Twilight Tears, page 11
“How much?”
“Enough to cover four of my fingers.” Yakov holds up his hand as reference, and I want to disappear.
My face flames as Dr. Jenkins makes his notes. “The two of you were engaging in some sexual activities, then?”
“I performed oral,” Yakov says.
He perfected oral. But given the fact that I’m about to combust with embarrassment, I keep that thought to myself.
Dr. Jenkins, on the other hand, is an absolute professional. He simply nods and places a blood pressure cuff on my arm. “Have the two of you had any penetrative sex in the last twenty-four hours?”
“Just a finger,” Yakov says. “During the oral.”
If there is a merciful God, He would kill me now.
“Some bleeding can be normal during pregnancy, especially after sex. There is a lot of extra blood in the area. It could be something as small as a scratch from your fingernail.”
“That’s what I said!” I blurt.
Yakov narrows his eyes at me. “And I said we would rather be safe than sorry.”
“And that is what I always say.” Dr. Jenkins directs me to lie down on the exam table and lays a small blanket over my lap. “Any concern, big or small, is worth looking into.”
Dr. Jenkins lifts my shirt and presses a small wand to my stomach. “This is a fetal heart rate monitor. You’ve already seen one of these before. I’ll just listen to the heartbeat and—”
A whooshing sound fills the room before he can finish. It’s a loud, constant rhythm that clips along way faster than any heartbeat I’ve ever heard before.
“That’s the baby?” I ask.
The last time I heard the baby’s heartbeat was the night Yakov saved me from Akim. I was barely able to sit still without shaking. So when the nurse told me she found the heartbeat, I couldn’t really appreciate it.
Now, my eyes fill with tears.
“That’s your baby,” Dr. Jenkins confirms. “A nice, strong heartbeat.”
Yakov grabs my hand and squeezes. “So everything is fine?”
“Everything is—” The whooshing sound falters. It blurs and overlaps. Dr. Jenkins readjusts the doppler and picks up the sound again, but his forehead is creased.
“Everything is what?” Yakov snaps. “Is it fine or—”
Dr. Jenkins blinks and slaps on a delayed smile. “Fine. Great, actually. Perfectly healthy.”
I glance at Yakov and he’s eyeing the doctor with the same suspicion I feel.
Something is wrong.
When we walked in here, I felt confident the baby was healthy. I knew Yakov was overreacting. Now, there’s a pit in my stomach that grows with every second Dr. Jenkins spends staring at the doppler.
Suddenly, he puts the doppler away. “I’m going to go ahead and get you back to the ultrasound tech, Luna.”
“Why? We heard the heartbeat. That means everything is okay, right?”
“This is just a precaution.” He’s smiling, but it isn’t convincing. “You’ve come all this way. We might as well do a full check-up.”
“But is everything okay?”
Dr. Jenkins lays his hand on my shoulder. “Everything is fine, Luna. You have one healthy baby in there.”
I blow out a shaky breath. “Okay.”
Dr. Jenkins leads us out of the exam room and down the hall. Nurses and other doctors tip their head to him as he passes.
“He doesn’t work here, right?” I whisper to Yakov.
“No. He just set up a home base here so he can take care of you.”
“How much is all of this costing you?”
Yakov squeezes my hand. “There is no limit to what I’d be willing to pay to make sure you’re safe.”
I lay my head on his shoulder as we walk. “Sorry I was being stubborn about coming. You were right.” I squeeze his arm tighter. “I think… I think something might be wrong. You saw his face back there, didn’t you?”
“I did. But whatever it is, we’ll face it together.” He turns and kisses my temple.
I’m shaking as Dr. Jenkins leads me into the darkened ultrasound room and gets me positioned on the exam table, but I cling to Yakov’s words. We can face anything together.
Dr. Jenkins presses the wand to my stomach and stares at a screen I can’t see. He frowns as he moves the wand around, tapping buttons on a keyboard.
I want to grab the screen and twist it towards me. I want to scream at him to tell me what the hell is going on with my baby. But I lie here patiently.
Yakov’s thumb massages soft circles over my knuckles while we wait.
“I told you you had one healthy baby in there,” Dr. Jenkins says, twisting the screen so I can see.
The white blob I saw a few weeks ago already looks more distinctly human. There’s now a little nose and pouty lips. Tiny arms shake back and forth.
“Everything is fine.” I press a hand to my racing heart. “She is fine, right?”
“Perfectly fine. As far as the gender goes, who knows? It could go either way. Or maybe you’ll have one of each,” Dr. Jenkins says.
I flush. “Maybe. Yeah. We haven’t really talked about—We don’t have any plans yet.”
“Hopefully, you want at least two,” Dr. Jenkins says.
“Why is that?” I ask, still smiling.
“Well, I said you had one healthy baby back in the exam room because I knew for a fact that was true. But I also had a suspicion.” He shifts the wand over and suddenly, the screen splits into two. There’s a thin line running down the center of the screen and there are two circles on either side. “Now, I’m thrilled to tell you that you have two healthy babies.”
My smile drops. My entire face is numb.
I stare at the two circles as, somewhere deep in my brain, I realize they are heads. Two heads.
Two babies.
Two healthy babies.
“What are you—”
“We’re having twins,” Yakov murmurs, putting the pieces of this puzzle together before I can. He kisses my forehead and folds my hand against his chest. “Blyat’, Luna. You’re carrying my babies.”
Babies. Multiple.
“I heard a murmur on the doppler and thought there might be more than one,” Dr. Jenkins explains. “I wanted to get you an ultrasound to confirm. But yes, you are pregnant with twins, Luna. Congratulations.”
23
LUNA
“Twins.” Mariya eyes my stomach like the babies are going to burst through my chest, Alien-style. “There are two babies in there?”
“That is the definition of twins, yes.”
It’s been over twenty-four hours since I walked out of the hospital and not only have I come to terms with the fact that I’m having twins… I think I’m over it.
I’m not over the babies, obviously. They are tiny, precious miracles. Every time I think about holding one of them in each arm, I start to cry with joy.
My babies are not the problem. It’s everyone outside of my womb that is driving me up the freaking wall.
I haven’t been alone for even a second since yesterday morning. Before we left the office, Dr. Jenkins told Yakov to make sure I “take it easy.” I understood it for what it was: a joke. A generic, throwaway line. Not actual medical advice.
But Yakov hasn’t let me lift a finger since.
He carried me into the house, has escorted me to the bathroom each time I need to go, and even cut my steak for me at dinner last night. A few weeks ago, all I wanted was to see more of Yakov. I missed him. Now, as thrilled as I am that we aren't fighting, I would do almost anything for five minutes to myself. To process. To take a deep breath. To pee in privacy.
“Twins are so weird when you really think about it,” Mariya says. “Kind of gross, actually.”
I roll my eyes. “How is having two babies any different than having one?”
She mutes the TV. “Think about it like a sleeping bag. One person in a sleeping bag? Fine. Two people in a sleeping bag? Hot and sweaty and claustrophobic.”
“They’re floating in amniotic fluid. They aren’t hot and sweaty; I’m hot and sweaty.”
Like a bloodhound on the scent, Yakov appears in the doorway. “Do you feel okay?”
Oh, no. Not this song and dance right now. “Hello to you, too.”
“I can call Dr. Jenkins.”
I give him a tight smile. “I’m just warm. Pregnant people get hot,” I explain, trying not to sound as frustrated as I feel. “It’s normal. I’m okay.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. It should be sweet, but he’s staring at my stomach. It feels like everyone is constantly staring at my stomach. I’m not going to explode, people.
“She said she’s fine,” Mariya groans. “The human oven is just a little warm. It’s to be expected.”
I elbow Mariya in the side. “Hey! I am not just a human oven.”
“You’re not just a human oven, obviously. But you are, definitionally, a human oven.”
Yakov reaches over me to swipe the remote out of Mariya’s hand. “Out.”
“She doesn’t have to go,” I protest.
He waves me away. “She’s stressing the babies.”
“The babies are stressed?” I can’t actually believe what I’m hearing. I just said I feel like a human incubator and he’s worried the babies are stressed? I throw my arms wide. “What about me?”
“When you’re stressed, the babies are stressed,” he says simply. “It’s one and the same.”
I wasn’t stressed before, but I am now. I can feel my blood pressure rising. I would walk away and cool off, but Yakov would pick me up before I could take my first step.
The walls are closing in and there is no escape.
“We aren’t ‘one and the same’!” I yell. “I am a person separate from these babies. I still exist beyond growing them.”
“I was joking about the human oven thing,” Mariya interjects. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s not just you, Mariya. It’s you,” I say, jabbing a finger at Yakov. The words are pouring out of me now, coming too fast to stop. Everything I’ve bottled up for days spewing out in a heady rush. “I know when I need to call the doctor. I don’t need you to decide that for me. I also don’t need you to carry me anywhere. I’m pregnant, not crippled! I can walk and cut my food and pee by myself, for fuck’s sake!”
The steam is still escaping out my ears, but I already know I fucked up.
Yakov looks taken aback for a single second before he schools his face into an unreadable mask. “Do it by yourself then.”
Without another word, he turns and leaves.
With him gone, I expect the feeling in my chest to ease. I take a few breaths, waiting for relief to come. But it doesn’t.
“Now, I kind of wish I’d gone upstairs when I had the chance,” Mariya mumbles. “That was awkward.”
“God, I’m a bitch, aren’t I?” I drop my face into my hands. “He was worried about me and I yelled at him.”
Mariya snorts. “He has been obsessing over you nonstop all day. I am all about seeing my brother access his inner softie, but it was annoying even for me.”
“I just… I cannot spend the next six months letting him carry me to the bathroom.”
“Especially since you’ll be waaaay too heavy to carry by the end.”
I swat Mariya with the back of my hand. “That is not funny.”
She laughs anyway. “You’re having twins. It’s time to face your destiny. You’re going to be a whale here in a few months. By that point, you might want Yakov to carry you around and do everything for you.”
“Maybe. But I don’t want it now. I just need to feel… normal.”
“I get that, but…” She sways back and forth, teetering on the edge of saying something I know I’m not going to like.
I ask anyway. “But what?”
“I was shot, Loon. Nik is in a coma—” Her voice breaks, but she clears her throat quickly. “There has been an avalanche of shit that Yakov can do nothing about. But you and the babies? He can do something about that. He can protect you and the babies with everything he fucking has. Right now, that’s all he has.”
“Wow,” I say finally. “That sucks.”
“What does?”
I look at her. “You just confirmed I really was being a bitch.”
“Correct,” Mariya chuckles. “But between you and me, I think he’ll forgive you.”
I wake up to the sound of the front door opening.
Mariya went to her room hours ago, but I decided to wait up for Yakov. I assumed he’d come home for dinner, but dinner came and went without any sign of him. Then I figured he’d come home once hospital visiting hours were over, but one glance at the clock tells me they ended hours ago. Probably around the same time I finally gave into exhaustion and fell asleep.
If he went somewhere aside from Nik's hospital room, he really must be mad at me.
There are footsteps in the entryway and I quickly wipe the drool from my chin and run my fingers through my tangled hair.
Yakov walks past the living room quickly. He's little more than a blur. No sign he's going to stop.
When I clear my throat, he jerks to a stop and spins to face me. His face is unreadable. “You should be asleep.”
“I was,” I admit, gesturing to the nest of blankets on the couch. “I fell asleep waiting for you to come home.”
“Do you need something?” he asks coolly.
“I need to talk to you. I want to talk to you.”
His jaw flexes. The lamp casts his cheekbones in stark relief. “Go to sleep. I don’t want to talk.”
“Then I’ll talk,” I rush to say before he can turn away. “Everything happened so fast, Yakov. One baby and then two. You and me. Everything changed overnight. I needed a second to process it all. Then I got some seconds to process and all I did was sit around feeling like a bitch for snapping at you.”
His eyes are fixed on some point over my head. “Don’t waste your time worrying about me, Luna. I can handle it.”
“But I am worried about you. Because this is all happening to you, too. You’re going to be a dad. That’s wild. I need to give you space to worry and process, too. I was just overwhelmed and amped up on baby hormones. A double dose of hormones, I think, since there are two of them in there. I don’t know if that is scientifically accurate, but it feels right.”
“I’ll ask Dr. Jenkins.”
“Or maybe I’ll ask Dr. Jenkins,” I counter, stepping closer. “I’d love to have a little more control over my appointments and when I need to call the doctor. I’d also like more control over other things like… using my own legs.” He narrows his eyes and I quickly cross the room to stand in front of him. “You have been taking amazing care of me, Yakov. I’m so grateful. There was a time when I didn’t know if you’d even want to be around for me and the baby.”
“Of course I’m going to be there for my kids,” he growls. “I wouldn’t abandon them.”
I nod. “I know that now. And I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me and for them. Truly. But I also need to feel like a capable human. I need to be strong to give birth to two babies. I need to keep exercising and using my body. That’s part of a healthy pregnancy.”
He reaches out and touches my cheek. “You were bleeding.”
“And Dr. Jenkins told you it was normal,” I remind him. “I’m okay. Our babies are okay.”
He’s holding himself so rigidly that I know he’s fighting all of his instincts to pull me close and not let me go.
I slide my hand down his arm to his wrist. “What if I promise to ask you for help when I need it? Like, when I’m ginormously pregnant and my feet are swollen, I’ll probably be begging you to carry me around.”
His mouth is pressed into a stubborn line, but he can’t keep the spark out of his eyes.
“I look forward to hearing you beg,” he says softly.
I walk around him and pull the sitting room’s pocket doors closed. Then I flick the brass lock into place and turn to face him. “Why wait? You could hear me beg now.”
He assesses me coolly. “Beg for what, specifically?”
I put my arms around his neck and draw close. Our bodies slide together as I press onto my toes and kiss him.
He kisses me back, but his hands stay down at his sides. He’s holding himself away from me in a way he usually doesn’t. So I grab the front of his shirt and pull him with me until my back is pressed against the wall and I’m pinned in by his body. “Please,” I whisper between kisses.
“You were bleeding yesterday,” he says again. “Yesterday.”
“That was normal.”
He presses his hand flat to the wall next to my head and pushes himself away. “You need more time to rest.”
I hear Mariya’s words in my head. He can protect you and the babies with everything he fucking has. Right now, that’s all he has.
I don’t want to take that away from him.
But I’m also physically aching to be close to him. We fought and now, I need to make up. That might just be the pregnancy hormones talking, but I don’t care. I want him.
“I want you to know I appreciate how much you care about me.” I stroke my hands from his shoulders to his chest. Then I push, walking him back towards the couch until he drops down onto the cushion. I lower onto my knees in front of him. “I want to show you how much I appreciate it.”
I unbutton his pants and slide the zipper down.
Yakov grabs my wrist. “Luna.”
“This is what we do after a fight, isn’t it?” I ask, making a show of licking my lips. “Let me make it up to you, Yakov. Please. Fuck my mouth.”
His eyes go dark. There’s a single beat of hesitation before he releases my wrist and lets me free him from his boxers. Before he can change his mind, I drag my tongue slowly along the underside of his cock.
“Fuck,” he exhales, fisting his hand in my hair.
He grows in my hand and shifts his hips to the edge of the couch. When I swallow him, the groan he releases comes from deep in his chest.
I have the power to hurt him, but it’s this power that gets me off. Knowing I can make him feel good beats everything else.
