Never Have We Ever, page 5
“Does he?”
“When he’s drunk on wine, he tells me that my number one duty as a husband is to make money. The second one is to make you come.”
“André!”
“I think I am lacking at number two because I am gone so much. Even though I call you and try to have fun half a world away.”
“I can’t understand you on the phone when you speak French!”
“I am such a bad tutor. How can my wife know that I want to make love on the phone if she cannot understand me?”
“How can you be so forward?”
“I am only so forward with my wife.”
That was one of those phrases that would haunt Valeska for years to come, but that night, on the second anniversary of her marriage to André Dubois, she found it so terribly romantic that she cut their dinner short and allowed her husband to take her upstairs for the rest of the evening. They ate their dessert of tiramisu near midnight, when they were naked in bed and André teased her that she should pick a homely female companion, so she would not be tempted to bed her when he was away.
“I think you want to imagine it, but I am not like that,” she chided.
He lightly tapped her bare skin with the dessert fork they shared. “I will do my best to not be away so much that you become that way. I want my wife to myself.”
While the tantalizing touch of sharp metal against her skin infused her with more energy, Valeska placed her hand against her husband’s naked chest and said, “I want my husband too. For me only, yes?”
“More reasons for me to come home more often. My wife is so wonderful that I must make love to her every day.”
“Every day?”
“For now I will say it’s because we will make a baby. Later, I will say it’s because I am addicted to you.”
“You’re not already?”
He grinned. “You should read my letters, Madame Dubois.”
***
This is it. No turning back…
Luckily, Valeska did not have to suffer from a last-minute bout of anxiety before she and her husband reached the point of no return. André had timed his thrusts and the moment of his climax to include his wife’s own orgasmic escape. She would not be able to think about a damn thing – besides how wonderful it felt, of course – as he came inside of her.
That’s how it usually ended, but this time was different. Not only had Valeska stopped taking her birth control a week ago, but according to the calendar, she was ovulating. While it was no guarantee that conception would occur within the next few days, she had been anticipating this night with anxious dread.
There. That was it. No turning back. Good thing her orgasm had eased her nerves so well that she was nothing but smiles and sighs when her husband kissed her and continued to gently thrust his hips against thighs.
“You didn’t say it,” his tired voice said into her ear.
Valeska almost forgot what he meant. “Je jouis,” she muttered.
“Close enough.” He chuckled into the crook of her neck. “I think it’s nice when you say it in German too.”
“Do I?”
“Often.”
He offered one last kiss before pulling out. Valeska was content to lay in their bed and think of nothing but pleasant things, but her husband had done too much reading into purposeful pregnancies on his last business trip and decided to help his wife “concentrate” on more important matters.
“What are you…” Valeska gripped the headboard behind her and bit her bottom lip. There was something delightfully dirty about her husband shoving his fingers inside of her after having just marked his marital territory. “We have words for this fetish in German.”
“I’m sure it sounds very silly. Lift your hips, Madame Dubois.”
What was this, yoga class? Valeska played along, but only because she adored that mischievous glint in her husband’s eyes. “What else did you read in that book of yours?”
“Dr. Plant assured me that my wife’s orgasmic state would make conception more likely to occur. Would you like another one?”
“Another what? Biscuit?”
“No crumbs in the bed, please.”
Valeska often wondered if they could say such silly things in either German or French. Or did English simply lend itself to such pillow talk? “Is this going to be every time we have sex from now on?”
“Why? Do you hate it?”
What? Hate having multiple orgasms before shoving her hips up in the air and feeling her husband shove every finger he could into her pussy so none of his seed escaped? Well, they had done weirder things, honestly.
As it turned out, they only needed to do such nonsense for the next few weeks, until Valeska returned from the doctor with the good news… and a whole new set of anxieties her mother never prepared her for.
Chapter 5
What was supposed to be a lovely day with her mother and sister ended with Valeska’s daughter spilling orange juice all over the Chantilly lace tablecloth.
“Daniela!” It didn’t matter how quickly Valeska sprang into action. Once the juice sank into the tablecloth, it was over. The Monegasque restaurant would soon bill the Dubois family for cleaning and repair costs. For Chantilly lace. “Mein Gott, why are you so clumsy like this?”
“She’s a baby.” Marlene took care of her granddaughter’s sticky hands while a waiter leaped forward with napkins and cleaning solution. Valeska apologized profusely with her highly accented French. “Babies are clumsy. You think you were twirling batons at her age?”
Valeska was almost in tears over a damned tablecloth. It’s not only the tablecloth, is it? She had been stressed for weeks. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. Because the older Daniela grew, the more destruction she left in her wake. The girl was a little over three. How much worse would it get? Flashes of her teenaged years consumed Valeska.
She wished that was the only thing bothering her as of late.
“That’s why I left the kids with the nanny,” Hailey sighed from the other end of the table. “I learned with my first one like you are now, Valeska. You’ll see that these locales are no places for children. Especially babies!”
“She’s three,” Valeska mumbled. “Three is more than old enough to conduct herself.”
Both Marlene and Hailey snorted in disbelief. Fine. Mother of two and mother of three. Have at me. No matter what Valeska did, she was always the more inexperienced one. Hailey would lord everything she could over her big sister. That meant her practical mothering experience as well. Hailey was pregnant with a fourth kid for all Valeska knew.
As for her? Daniela had been enough of a handful since she was born. It was apparent from the moment she drew in her first breath, screaming in the echo chamber of a Parisian hospital, that she was Daddy’s little girl and therefore he was the only one she had to impress. André had been smitten with his daughter from her conception, let alone the day Valeska brought home the doctor’s test results. Naturally, Valeska was grateful that her husband loved their daughter so much. But since he still spent plenty of time away from home, he didn’t have to deal with the dirty aspects of childrearing. He had never changed a diaper or disciplined the growing girl. That fell upon Valeska’s shoulders. Or the nanny’s.
Was it too much to ask for some quality time with her family? Hailey rarely got to see her niece, and Marlene spent more time home in Austria those days. Only since the Dubois family moved to Monaco two years ago had she made a greater effort to visit her oldest daughter.
At least it got Valeska away from her mother-in-law. That woman started crowing for a grandson as soon as Daniela’s novelty had worn off. Didn’t matter that the little girl was the spitting image of every other Dubois woman, with her golden curls and big blue eyes. Or that she fluently spoke French first, and was commanding English second. Valeska couldn’t even have a fellow German-speaker in her daughter.
As apparent whenever Marlene tried to converse with her granddaughter in German. After the third attempt to ask her about her favorite TV show, Marlene turned to Valeska and said, “Why can’t she speak German? Are you not speaking it at home?”
“I speak it all the time around her. So does the nanny.” Lena had two jobs: speak German around Valeska, and speak German around Daniela. It actually infuriated Valeska that the only time she could get Daniela to count to ten in German was when she did it for Lena. Sometimes I think my daughter hates me. Valeska glanced at Daniela and couldn’t get a glance back.
“Enroll her in the international school and make her take German.” That was Marlene’s final piece of advice on the matter. “As long as she lives in Monaco or France, she will never forget French. She’ll have to learn English in school. So, make sure she learns German somewhere. Your children are destined to become trilingual.”
“Yeah, aren’t you so lucky?” Hailey laughed. When the waiter asked if any of the ladies would like an after-lunch cocktail, she was the only one who turned it down. You’re pregnant again, aren’t you? Hailey was the only one in three generations to marry another Catholic and live up to some of the oldest tenants. “My kids speak English and German.”
“What about Gaelic? None at all?”
“My husband may be Irish, but we don’t live in Ireland.” Like the Dubois family had uprooted from Paris and moved to Monaco, the Undercrofts now called London home so Hailey’s husband could make them even more money. “Why would my children know Gaelic? Not like it’s useful, either! French is much more practical. Consider yourself lucky, Valeska.”
Valeska did consider herself lucky. Just because her anxiety was always spiked and her insecurities manifested every time she went home…
No, no, she wasn’t going to think about that while enjoying a rare lunch with both her mother and sister. This was good for Daniela. Not only was she around her maternal family, but she surely must be picking up German listening to the three of them talk. Then again, she thought the same thing about the conversations she had with Lena.
“How are the French lessons?”
Valeska knew that tone in Hailey’s voice. Another thing to lord over her sister. “I still take them, of course. I understand most French TV now.”
“But you still can’t read your husband’s letters?”
I regret ever telling you about those. André rarely missed a letter when he was away from home. Sometimes he arrived home before the letters, and he pretended to know nothing about them. He’s a terrible actor in that regard. The few times he admitted to their existence, he told his wife she would simply have to study French harder so she could read them all one day. The last time he mentioned them was a year before. There had been a certain sadness to his voice, as if he were upset that Valeska’s French comprehension still wasn’t good enough to better understand his, “Hello, my wife! Today I went to a meeting in Taipei and I…” letters.
Not that Valeska didn’t try. If she had an evening to spare, she would sit down with her French dictionaries and treat the letters as special homework. That’s why her husband wrote them, right? His effort to help her understand his language. Says the man who barely knows any German.
“No, I can’t.” Valeska forced her daughter to sit up in her seat. It’s her naptime soon. Why did I think this was a good idea? “Romance languages are too tough for me. Especially French.”
“Imagine Portuguese.”
“I’d rather not.” Hailey waited to continue as Marlene got up and suggested taking Daniela with her to the restroom. As soon as both were gone, she said, “If you want my honest opinion, Valeska, he’s probably fooling around on you.”
Valeska bristled to be reminded of that reality. “I’d rather not discuss that.”
“My husband’s friend’s wife helped him do business in London a few months ago. She says he was very friendly with the British interpreter. Little more than Frenchmen should go, if you know what I mean.”
“Please don’t do this.” Valeska shook her head. “If it’s true, then it doesn’t matter. Our marriage isn’t going anywhere. Not with Daniela so young.” She didn’t bring up that she considered having another child to appease her husband’s family. I always wanted two children. Daniela is young enough to adjust to having a sudden sibling. Valeska was in her thirties now. It was time to seal how many children she planned to have.
“How does it not matter? If he’s sleeping around, then you should be able to as well!”
“That’s out of the question.” Truth was, Valeska didn’t want another man. That possibility sailed when they decided to have children. Not only did Valeska have to ensure that her children were André’s, but the bond they formed in both marriage and parenthood meant she couldn’t look at another man that way. I’m so sad and weak that all he has to do is look at me and I want to be with him. Valeska didn’t want proof that her husband sought other women outside of their marriage. It would break her heart, and she wasn’t sure she could do anything about it.
Not with Daniela so young. That’s what she told herself.
“Fine.” Hailey wiped her hands of her sister’s stubborn attitude. “It’s your face to save. He said that you guys could have an open marriage if that’s what you wanted, right?”
“That was what we discussed on our second anniversary. We decided to stay closed and have children.”
“Uh huh.” Hailey stole the cherry from her sister’s drink. “You’re a better woman that I am. If Dillon pulled that crap on me, I’d hang him by the testes. Then again, as you can tell from the amount of children we’ve had, I keep him preoccupied.”
“You’re not the only one satisfied in your marriage.”
“Hmph. That’s rich, since you said you didn’t even fuck him before your wedding.”
“Things changed quickly afterward.”
“I’m just saying. He’s away from home a lot. Men are idiots.”
“What good does it serve me to think about these things? Don’t you have something better to do than taunt me with half-truths?”
Marlene and Daniela returned from the restroom. Hailey shut up after that.
As much as Valeska hated to part from her family, she was needed at home, and Hailey was needed on an airplane back to London that evening. Marlene was staying with Valeska in the family flat near Monte Carlo. Daniela was attached to her mother’s lap, fast asleep the moment the car began to move.
“Welcome home,” Lena the nanny greeted them when they reached their two-level flat. Big enough for a married couple, their daughter, the nanny, the live-in maid, and a guest. Marlene, for now. “How was your lunch?”
“Fine.” Valeska didn’t bring up Daniela’s mishap. She was more inclined to pass her sleeping daughter off to Lena and bid her mother to go about her business. “Where is my husband?”
Lena patted Daniela’s golden curls and smoothed down her white dress. “Up in his office, meine Dame.”
The nanny wasn’t usually this polite. It must have been for Marlene’s benefit. “Danke. I will go see him about something private. Please take care of everything down here.”
Lena nodded, lips pursed. Keep them closed, you blabbermouth. Sometimes Valeska took Lena’s role as a German-speaking confidant too personally. Because she totally knew what “something private” meant. Get your mind out of the gutter. My daughter and my mother are both around.
Valeska kissed her daughter’s forehead before showing herself upstairs. André’s office was at the end of the hall, overlooking the Mediterranean, which was crystal blue and calm that sunny afternoon. No wonder André had claimed this room for his office. It was more soothing than his view of the Seine River back in Paris.
She lightly knocked before testing the door handle. The moment the door was ajar, she heard her husband speaking brusquely in French. His back was turned to his desk and the door. He always did prefer to stare at the ocean while taking business calls.
Valeska quietly closed the door behind her. The best way to get his attention was to stand off to the side and hope she didn’t startle him too much. When he was like this, it was easy for him to jump at her sudden presence, no matter how often she intruded.
“S’il vous plait, excusez-moi un instant.” He lowered his phone and gave her half-divided attention. “What is it?”
“Nothing important. I can wait.”
He briefly nodded before going back to his conversation. Valeska attempted to be patient, but her husband had decided to wear his work suit around the house. He must have had a phone conference or a meeting earlier that morning. Either way, Valeska was now taunted by this man in a tailored French suit that clung to every muscle and mussed hair that implied he had run his hand through it on more than one occasion.
Valeska locked the office door.
I hate that I can’t understand your conversation. André spoke much too quickly and casually for her to catch half the words uttered. I hate how often you’re away from home. His father had been lenient when Valeska was on maternity leave from most housework, but gradually, Monsieur Dubois upped his son’s traveling until he was gone more than ever before. Someone was being groomed to take over the company sooner rather than later. I hate the amount of women I see calling and texting you. André never hid it. Sometimes Valeska grabbed his buzzing phone off their bed and handed it to him in the shower. So many female names, like Collette, Roxanne, Tanya, Wilhelmina, and Yvette… Who were these women? Work colleagues? That’s what André told her when she politely inquired about an unknown name. She even met some of them. Pretty, young women who spoke a number of languages and laughed at André’s dumb jokes. The man was such an effortless charmer that he probably didn’t realize that those women knew he was flirting with them.
I hate how much I love you.
Valeska had been naïve to think she was prepared for this marriage. It was one thing to know her husband would probably sleep around, and it could be a point of discussion. Well, that point had come and gone. It was too late for her to open up dialogue about opening their marriage. She was a doormat now. She had to get whatever fun she could and pretend nothing else mattered.
