Remy:
Waking with my head snuggled against his back made a tiny squeal escape my lips, his groggy expression meeting mine. Smiling lovingly in my direction, he tucked a piece of my wild hair behind my ear. Sliding his other hand to my small bump, pride swelled in his eyes. Kissing my forehead, Lucas knocked on the door frame. Shoot, we weren't alone anymore.
"I kind of have to go school." He chuckled nervously, his blush could be seen from a mile away. "Can Remy bring me in today? Surely you have a second car?" Swinging my feet over the edge of the bed, I dusted off the dirt on my dress. Fixing my hair, Domy tossed me a set of keys. Gathering my stuff, I had a meeting with his old man at the coffee shop that iced me out. Hoping that would go okay, my mind kept reminding me that Domy said that he wanted me to stay that day.
"Keep yourselves safe. No fights at school." Domy ordered sharply with a sincere expression, winking in my direction. "That means you too, Remy." Shaking my head, I hope that I didn't smell too bad. Wandering into the garage, a red Beetle from the seventies waited for me. Both of our faces lit up, my eyes taking in the vintage band t-shirt and ripped jeans. Sliding on my boots, we were ready to go. Throwing our stuff in the back simultaneously, embarrassment colored our cheeks. Clearing his throat, something was waiting at the tip of his tongue.
"I texted some of my friends last night and they were wondering if you wanted to speak to my creative writing class. The teacher is all in for it. Can you spare a few minutes? That is my first period class." He asked politely, fixing his wild mop of a haircut. "We are all obsessed with your books, even the teacher." Sighing deeply, I knew I couldn't say no. Turning towards him, he seemed excited to have me speak to the class. Peeling onto the road, we pulled into a parking spot. An eager man with mousy brown hair ran up to me, his chocolate brown eyes twinkling with admiration. Taking in his navy sweater vest, and brown khakis, his wrinkled shirt spoke of unkempt writing at night. Fixing his silver framed glasses, he was a few inches shorter than me. Offering me his hand, sweat dripped off of it. Shaking it gingerly, he argued with the short secretary for ten minutes. Marching briskly away from her, the words couldn't come to his mouth. Was it that intimidating to speak to me?
"I am Mr. Hartsmit, the person who requested you come into class." He stammered with a little too much admiration, my hand cupping his shoulder. "I am so honored to be in your presence." Rolling my eyes, everyone was staring at me. Ignoring them, I had hope that I wouldn't get him in trouble.
"I can come whenever you need me. Let's go inspire some kids to keep writing." I uttered with my brightest smile, watching him relax. "I will sign any books anyone brings. That would be my honor. Take me to the class." The noise died down, looks of admiration meeting my anxious expression. Did they get my message? Entering his classroom, the wall was covered with dos and don'ts of writing. The students perked up at the sight of me, all of them holding a copy of every book I had written. Scarlet colored my cheeks, Lucas patting me on the shoulder before sitting down. Sitting on the desk in front of the class, I cleared my throat. Thanks for the comfort, kid.
"I am Remy, the author of the books you are currently holding. I will answer your questions." I promised with my real smile, all the hands shooting up. Checking the clock, I would have to come back. Answering question after question, their childlike wonder never left their faces. Stopping them for the last fifteen minutes, my pen didn't stop moving. Signing my name with personal messages, the bell rang. Picking everything up, I hadn't had time to sign the teacher's books. Students poured out, Lucas waving at me on the way out. Sitting in his squeaky chair, I pulled his pile of books in front of me. He waited patiently for me to get to this point, his eager expression mixing with a bit of apprehension.
"Can I sign yours?" I offered sincerely, his face lighting up. "I am going to leave you with my card. Call me when they want me to come in and when you need help with your own writing. I may not have the degree but I can give you real life advice." Signing inspirational quotes in each one with my signature, my steady hand leaving a card in the last one. Rising to my feet, his hand grabbed my wrist. Pulling him into a gentle embrace, his smile grew wider. People needed to know that I was nice. My fans got me here and they all should probably know that as well.
"Thank you." He blurted out oddly, shaking in his spot. "I was wondering if you could come in once a month." Smiling softly to myself, I shot him a thumbs up as I left. It was nice to know that people liked me in this crappy world. Students waved at me as I left the school, some of the teachers looking less than impressed. Climbing into my car, my shaking hand clipped my seat belt into place. Turning on the engine, the fields of the school turned to the cement buildings of the city. Parking in front of the coffee shop, I paid the meter on the way in. His old man waved me over with a freshly made green tea, and a wide grin. Sitting down across from him, he made it easy to ignore the death glares. Damn, his family was weird.
"The publisher likes your edits and wants to press ahead. Do you approve?" He asked while shaking with excitement, my shaking hand picking up the pen. "They want to make it a series because you ended it so openly. Will you do at least two more?" Scanning the contract, no problems stuck out. Signing all the lines, I slid it over to him. Checking to make sure I filled out all the lines, he tucked it back into an orange envelope. This was exciting, my comeback was going to be one to write about in the history books.
"How is the baby?" He asked with his kind smile, taking my hands. "Do you want to get out of here? Everyone is glaring at you like you murdered them." Letting out a busted breath, my eyes staring into my tea. Tears welled up in my eyes, the chair groaning as I rose to my feet. Wiping the silent tears from my eyes, it was clear that I wasn't welcome here. Crossing my hands, I needed to go home to get back to work. First I wanted to surprise my husband with his favorite lunch.
"What is your son's favorite lunch? I want to surprise him at work." I queried with a sad smile, a sympathetic smile meeting mine. "He seemed off today. Did I do something wrong?" Rising to his feet, he shot the coffee shop with his intense death glare. Shrinking back, his lips parted to yell at them. One touch on his arm telling him to stop, a contentious expression meeting mine. Walking him out to my car, he gave me a warm bear hug in front of everyone.
"He likes the taco truck around the corner of his office. I am sure he would love to see you." He answered apprehensively, glaring at the coffee shop patrons. "How about we find a new meeting place and perhaps a family dinner at my place every Sunday. You can bring a side and dessert. Can we agree to that?" Hugging him back with twice as much warmth, I discreetly flipped off the people who betrayed me.
"Of course. Text me the time we have to be there." I answered calmly, putting my middle finger away. "Have a nice day." Helping me into my car, he waved at me until I was out of his view. Chewing on my lip on the way to my husband's work, the music did little to unsettle me. Squealing to a halt in one of the visitor parking spots, my fingers curled around my purse. The clock read five minutes after twelve, the hurt from the coffee shop almost coming out. Shaking it off, Domy didn't need to know. Getting out with my purse, I made sure to lock the doors. Walking out to the street, a small line was forming at the taco truck. Taking my spot in line, the size of the outside threatened to cripple me. Keeping my breath slow, it felt as if every eye was on me. It wasn't if I was wrong, the sea of gray suits were already whispering about me. Ordering my food, my foot tapped incessantly. Paying the man, he slid me two orders of tacos. Entering his building, two muscular security guards blocked my path. The taller one nearly knocked the tacos out of my hands as his receptionist called his office. The stern lady shot me a judging look, her wrinkles becoming deeper with her growing scowl. Did she think that a tight bun combined with the fake red hair was going to make her younger?
"I am his wife, Remy. Let me up." I demanded politely, starting to lose my temper. "I was coming here pretty regularly. Jesus Christ." His receptionist snapped to her feet, her fat hand pointing at me. I didn't know a scowl could deepen until she kept yelling that I was a murderer. Rolling my eyes, her chubby face shook with each vocal jab to my mental state. Her gray sweater reminded me of my principal's, the outdated blouse not helping her out. Cocking my brow, this could not be happening. Ignoring her, my husband was sure to be down. That was until she said something that triggered me.
"You will always be a murderer to me. You helped him, you little brat!" She shouted at me with conviction, my unimpressed expression annoying her further. "You could look like you actually care." Straightening my back, my lips parted to speak. Domy stepped out of the elevator, the receptionist sitting back down. Pushing his guards aside, his eyes flitted between the old hag and me.
"Did she say anything to you, my dear wife?" He barked venomously, his fiery gaze falling on me. "Did she say anything horrible to you?" Glancing over at the trembling receptionist, I wasn't going to be the reason she lost her job. Clearing my throat, my eyes met my husband's.
"No. She was only acting according to your rules. If I looked bothered it was by the people outside by the taco truck today." I assured him with my real smile, hoping that he would buy it. "I only wanted to have lunch with y-" Dropping the tacos on the floor, my eyebrow twitched at my stupid bad luck. Getting on my hands and knees to pick up my mess, Domy helped me to my feet. Calling over a janitor, his strong hands whisked me into the elevator. Folding his arms across his chest, an inquisitive look fell on my broken expression. Hating myself for screwing up the lunch plan, his harsh words broke me out of my downward spiral.
"Why did you stick up for her after what she said to you?" He interrogated heatedly, still seething at how she treated me. "I can fi-" Raising my hand in the air, I had to deal with such words all the time.
"She was only acting on what she believed in and I can't hate her for that. I hope she respects me for today." I chirped cheerfully, hiding my increasing anxiety with a bright smile. "If you still want to fire then go ahead but don't do it because of a little old me. Sorry about l-" Kissing me passionately, his hand slid down to my bump. Arching towards him, the door dinged open. A container of our leftovers steamed on his desk, ruby coloring our cheeks. Rubbing the back of his head, a nervous chuckle escaped his lips.
"Your food is my favorite. I love it every time you cook for me, so I fixed myself a container to grab last night." He explained with his real smile, the crookedness of the left side of his lip giving it away. "I have never tasted anything so delicious. Would you care to eat with me?" Struggling to come up with an answer, tears of joy flooded from my eyes. The salty drops hit the floor, a dim worry haunting his exhausted expression. Deep bags showed how little he slept, his strong hands dragging me onto his lap as he crashed into his chair. No one had ever complimented my food, my parents always criticizing it for hours. Popping a meatball into my mouth, my attention turned back to him. Chewing on the tender meatball, it tasted as I always made it. Eating his own, his lips brushed against the top of my head.
"Delicious as always." He moaned jovially, turning me around to face him. "I am so lucky to have you as my wife. I made the right decision by asking you. Add amazing cooking to the list of things I love about you. You are my goddess. Please eat some for our child of course." What had him so happy at the flip of a switch. Pressing my palms together, I wanted him to keep smiling like that.
"I am glad you liked it." I uttered shyly, a forkful of noodles were shoved into my mouth. Finishing up the bite, he rested his chin on my head. Holding me with his free arm, I melted into his embrace. Wishing that it would never end, a fit of laughter burst from his lips. Gazing down at me with all the love in the world, his finger traced my cheek.
"You are far from the angry woman that told me to fuck off." He teased blithely, his natural smile cast a tender blush onto my cheeks. "I am working late tonight unfortunately but I should be home by eleven." Sadness tainted my features, the rest of the lunch tainted my rare moment of joy. Leaving him after lunch, my mind kept wandering on the ride home. Lucas would be taking the bus home which meant that I would have to have dinner ready by six at the latest. His house looming over me stole me from my lost train of thought, the emptiness of his home sinking me into a deeper depression. Laying down on the couch, the comfy material looked so inviting. It looked so much better with life in, my heart sinking into my stomach. Exhaustion weighed on my eyelids, sweet slumber stealing me away.
Jerking awake, Lucas was busy making a bowl of cereal. Guilt ate me, one wave of his hand silencing me. Plopping down next to me, he turned on the television. Staring straight ahead, he passed me a couple of pieces of buttered toast. Parting my lips in protest, his eyes falling on me.
"I can cook for myself, you know." He promised with a quiet smile, taking a bite of his cereal. "I thought you were sleeping because of morning sickness. Although, I feel like you don't sleep that much either. Point is, I let you sleep because I think you need more of it. Don't worry, I did all my homework before you ask. One last thing, you are internet famous thanks to social media showing the world how awesome you are." Unsure of what he was talking about, I set down my toast. Passing me his phone, a video of me talking to his class was going viral. Comments such as she is so amazing kept popping up. Tears welled up in my eyes at all the students thanking me at the end of the videos. Handing his phone back, I picked up my toast. Eating it with him, we felt like a real family. Staring at him for too long, I looked away.
"I don't care what anyone says about you. I already want to call you mom." He admitted pointedly, looking right into my eyes. "Half the time I couldn't get my mother out of bed which meant that I was taking care of her. I did the cooking and cleaning. It was like raising a broken doll. You cook for me and ask me if I am okay all the time. It's weird but I kind of like it. So from now on you will be called mom by me. Is that okay?" Wiping away the endless waterfall cascading from my eyes, his words made me so happy. Blubbering away, he finished up his cereal. Hugging me awkwardly, we both couldn't look at each other. Letting me go, we focused on the show playing. The house didn't feel so alone, our laughter twinkling in the air. Heading to bed at nine, he paused at the bottom of the stairs.
"Night, Mom!" He yelled with a big smile, running up to his room. Leaving me to stew in my emotions, I found myself in the bedroom not long after. Peeling off my dress, I tossed it into the hamper. Taking a quick shower, I threw one of my sweaters over my head. This left my navy lace underwear exposed, my nipples rubbing irritably against the soft cotton of my sweater. Running downstairs, the time read close to ten o' clock. I should surprise him with my cooking when he gets home, my slender hands grabbing all of the ingredients for my mac n' cheese. Placing my headphones over my ears, I began to make my meal for him. Focusing on the task at hand, the heavy metal had carried me to the point of a steaming hot mac n' cheese. Stepping into the garden, I cut down a few yellow roses. Setting the table, a mere five minutes remained. Sitting down in my spot, five minutes turned into thirty. My meal for him was no longer warm, tears splashing onto my plate. Seconds from giving up, Domy let himself in. Taking off his shoes and jacket, his tie landed on top of my head. Letting out a groggy yawn, guilt twisted his features. Placing the mac n' cheese back into the still hot oven for a few minutes, he poured himself a glass of wine. The rough day wore on him, my chair groaning as I ran over to him. Embracing him from behind, his hands cupped mine. He had nothing to worry about, I was scared that he had run away.
"Remy, you don't have to do this for me. I could have had a bowl of cereal or something." He protested playfully, intertwining his fingers with mine. "Why must you be so perfect?" Turning around, he pulled the mac n' cheese from the oven. Setting it back down where I had it, he pulled out my chair. Scooping out a bit for me, he focused on himself. Watching him from across the table, he took a bite. Moaning like earlier, his real smile never left his face. Finishing up his portion, he noted my still full plate. Sipping on his wine, he motioned for me to eat. Devouring my plate, his calmness returned. Picking up the mess for me, I rose to my feet. Placing the dirty plates in the sink, his strong hands put the pan into the fridge. Averting my gaze to the floor, he grabbed me by my hips. Sliding his hands up my sweater, my thighs rubbed together. What was he doing to me? Sink into my pleasures, I told myself. Kissing the nape of my neck, short gasps burst from my lips. Walking back towards the wall, he pinned me down with a hungry look.
"Do you want to play, Remy? You look delectable." He groaned huskily, his free hand unbuttoning his shirt. Sliding down the wall, tonight was going to be fun.