Sing

CHAPTER 39.

MONICA

There were doctors and nurses everywhere. Clean white sheets and sage scrubs. Trays of uneaten food and plastic detritus in soothing, meaningless colors. The lights pinpoint and dull as if this would help him sleep with the human traffic in the room.

The doctor wasn’t much older than I was, but I knew her from the way she asked questions instead of answered them.

“Hi,” I said.

“You’re the wife?”

The title still hit me like a bag of flour.

“Yeah. I’d like, I don’t know. Time. A little.”

“You got it.”

She hustled everyone out, and it was just me and him. He looked like someone had painted him white. If I thought it was hard to see him after his disastrous operation, well, this was worse. This was where it came down to me accepting that this was what it was, or me living in a fucking illusion.

“Good evening, sir,” I said.

“Get over here.” His voice was no better than a whisper breaking through a stone wall. There was effort in it, as if he carried me uphill. I put my elbows on either side of his head and touched my nose to his.

“Jonathan, I...”

“You look beautiful.”

“You made me so happy. I wanted to tell you that.”

“I played with you in the beginning. And I wasted too much time lying to you.”

“That’s over now.”

“Actually...”

He paused, and I knew why.

“You’re kidding,” said.

“The night of the Eclipse show, when I went to Jessica’s...”

“La la la I don’t hear you.”

“There was more than kissing.”

I let my neck release the weight of my head, dropping it until my forehead was on his shoulder. “Go ahead,” I said.

“Second base.”

From his reaction, the way he stroked my arm and nuzzled my hair, he must have thought my shaking shoulders and hitched breaths were signs that I was crying. But when I picked my head back up and he saw that I was laughing, he smiled.

“So it’s okay?” he asked.

“Yes, it’s okay. Is there anything else? I mean, seriously. Something that matters?”

“No. But my brain’s not working very well. So something might come up later.”

I put my cheek to his, because he spoke about later as if it was going to happen. He felt cold against me already.

“You never told me about our wedding night,” he said. “I carry you into our house over my shoulder.”

I bite my lip. He doesn’t want sad. He wants to have a life in his mind. I could give that to him.

“I’m laughing, because Lil can see us, and the whole caveman thing is hilarious. I know you have something planned, but I have no idea what. The house is on a hill in Beechwood Canyon. Can we do Beechwood Canyon?”

“For the sake of this conversation.”

“It’s a modernist masterpiece in the hills, with walls of windows looking over the city. You close the door behind us, and carry me through the dark house, out to the backyard. It’s lit with tea lights and the pool has lights in it. Everything shimmers like it’s under water. You get me to my feet, and say, ‘Take your hair down.’”

I raise my arms to pull a hundred pins and braids out of my hair. My arms are out of the way, and you use the opening to kiss my cheek, my neck. Your hands follow, landing on my collarbone. You drag your thumb across it, and down. You find the zipper to my wedding dress on the side, and pull it. I’m still not done with my hair. I admit I’m going super slow, but it’s starting to fall out of its arrangement. You pull the dress down until it pools at my feet. Your hands find the edges of my underwear. It’s all straps and rings. My hair falls totally. You step back and look at me. I feel beautiful. You’ve made me feel like that all day, looking at me like that in your black tux. I say, ‘What do you want, sir?’ And you say—”

“I say this,” he interrupts, even with his rasp of a voice, I stop. “I say, ‘tomorrow I’m going to destroy you. I’m going to mark your body and ruin your mind. By noon, you won’t know whether to laugh or cry. But tonight? Tonight, I will revere you. I will build an altar of myself. I will frame you in stars.’”

“God, you make me crazy when you talk like that.”

“There’s a blanket on the grass. I lead you to it. You lie down.”

“The night is clear. The stars are out.”

“My lips on your body trace the story of my love.”

My eyelashes fluttered on his cheek. “I try to touch you, but you won’t let me. God, you’re still in that tuxedo.”

“I took it off.”

“When?”

“When I say, Goddess.”

I sighed, going with him. He was naked. “You’re perfect. Shaped for me.”

He swallowed thickly. “I kiss your ankles. Pull your legs apart. I draw a map to your sex with my tongue. I feel overtaken. In my guts, I need to yank you, pound you with my dick, make you scream and beg. But I hold back. Kiss behind your knees. I control myself for you.”

“I want you, you’re all I can think about.”

“I’m losing steam.”

His eyes filling my visions, red rims and pale skin, soaked in exhaustion, he needed me to create this for him, for us. I took a deep breath and kissed his cheek, letting my lips linger on him. “Your lips inside my thighs. Your tongue finding its way to me. You kiss my clit. You finger my nipples. You’re touching me just enough to drive me crazy. Your mouth works between my legs. Sucking and twitching. I arch my back. I’m so close when you stop. And you know it too. You pull me to you. We kiss. I taste my pussy on you.”

“Wait.”

“What?”

“I turn you around. We’re both on our knees. Your back is against me. I push you up, spread you. I put my dick in you and you push down.”

“You’re so hard. And I’m so wet. And it’s so easy isn’t it? Wasn’t it always so easy for you to put your cock in me? Like you were meant to be there.”

“I pull your head back, until you’re looking at the sky. Hold your face up. My hand is on your throat.”

“Your other hand slips between my legs. You touch where we’re joined.”

“I look at the stars with you.”

“I move with you. I’m safe under the sky. I feel you everywhere on me. I’m filled with you. I tell you I’m coming.”

“I say, ‘yes.’”

We stayed silent for a minute, deeply joined, as if he were inside me, expanding together, into each other, fully unified, merged, consciousness where our bodies should have been.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“Please stay with me.”

I didn’t answer for a long time, I just kept my face buried in his neck and listened to his breathing. At some point, I was going to have to leave and meet with Declan. If not to get the whens and wherefores, then to kick his ass for not holding up his end of the deal, but how could I?

“Your family’s going to want to see you,” I said.

“You ever want sisters?” he asked.

“Always.”

“You’re welcome.”

I laughed. He smiled. “They’re outside. I’m going to take care of some business and come back, okay?”

“Stay.”

I kissed his cheek. It felt warmer than it did before our pretend wedding night, and I lingered there.

“I’ll be back.”

“Stay.”

“I can’t. I promise—“

“Stay.”

I backed up and let his hand slip from mine.