No calls, no texts. Nothing. Radio silence. I pace the length of the kitchen in his shirt with the top buttons open to reveal a glimpse of my breasts in a black, cotton bra. Maybe I shouldn't have unblocked him. Maybe he’s tired. My hand finds the pocket of my shorts, a tiny jean that reveals half of my buttcheeks under his shirt, I stop in front of the fridge.A second rolls by, I open the fridge to see it has been restocked with the same brand of dark chocolate I have been binging on. These bittersweet junk must be the reason my breasts appear bigger. And sore too. I barely eat what Brandon cooks even though my appetite has largely improved but I snack on the most unhealthy items I can find.It has nothing to do with our fights, he just doesn't cook what my stomach wants. And I am too obsessed with ignoring him to request a different meal. A pang of momentary guilt hits me when my hand closes around the last batch of chocolates, I shrug it off, close the fridge

A faint voice filters into my ear, my eyelids flutter open and I am blessed with a vision of Brandon leaning over me with pouted lips. His hand stroking a side of my face freezes, he smiles when I stretch like a cat and my mouth parts wide open to release a yawn. I swipe the hair falling into my eyes, he gawks at me like I did something extraordinary. I giggle, feeling shy and my hands search for the duvet to cover my nakedness but I can't find it. One look at the bed and I see he has changed the sheet and cleaned me up. My gaze fixates on his bare chest, lowers to his biker shorts and I purse my lips. Okay, I might have overslept but it's on him. My teeth sink into my lip at the reminder of our lovemaking, fucking--whatever best describes it--and shyness creeps up on me. A brush of his fingers on my nipples, I feel them standing at attention again, wanting for more.  His head dips to my neck, he whispers against my

I am forgetting something.But, what?Trying to remember only results in a mild headache, I adjust my bag to the other hand, feet meeting the ground with purpose. The candies inside the bag cry out for me, my stomach begs me to take a bite but I push one foot in front of the other. I am famished but the image of me eating while walking is enough to banish all thoughts of hunger.Alone on my path, a passing thought hits me, if I scream for help right now, will anyone hear me? I stop and take a look around me. Flowers line each side of the lane, thick shrubs spill onto my path. The library where I am headed is about a stone throw away from me and the nearest student populated building is about a five minutes walk.Maybe I shouldn't have taken this shortcut but I was so eager to leave the class which took an extra hour. I wipe the sweat coating my forehead, pushing my legs forward.The fear is all in my head, I have taken this route more times than I can c

Dusk sets when we are at the hotel’s rooftop for our date. I throw a glance at a frowning Brandon, a smile forms on my lips, he is not exactly pleased with the delay I caused. He had to make calls, change plans and venues for our late lunch date to an early dinner.Box lamps cast soft orange glows on the floor, helping the evening sky illuminate our path. My hand slips from Brandon's, he grunts and I let out a nervous chuckle. A colony of ants march in my belly, nerves light my body as we near the low table they set for us. I tug on his arm when we reach the end of the rug, he tilts his head in my direction, still glowering and my smile vanishes. On my toes, I press my mouth to his, no kissing, no moving, a simple wordless plea. His hand slips to my back, he pulls my lip between his teeth and my legs wobble when he spanks my ass. My fingers weave into his scalp, breasts squash his chest and I kiss him hard enough to wipe the scowl off his face."Elna

Thirty minutes, he said. I will be back in thirty minutes. But it feels like hours. Long painful hours of waiting for the doctor to return with the result of the blood test. Much to Brandon's annoyance, I resume pacing and he sighs, patting the space beside him. But I ignore him. It's so easy for him to sit still and act okay but everything is not.  Another wistful peek at my phone, the door he walked into some minutes ago, I groan and run my hands over my face. There is no baby, I am just paranoid. Am I? He also explained spotting. Oh, God. The mood swings, lack of appetite and nausea. I shake my head and whimper, those could have been symptoms of another sickness. Yes, sickness. The corridor is empty, save for us. Benches line the walls, I saunter to the door. Minutes pass, I hear Brandon calling out to me, my legs carry me back to him and I offer a smile. Squatting between his legs, I sigh, his head lowers so our foreheads touch briefly