved everything that Lydia gave me; this sense of purpose, a completeness, I liked feeling that she depended on me. I loved feeling at home when she was there and maybe I couldn’t show that with words but I wanted to show that with my actions.
Taking her face in my hands, I held her gaze. “I love you, more than anything in this world and I’m not going anywhere.”
Her eyes started to water and suddenly she was hugging me hard, her head tucked under my chin as she cried. “I love you too,” she sobbed out. “I’m sorry about this—about everything.”
I kissed her hair and inhaled the scent of her perfume. “Don’t be,” I soothed. “You helped ruin my entire life and I don’t think I could be happier about it.”
Lydia started laughing through her tears against my chest and shook her head fiercely. “You always say the worst possible thing.”
Grinning, I kissed the top of her head again and continued rubbing her back. She would be pleased to know that I was getting some help with my vows, I might be shit with words in private, but I wouldn’t show that at our wedding. “Is it still the worst if it makes you laugh?”
“Yes. In fact, I think it’s even worse.”
“Is it the worst if I tell you that seeing your beautiful face every morning makes my days easier?”
“Oh, I like that. I like seeing your ugly mug too.”
I threw my head back and laughed in surprise at her words. “With kind words like that it’s no wonder people think I’m with you just because you’re attractive.” I slapped her ass to punctuate my words, drawing a loud squeal from her. “Pregnancy looks good on you.”
She pulled back and fluffed her hair self-consciously before gesturing at herself. “Okay, but like, I’m putting in a lot of effort to look hot while I’m pregnant so you need to appreciate it because I don’t know if I can do this again next time.”
“I appreciate my hot, pregnant fiancée,” I promised with a smirk. “Now get moving, if he wakes up and sees that we’ve disappeared, he’ll be pissed.”
She sighed took another step back, her hands up in surrender. “Alright, I’m going, but I expect you back in the next ten minutes.”
“Five, and I’ll bring you back one of those juice boxes.”
She clapped her hands together excitedly and blew me a kiss from the doorway before heading back to Jon. My heart didn’t feel like it could swell any more than it already had and inside, I knew this was exactly where we were always meant to be.