Lawrence pushed his shoes off, and stepped halfway across the living room before breathing a sigh of relief. He could see her through the open bedroom door.
Work had been rough, and continued long beyond the scheduled end of Lawrence's shift. But for the whole drive home, he'd thought of nothing but the last time he'd left her here.
Her head was at the foot of his bed, and she'd fallen asleep on her literature textbook with the lamp still on in the corner. He switched it off, working in the moonlight to switch the book out for a pillow, and pulled up the blankets she had lumped up over her feet. Then he drew the curtains closed and went for a quick shower.
When he returned, he moved his pillow to the foot of the bed, to lie face-to-face with her. He watched her slow, quiet breathing for a few moments, and decided he wouldn't wake her tonight. But he did reach out a hand, wiggling it through the blankets between her curled up arms and legs, to rest his fingers on the soft pad of her tummy.
I wonder.
He smiled to himself, and closed his eyes.
All is well.
~~~
"Um. Lawrence...?"
He raised an eyebrow at her, surprised to hear his name from her lips. It was probably the first time she'd spoken it.
"Joy?"
She bit her lower lip, then nodded.
She looked rumpled from sleeping in. Her soft brown hair hung loose around her shoulders, and she was wearing one of his white tee shirts over her otherwise naked body. It was nice to see her out of the hoodie, here in his home.
Our home,
he corrected himself.
"We-- we don't really know each other very well. Do we?"
Lawrence smiled, unbothered. He put a fresh teabag in his cup, and poured water over it before responding. "Maybe not. Why?"
"How are you so sure about me?"
Where is this coming from? How could I be anything but sure?
"Shouldn't I be?" he asked, anyway.
"I meant--"
Her face flickered with emotion, and it was suddenly clear she had something important to say. He moved closer and sat down, to let her know he was listening. "Tell me."
"You-- you said you want to--" she put a hand on her tummy, for just a moment. "That it would be okay, if I got p--" she tried to mouth the word a few times, then chewed her lip again. "But it's just a fantasy, right?"
She looked so nervous. Almost trembling.
Could it be?
It had been long enough now, for her to test, depending on her cycle. He felt a spark of excitement. A breathlessness. "Kitten..."
He looked over her body, so slight in his tee shirt. He could imagine her belly growing, pushing on the fabric.
Her eyes widened with realisation. "No, I'm not--!"
Not?
Confusion roiled in him.
"Then what?"
Joy turned and stepped away unexpectedly. He wondered if she wanted him to follow her to the bedroom, then saw her digging in a small zipped-up bag she'd left on the bed. She was retrieving something.
When she got back to him she didn't say a word, just opened her hand.
He knew what it was from the packaging, but he turned over the little rows of pills to find the small text anyway: ethinyl estradiol, drospirenone.
Birth control.
She was halfway through the package, so she must have picked it up soon after she'd left him that day. Maybe even on her way home. She'd probably taken an emergency contraceptive, too.
He stared at her expressionlessly, but softened a little when he saw her anxious eyes.
Of course she did. She's not stupid.
But he'd had such blind, stupid hope, when they'd only spent days together.
Lawrence got up, set the packet aside and wrapped his arms around her. She relaxed into him, and he could feel the relief in her sigh.
His breaths filtered in through her hair. She smelled like the first day he'd met her.
Oranges.
