It's nearly midnight when my bedroom door swings open and I look up sleepily to see Danny standing in the doorway.
"Danny?" I mumble, shoving my hair out of my eyes. We just got back to Springfield today and I was more worn out by our Florida vacation than I thought. I was dead to the world at around nine.
Now, I'm confused by the sight of my husband standing, backlit by the hall light, taking off his tie.
"What are you doing in here?" I ask and my voice is still thick with sleep and more than a healthy dose of lust. I know exactly what he's doing here.
I can't see his face, but I can hear the smile in his voice as he says, "Well, Michelle, let's see. This is my house and you are my wife and this is your bedroom...why don't you figure it out?"
He shuts the door and the room is plunged into total darkness. I sit up, coming more and more awake.
"I know," I say weakly, "but I just...I don't know, i guess I thought our time in Florida was...was..."
He sits down on the edge of the bed and I can hear him taking off his shoes and socks. "A three night stand?" he asks wryly.
"Temporary insanity," I mutter and he laughs.
"That's all our relationship has ever been."
The mere mention of our time at the beach already had my heart pounding and I can feel that telltale warmth spread through me from the center of my legs. After our night on the boat, Danny and I were almost like honeymooners. Naturally, our nights were tame: Andrew was still sleeping between us, after all.Not many newlyweds have to work their lovemaking sessions around the schedule of a four year old child. But we still found every opportunity we could to be alone together and we took advantage of any time we had.
I hear the rustle of his shirt as he slides it off and begin inching my way to his side of the bed. Very few things are right in this marriage, but at least I know sex will never be a problem.
He's naked when he lays down beside me and easily rids me of my nightshirt.
I want to tell him something: what, I don't really know. But something. I want to talk to him, to connect with him in a way that isn't just physical.
But then he's kissing me and his hands stroking my sides and I don't care that we never speak when making love.
It's nearly three AM when we finally roll to our separate sides of the bed, breathing hard and sagging into the mattress, completely drained.
I break the silence. "Danny?"
"What?"
"I'm not on the pill or anything."
He sighs and rolls so that his back is to me. "I know that."
I roll over on my side, propping up on one elbow and staring at his back. "I could get pregnant."
"I know that too."
Frustrated, I flop over on my back and stare at the ceiling. "So what, you don't care if I have a baby or not?"
He sighs again I hear him drag a hand over his face."We're married, aren't we? Besides, Andrew could use a younger sibling."
I sit up and turn on the bedside lamp, eliciting a groan from him.
"What are you saying, Danny? Do you want me to have another baby?"
He looks over his shoulder at me. "Do you?"
"No," I say, getting out of bed and pulling a robe around me. "I don't. I'm only twenty-five years old. I'm starting back to med school next week and I don't get to spend enough time with the child I have as it is."
He rolls over on his back and studies a spot just beyond my head. "Marriage is about compromise, Michelle. You want to be a freaking neurosurgeon or something-"
" I want to be a pediatrician," I correct, but he keeps talking like I hadn't spoken.
"And I'm intent on building my own family. Where's the happy medium in that?"
I'm about to snap something in reply when what he just said finally hits me.
I stare at him in open mouthed astonishment. "Have you...Oh, my God, Danny, have you been trying to get me pregnant?"
He doesn't answer. He just sighs again as if the whole conversation is boring him and stares at the ceiling.
"You have, haven't you?"
He gets out of bed in one fluid motion, pulling his clothes back on. "Well, excuse me, Mrs. Santos, but I sure as hell didn't hear you complaining."
I laugh with disbelief even as tears of fury shimmer in my eyes. "And here I thought all of this-" I gesture to the bed- "was because you wanted me. You never wanted me, did you? You just wanted an heir and a spare."
He still doesn't answer but I can see from the way he's shoving his shirt into his slacks that he's angry. Very angry.
"Think whatever you want, Michelle."
I cross my arms tightly over my chest, fighting the impulse to bury myself in my sheets and weep. "Well, if you don't want me Danny, why don't I just leave?"
He shrugs and picks up his tie. "Fine. But Andrew stays."
"The hell he does!" I shout.
Danny looks at me with eyes that are positively arctic. "You can't take my son from me. Not only will I not allow it, but no court in the the world will let you do it."
Angry, hurt beyond words, I lash out and say the one thing I never thought I would.
"He could be Nino's son, you know."
Danny crosses the room in two strides and clutches my wrist so hard, I yelp. "He's not and you know it. One simple court-ordered paternity test would clear that up."
I'm still so furious I can hardly breathe and even though I know I should back down, I say, "Not if I took him to Bernard. You'd never get to him then."
The fingers tighten on my wrist. "Michelle," he says slowly, "if you try to take my son away from me, I'll kill you. Do you understand me?"
I blink up at him, my blood chilled. "You couldn't hurt me."
"I didn't say I want to," he says in that deceptively calm voice, "but I would. And you know I'm capable of it."
He releases my wrist and his hand goes up to tangle in my hair. "But I won't have to, will I, Michelle? You'd never claim Nino as Andrew's father. You hated him. And who can blame you, after what he did to you? Is that what you want? To tell your son that his 'father' raped you?"
I pull away from his grasp, knowing he's right. But I still feel his words before, his words about wanting only his son, deep inside me, festering like a wound, and, again, I strike to kill.
"I wish Nino was his father. I wish his father was anyone but you. Nino broke my body, yes, and I'll hate him til the day I die for that."
I turn around and face Danny. He's watching me with emotionless eyes. "But you...you broke my soul and my heart and my mind and...somehow...somehow that's just as bad. You're no better than Nino, so why shouldn't he be Andrew's father?"
Danny doesn't say a word. He just fixes me with that dark stare and then walks past me and out of the bedroom. He doesn't even slam the door.
I hear him walk down the hall to his room and again, softly close the door.
Then I hear what is undoubtedly the crystal decanter my his bed shatter with earth shaking force against his wall.