Page 56 of Make Me Whole

He laughed and stroked his length once more before kneeling behind me to give me something to enjoy as well.

* * *

Three orgasms later,we finally turned the couch into a bed for Max. Too tired to bother putting my dress back on just to walk upstairs, I covered myself with his white shirt and folded my dress to carry it to my room.

Max’s hands curled around my waist, holding me firmly against him. “Don’t go. We still have half a fantasy to live. We’ll set an alarm to wake you before the kids wake up.”

I closed my eyes and dropped my head to his chest. We had enjoyed each other’s bodies like a couple in love, but in a real family, Mom and Dad slept together and woke up in each other’s arms without a care in the word. That part of the fantasy was still unfulfilled.

Staying would have been so easy. I wanted to and was too tired to climb up the stairs, but it wasn't Halloween anymore. I was no longer dressed like Morticia, Max’s Gomez mustache was gone, and our children were no longer the deranged siblings. If I said yes to spending the night, it would be as Skylar, who wanted more than just the fantasy.

The question was, what did Max want?

Despite the sex and emotional intimacy we had shared for over a month, Max still had his wedding ring on and gave no indication that he was ready to tell my dad about us. The logical conclusion was that he was still on Team No-Strings, Life-Giving Sex. If I stayed knowing that we wanted different things, it would be at my own peril, and my heart had too many scars already to suffer one more.

As gently as I could, I placed a hand on his cheek and leaned to give him a soft kiss. He smiled against my mouth. When I pulled back, he held my hand and took a step backward toward the sofa-bed, but I didn’t move with him.

His brows tugged as I released his fingers. “You’re not staying?”

I begged my tear ducts to stay dry and shook my head. “Halloween is over, Max. And though I can handle going back to our deal after a few hours of fantasy, I’m not sure that would be the case after a whole night of it. I’d want more. I’d want it all, to be honest.”

He stared at me with deep emotion in his eyes. His chest rose and fell, and he whispered my name. What he didn’t do was tell me to forget our deal and live reality with him.

Having the answer I needed, I smiled, even though I didn’t feel like it, and left.

* * *

The next fewweeks were weird and aggravating, to say the least.

The day after my dad’s private Halloween party with my neighbor, he all but moved to the reno house. He said that his constant visits were to discuss my lawyer situation and help Max finish the house faster, but no one believed him. He was there for Molly, plain and simple.

Since Dad came around at the most random times and stayed for hours, my extracurricular activities with Max stopped. Which was probably a good thing since I had no clue how to handle casual sex and my growing feelings.

What I didn’t like, however, was that our lack of alone time didn’t only mean no sex. It also meant no conversations, no laughs, no connection. As good as the sex was, I missed that last thing the most.

If emotional confusion and lack of privacy weren’t enough, my nausea and tiredness got significantly worse over the following days. I was able to set an appointment with my doctor for a week after Halloween, but the exams she requested took forever to get ready.

By the end of the second week of November—two weeks after my last alone conversation with Max—I was obsessing over whether I should call him to talk when my phone rang. At first, I got a chill in my stomach at the thought that it was him, but then I looked at the screen and saw the name of my doctor’s practice on the display.

I pressed the green button and said, “Hello.”

“Ms. Holmes, hi. This is Tiffany from Women’s Wellness. Is this a good time to talk?”

“Hi, Tiffany. Yes. Is it about my bloodwork?”

“Sure is,” the chipper woman confirmed. “Dr. Padleky asked me to call you and let you know that everything came out great. You’re in perfect health, which is exactly how she likes her future mamas to start pregnancy.”

The hell . . .

My mouth went dry and my heart pretty much stopped beating. “Are you sure you’re calling the right patient?”

Tiffany snickered. “Are you Skylar Holmes?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m very sure, ma’am. You’re approximately five weeks pregnant, though the doctor will have to examine you and do an ultrasound to determine the correct gestational age. Would you like to schedule your first prenatal appointment?”

The car in front of me moved, and it was my turn to ask for the kids, thank God. “I’m sorry, Tiffany. I’m about to pick up my daughter from school, so I’ll have to let you go. I’ll call the office later to make the appointment.”

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