The Impact

Chapter 40

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Ian asks, coming in and closing the bedroom door behind himself.

"I'm much better," I lie, since my stomach is still nauseated but I really wasn't that bad to begin with.

"Good, I got your school assignments those are boring---and I looked at the car I think it'll be fine," he says, putting down a backpack.

"Thanks, sorry I couldn't come---I will this weekend," I promise. I go to the close the blinds because he likes it like that. Dark. He does now he never did before. Before he was almost afraid of the dark. He's just different now.

"Don't worry, you're fine," he says, walking up behind me and putting his arms around me.

"It's cloudy, looks like there's a storm coming," I say, before closing the blackout curtains.

"Good I like rain," he says.

"Yeah you like water," I whisper. He doesn't know how strange he is. He kisses me. I shiver.

"Mmmhmm, you want to take a shower?" he asks, kissing my ear, "You feel sweaty."

"I thought you liked me sweaty," I say, turning around in his arms to kiss his cold lips.

"You are feeling better," he says, going for my pants.

"Shhh, lock the door," I say, taking my shirt off, and turning on my Bluetooth speaker. The kids are running around they didn't need to hear muffled but unmistakable noises. It is the middle of the afternoon. I feel hot and weird and crazy. But I want him anyway. More than that I want him smiling at me, holding me, and happy loving me.

"All right," he laughs a little, closing it and turning the lock, "I like this song, what is it?"

" 'The Ghost in You'," I say, shivering a little, with my shirt and pants off and the air blasting it's cold.

"You're shaking, warm water will help," he says, putting his strong arms around me and moving us to the bathroom as he kisses me. I submit to his embrace. I feel weak in his arms, how can he feel so strong to me? Is it real or is it because I love him? I don't know.

"You're dressed silly," I say, as he turns the hot water on and stands under the stream, kissing me.

"I don't care about anything but you," he says.

"You don't have to say those things," I whisper, pressing my face against his now wet shirt.

"It's not just things, I mean it Park," he says, taking off my bra for me so he can caress my breasts. It hurts a little but I let him finger them, his hands big and weird on my skin.

"I hope so," I say, quietly.

"You don't have to hope, it is," he says.

"Hope is all a girl can have," I tell him, "Hope is what we live by we can't believe or control anything."

"You sure you're okay?" he asks.

I almost tell him that I'm pregnant.

"I'm fine." But then I don't. Because as he holds me, shaking, under the hot water, I want to pretend everything is okay.

"I don't like you sad," he says, ceasing his caress of me to study my face.

"I thought you loved me all the time," I say.

"I love you all the time that's why I don't want you to worry," he says, "I can make anything all right."

"Okay then, everything's all right," I say.

"You're full of secrets."

"Oh yes," I tell him, kissing him now so he'll stop talking and just make love to me like he should. And then we'll lie in bed quietly and go down and eat left overs later. And I won't tell him. And everything will be all right.