96

Allison
After that night, we fall into a comfortable rhythm.
Gregory’s almost never home. There’s always a guard on the front door and another lurking in a car out front, but they rarely speak to me. When I go for a run, the car’s following as close as it can. I stick to main streets where it’s easier for them to keep close tabs.
Orin’s always in the house. He’s busy, constantly running errands for Gregory, but available whenever I need something. Which isn’t very often-as it turns out, being Gregory’s wife in the middle of a war for the marijuana trade on the West Coast is actually kind of boring.
I sleep in most mornings. I don’t even notice Gregory getting into bed at night, and he sneaks out before I’m up. We run into each other like strangers passing in a darkened alley, wary and uncertain. The memory of that sex still lingers, lighting me up whenever I need something to think about in the loneliness of having nothing to do and nowhere to go, but the intimacy we felt fades away.
“What’s he doing all day?” I ask Orin about three weeks into my marriage. By now I’ve redecorated the house twice, just to have something to do. Currently, it’s beach-chic with lots of driftwood and seashell motifs. Still a theme, but not as obscenely over the top.
“Working,” Orin says with a shrug. “Got any threes?”
“Go fish.” He grunts at the card he picks up. “Seriously, what’s working? When we started this, he made it sound like he needed my expertise.”
“I shouldn’t say.”
I look at my card, barely paying attention to the game. “Got any kings?”
“Rats.” He gives me one.
“But you know, that means he’s doing something. Come on, I barely see the guy anymore. What’s going down?”
He hesitates and looks around before leaning in. “He keeps trying to buy the competition, but nobody wants to sell. He’s busy all the time because they keep stringing him along.”
“That’s it? Why don’t you tell him I can help?”
“Tell him yourself. Got any eights?”
I toss one to him. “As if I see the guy.”
“Don’t you share a bed with him?”
“I swear he waits until I’m asleep before he comes home. I think he developed an allergy to me.”
Orin laughs once and shakes his head. “I doubt that. I’ve never seen Gregory so interested in a person before. He definitely likes you.”
A strange little thrill runs into my guts. “He likes me likes me?” I waggle my eyebrows, grinning.
“Don’t be childish,” Orin says, raising his chin. He lays down four eights. “I’m good at this game.”
“I’m just tired of sitting around, that’s all. Tell Gregory his wife is feeling a little lonely and ignored.”
“I’m sure he’ll care.” Orin gives me a look.
I flip him off. “Got any fours?”
“Go fish.”
Another couple weeks pass. I have at most five conversations with Gregory in all that time, partially because he travels back to Boston twice. I keep thinking about that first night-not just about the sex, but what he said before it, about getting too close to each other. Part of me thinks that’s why he’s doing this, and it isn’t only because he’s busy. He’s avoiding me on purpose, and I should be okay with it, since I’m aware that getting more attached to him than necessary is a really bad idea.
But I find myself wishing he’d come home earlier, at least so we can talk a little before going to sleep.
When he’s out of the state, security at the house goes through the roof-multiple guards, soldiers all down the block, like he’s expecting a small militia to invade. It makes me feel a little less lonely, since some of the guys are friendly. When I ask Orin about all the muscle, he only shrugs, like he doesn’t know what Gregory’s thinking.
Nobody ever seems to know, or at least they won’t tell me.
Things finally change when I wake up feeling queasy one morning. It’s a regular day, and my big plans involve a five-mile run and a ton of online shopping, but I feel off the moment I get out of bed. I head downstairs and Orin frets over me. “Want some breakfast?” he asks.
“Just coffee,” I say, curling up at the table near the window.
Orin frowns. “You okay?”
“Stomach is off. I’ll be fine though.”
“You drank too much?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t had anything to drink in weeks.”
“Huh, that’s right. I forgot you were boring.”
“Hey now, that’s a low blow. I don’t need alcohol to be the life of the party.”
“Sure you don’t.” He comes back with light tan coffee and a dash of sugar. “Seriously, if you’re not feeling good, go back to bed.”
“Not like I have anything else to do,” I mumble.
Orin pats my shoulder and goes back to doing whatever the heck he does when he’s not making pithy comments at my expense and getting me things.
It takes a few hours before I realize my period’s a week late.
And another half hour before I connect the two things.
Which sets me into panic mode.
I lock myself in the games room and pace back and forth, rolling pool balls down the felt and back again, slamming them around. All the motion and clacking helps me process as I try to do the math, thinking about the last times I had sex with Gregory.
We didn’t use protection, which in retrospect is probably the stupidest thing I could’ve ever done with my life, but there’s no changing it now.
I try to tell myself everything’s going to be just fine, except it’s not.
I grab my things, thrown on a pair of big sunglasses, and head to the front door.
Only to be intercepted by Orin. “Where are you going looking like you’re trying to hide?” he asks as I pause with my hand on the knob.
“Out,” I say, lifting my chin. “Uh-”
His frown deepens. “If you have any errands you need me to run, I’d be happy to do it for you.”
“No, no, that’s not it, it’s just-”
“Because you know Gregory wants you to stay in the house as much as possible.”
“It’d be nice if he told me that.”
“Come on. He’s away in Boston, which means a ton of extra manpower watching over you. Which means if you go anywhere, that’s a ton of extra guys on your tail. That’s more overtime, more payroll-”
“I get it, I need to worry about paying his soldiers just so I can go out and buy some freaking tampons.”
Orin softens. “If that’s what you need, it’s no problem. I have two sisters.”
“Really?” I grimace slightly. “But that’s not really it. My period’s late.”
I regret it immediately. I should’ve kept that stupid comment to myself, but I just blurted it out instead. Orin stares at me like he doesn’t really understand yet, then suddenly it visibly clicks. He covers his mouth with both hands as his eyes go wide.
“No,” he whispers. “You’re not.”
“Will you stop it?” I get away from the door, cursing myself for being such an idiot, and steer him into a side hallway. “Be quiet, okay? I don’t know if I am or not. I need some tests.”
“Allison, this is crazy! You haven’t, uh, you know-”
I punch him in the arm. Hard. “Don’t be a massive fucking dick right now. No, I haven’t slept with anyone else.”
“Okay, okay, geez.” He rubs the spot I punched, but doesn’t seem upset. He must actually have sisters. “I’ll get you some tests. Discreetly.”
“Thank you.” I’m totally mortified, but kind of relieved that Orin’s in on the secret now. Before it was like the weight of all this was crushing me. Now I can share it with him a little bit.
“I’ll be back in a little while. You just, uh, wait.”
“And try not to like smoke crack or something? Yeah, I can handle that.”
He looks a little aggrieved as he hurries away.
I wait out back in the shade for him to return. It’s the longest half hour of my life-I keep thinking about what I’m going to do if I’m actually pregnant with Gregory’s baby. Obviously, I can’t have it. But I also don’t want to get an abortion. Keeping the baby is out of the question, but not keeping the baby is even worse. It’s like I’m being crushed by a slowly closing trash compactor with two equally horrific decisions on either side, and no matter which way I choose to turn I’ll be crushed into pulp.
Orin returns with the tests. “I’ll sit with you,” he says.
“Uh, no, you won’t. I have to pee on them, remember?”
He hesitates. “Right. Good point. I’ll be down here, waiting.”
I grab the bag and hurry up to the bathroom.
Four big glasses of water and four tests later, I have my results.