It was the two of them in the bathroom. Eliza sat on the toilet with her panties up, and Rafe sat on the floor at her knees. His head was on her thigh, and she clutched his hair, and closed her eyes looking at the unopened pregnancy test.
She was nervous about telling him that she could be pregnant. They had always talked lightly and happily about having kids someday, but not that day. She was nervous would he be ready— she was not ready! Would he wonder if the baby was his since they had opened their relationship? It was open, but the only man that she had actually had sex with was him after she thought they were not going to be together anymore.
But it was Rafe at her feet, caressing her and letting her know he was there for her. Rafe was there when as she went to go open the pregnancy kit, and felt the unmistakable rush of her period start between her legs.
She was not pregnant, and right now she was very relieved because she was not ready to be a mother. Eliza thought of all of the things her mother had done for her, and knew she was not ready for that commitment just yet. Especially not when she had just spent her entire brunch first being afraid she was pregnant, and trying to act like she was not affected at all by seeing Oscar and Polly. She had dreaded encountering them at the auction house, but knew that she had to show face in front of Rafe and Fiona.
That was probably what made her sick.
Everything with Oscar was so intense, the way they met, falling in love with each other, him letting her go and almost making love with him despite it all after…She wandered around Paris after Shanghai to get over him. After everything it was Rafe who came to Paris for her. It was Rafe again when she was staying in the hotel after she ended it with him, and had believed that if she had left that she would not be back.
But he always came back for her, he always came looking for her. In the very beginning when they were first together and she wanted to run from him, she literally ran from him into the woods. Feeling like Sylvia Plath’s poem for her poet husband, Ted Hughes entitled “Pursuit,” she ran breathing hoarsely away from him deep into the woods.
He caught her.
“I got you, I will never let you go gypsy,” he kissed her forehead.
He used to call her a gypsy when they first got together.
Getting on his knees, he kissed her knees, and then her stomach.
“I love you,” she breathed heavily. Rafe continued to kiss her belly, her empty belly and for a moment she wished she was pregnant.
“It is still the two of us gypsy, the two of us like I always promised it would be…if it is meant to be more it will be someday…” Eliza was breathless when he said that to her because he had not called her that in a long time, it was if they were having the same memories. She looked down at his head as he continued to kiss her now trembling knees, trembling with the depth of her emotions for him.
The two of them were real.
woman dressed in gypsy costume via wikipedia
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