[Recap: While trying to get his wife pregnant, Aidan has come up with a game to spice up their love life. It appears to be harmless enough, so Rosa reluctantly agrees. The games are coming to a conclusion and with the pressures of IVF, Rosa sets up one final bet]
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FINALS WEEK
After dinner Aidan does the washing up, scrubbing the frying pan methodically. He's got a couple of cups to do and then he's finished. He drags it out, washing them and stacking them neatly before wiping down the surfaces. Rosa is in the lounge, but he doesn't want to go there yet. The look on Cassidy's face comes back to him. Maybe she's right, maybe they need help. The kitchen is tidy, nothing more to be done.
Aidan walks into the lounge, sees his wife laid on the couch watching something on the laptop. He lifts her feet and plops down onto the cushions. Rosa settles her legs across his knees but doesn't say anything. She's wearing track pants and a long-sleeved sweatshirt, completely covering up her superb body. He rubs her shins through the thick cotton.
"Whatcha watching?" he asks.
"Stuff," she replies.
"Tired?"
"Yeah. Long day."
Aidan shrugs, and replies, "Yeah. Maybe two spin classes was too much."
Rosa looks up, peering over the screen. "What, like I should rest more?" she replies in a dangerously even tone.
"I'm just saying that maybe you push yourself too hard. You get too tired."
As he says the words, he immediately wants to take them back, but Rosa's staring at him now.
"Like if I rested all the time then maybe we'd get an egg to stick?"
"I didn't mean that. Jesus, I just meant you look tired."
Aidan tries to throttle down the irritation welling up within him. He didn't have to ask what was on her mind because it was on his mind too. They'd inserted the first embryo and put the other one on ice. One of their remaining two chances, the last her body would yield up.
Rosa's eyes flick down to the screen again, ignoring him. In irritation, Aidan reaches out and turns the laptop, twisting it out of her hands. She's watching porn: a woman positioned doggy-style and being pounded mercilessly from behind. She's completely enclosed in a black latex bodysuit that even covers her eyes and mouth, rocking backwards and forwards in time with her partner's thrusts. Rosa grabs the laptop back and continues watching the woman on screen, even as Aidan's hand drifts up her leg.
"How about we go to bed, Rosa?"
His forefinger traces little circles on her inner thigh but she doesn't respond.
"No need to watch it. We can do it ourselves."
"Which part? The fucking from behind part or the turning the woman into a plastic sex toy?"
Aidan huffs, goaded by her tone. "We haven't, uh, done it since before the insertion. It might be what you need."
He feels like he's made a good point. It's been two weeks. Rosa looks at him again, expressionless.
"Nah, time of the month."
It's the way she says it, matter-of-fact, without any hint of emotion, that strikes him like a physical blow.
"Uh, are you sure?" he blurts out before he can really process what she's telling him.
"Yep, been getting them for a few years now. Pretty damn sure."
"Oh babe," Aidan gasps, "I'm sorry. I'm...."
Rosa doesn't wait for him to finish. She swings her legs off him and stands up, abandoning the laptop.
"I'm going to bed," she says and then just like that, he's alone in the lounge.
A weight descends on him. All that effort, all that time, for two chances. They'd seen both of them grow and flourish, picked one to go in immediately and one to go on ice. Aidan had been utterly sure that this time they couldn't lose, but now they were left with one last chance sitting in deep freeze. No more left in her battered ovaries and no guarantee of avoiding the exact same outcome next time.
Aidan's body slumps. Discarded, the laptop is still open on the cushion next to him, playing the video with the sound off. The man is fucking her hard, but the tight, all-encompassing latex has removed her individuality, her identity, transforming her from a living, breathing woman with wants and emotions into an empty, shiny plastic toy for his use. She has no choice but to stay in the position he's placed her in while he reaches his climax and pumps her full of his seed. The man is overcome with animal passion but instead of breeding her, he's been tricked. He's just pumping his seed into a sterile latex hole.
The video loops back to the beginning again as Aidan just stares and stares.
---
They're in the car the next day on the way home from work when Aidan tries to have the conversation again, but Rosa's ignoring him. The traffic is heavy and they're getting nowhere. In the end, frustrated by the slow progress and his wife's intransigence, he just comes out with it.
"We still have one more," he says, from out of nowhere.
Silence.
"We can try again."
He waits for her to fill the void.
"We can try one more time," Rosa replies, using the same level, no-nonsense tone from the previous night.
"Yes! That's what I'm saying," Aidan replies enthusiastically, glad to hear her finally engaging with him on the topic.
"But what's the point?" she continues, "Multiple cycles. None of them survive, ever."
The finality of her statement kills his next words before they leave his mouth. He's speechless.
"This is where you suggest a bet," Rosa muses, "Something to get me to focus on anything other than the fucking inevitable."
"No. Not a bet. Just, uh, let's just line up another go."
Rosa pauses, but he's weaving his way across lanes so he can't look across to read her expression.
"Let's do a new bet," he hears her say, "Basketball season's winding up. It's the playoffs. We could bet on the final."
"Rosa, I just want to talk about...."
"We could get the gang together at that sports bar in the city. We haven't seen some of the guys in ages."
"Rosa."
Aidan chances a look at his wife. She's staring at him coldly.
"Or are you too chicken-shit to take on another bet?" she says.
By the time they're home, Rosa has already sent out the invites. It's not what Aidan wants but she's ploughing ahead regardless, steamrolling him.
"Season final," she calls out from the kitchen, "Thought about your side of the bet yet? Make it a big one."
She's pressuring him, pushing his buttons, but at least she's talking. Maybe this will lead to talking about the things that really matter, giving her something else to focus on so that he can swing it around to the conversation about the....
The last golden marble. That dream flashes back into his mind. The soft velvet bag, his wife's beautiful, happy face. Then he recalls the nurse, so familiar and yet... then he places her: Cassidy. He blinks, trying to dispel the memory of the dream.
Rosa comes in, carrying two microwave meals still in their plastic containers, a fork stuck in each twirl of fettucine.
"So," she says, "What's your side? What do you want to do?"
She's intense, suddenly animated after the lethargic sullenness, but he can't tell if this is a good sign or foreboding. He's no longer sure how to read his wife's moods.
He's had enough of her needling. "Got one," he fires back too quickly, not thinking it through, caught by the memory of what she was watching on the laptop the night before.
"Tell me."
"Full latex."
Rosa's mood changes instantly. "Really?" she asks.
"Yeah. I saw what you were watching last night."
Rosa doesn't reply. Her expression gives nothing away.
"How about you?" Aidan prompts his wife.
"Uh, let me think."
She turns to eat, twirling her fork to entangle the pasta, taking small mouthfuls. She doesn't say anything else, and they finish the meal in silence.
After they've finished and tidied up, Rosa still doesn't offer her side of the bet and it's not until they're ready to go to sleep that she pulls Aidan down onto the bed.
