Page 21 of Every Breath

For the next few minutes, I stay on top of him, not moving. I take in his scent, of earth, sage, and sweat, the sensation of his fingers tracing circles on my back bringing me back from my stupor.

“Benny, I’m pregnant,” I whisper as the circles continue, shifting to straight lines along the center of my back, along one side of my spine all the way down my tailbone and back up.

“I know.”

I look up at his face, the light of the coming dawn filtering through a slit in the blinds. I prop my chin on my hands resting on his chest and I frown. “How on earth would you know?”

“Actually I didn’t know. But my app does,” he says and my frown deepens. What app? Then my eyes widen in surprise.

“The cycle one?”

“The PMS one, remember?” He says, smiling. “You told me that in my case, it would come in handy so I’d know when to leave you alone when your moods hit. My own personal PMS tracker. Pack My Suitcase.”

“Oh my god, Benny. That was five… six years ago. You mean that app is still going?”

“Yup. Automatic updates and all. I even rated them five stars because they kept sending me notifications.” He grins, his fingers playing with my hair now. “How do you think I know when to stay out of your way?”

I playfully hit him on the shoulder and he yelps dramatically. “Be serious, Benny.”

“I am.” He cups my face between his hands and kisses me before I can reply. “Besides, you’ve been moody the last few weeks, and you haven’t been using your, um, feminine products. At first, I thought maybe the stress of managing the agency was just throwing you off but then…”

“But then what?”

He becomes serious. “You missed your second month this week. And you taste different… before I left and today.”

I stare at him. “I what?”

He glances down. “Your pussy tastes different.”

My face burns with embarrassment at the revelation, but I’m also curious. “How on earth can you tell that I taste different down there?”

His gaze drifts down my mouth before he lifts his eyebrows knowingly. “Let’s say I’ve had twelve years of practice.”

“Are you okay with that?”

“With the new flavor?” he asks as I playfully hit him on the shoulder again. “Oh, Sarah, of course, I’m okay with it. Why wouldn’t I be?”

I sigh. “I don’t know. We should have talked about it.”

“Talked about what? Did you plan it?”

I shake my head. “Of course not. It must have happened when I had that round of antibiotics two months ago.”

“Then we’re talking about it now and I couldn’t be happier,” he says. “You?”

“I’ll be cranky again,” I say. “And you won’t have the app to tell you when to steer clear of me.”

“Like I needed that app to tell me how to handle you,” he says cockily. “But there is something we need to talk about though.”

“What?”

“Our home. We can’t do this ‘his and hers’ arrangement forever, Sarah. Even Dyami wants us all under one roof. I heard him tell his grandfather that.”

I don’t answer right away. It’s no secret I love where I live, in the same house I was raised where Nana can grow her herbs and Dyami and his cousins can ride their bikes a short distance to the park. It’s where Dad can work in the back house discussing money and investments whenever he’s in town. But as much as Benny loves to hang out there and often spends the night, I’ve never asked him if he’d like to live there with me and Dyami permanently. With my family.

“I can rent this place out,” Benny says as if reading my mind. “Daniel says it would do great as a nightly or weekly rental since it’s close to the gallery and other places. I can have someone manage the details for a fee.”

“But you like this place.”

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