Page 25 of Beneath Her Skin

3

MY BABY

After the walk-through of the house and a very needed nap, I wake up and it’s dark out. Stretching out my arms I focus on the note and a deli sandwich from my husband:

I didn't want to wake you, but needed to take care of something at the campus. Also picked up some groceries and your favorite sandwich. Enjoy.

I put the note back down and grab the silver container, my mouth watering. I'm so hungry, my mouth feels disgusting from the taste of nothing, and I decide that I need to eat. Opening the container, I grab one half of the white bread roll and look at the maple ham, lettuce, cucumber, bacon, and avocado. Everything I love. I go for a bite, then another, before the urge to purge rocks my stomach. With the bite mid-chew, I nearly tear up as I force myself to swallow and take another bite. Even though I know it won’t last, the nausea wave hits me, and I place the container back on the wicker nightstand. I get up, holding my hand to my mouth as I run to the master bathroom in our room. All white tiles and gold accents, just like I’ve dreamed of. I expel my stomach contents on the toilet when the sounds of moans fillthe air, my hand resting on the toilet lid. I listen in to make sure what I’m hearing is not just my mind. The moans grow louder, and the sound of skin slapping follows. Slowly, I rise to my feet. Using the back of my hand, I wipe my mouth and slowly walk out of the bathroom. The air in the house feels colder, like it dropped in temperature, causing my nipples to harden under the fabric of Rey’s white T-shirt. I continue my way out of the room, following the obscene sounds that lead to the office. My heart sinks, my hand hovers over the doorknob, and the sounds grow louder, almost animalistic. Tears sting my eyes. Rey wouldn’t do this to me. He loves me, I remind myself, as I take the doorknob into my hand and turn it, opening the door.

Nothing.

The window is open, filtering cold night air into the space, making it ten times cooler than the rest of the house, wrapping my arms around me, resting it slightly on my stomach. I move into the room to close the window, when the door slams shut behind me, startling me as I close the window. It must be the wind, I say, but then I hear whimpers and sounds of skin slapping.

"What the fuck?" I whisper as I walk towards the door and open it abruptly to an empty hall. My heart drums in my chest because I’m certain I’m losing my mind and having a psychosis breakdown, or maybe a panic attack. I speed walk towards my room and the nightstand where I left my cellphone. My hand tightens around the doorknob, but when I turn it, the door won’t budge.

"What the—" I continue to turn the knob, throwing my weight at the door. Nothing. I continue to do this when I hear the sound of footsteps leading up the stairs, stopping right before the hallway that turns to this wing of the house. The sound of something rolling catches my attention, and I scream when the baby toy meets my feet.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD," I scream, trying to make my way inside the room. This is a dream, and I need to wake the fuck up, and just as the steps get closer, the door swings open, causing me to fall on my side.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The footsteps grow louder, and I scramble backward. When a shadow appears on the doorsteps, I go to scream, and a strong familiar hand wraps around me.

"Amor, are you okay?" Rey tries to help me stand, my eyes widening. Confusion takes hold of me.

"You," I try to speak. "You’re home?"

"Of course I am," he says smoothly as he pulls me into him. "Did you fall?"

"But the sandwich and the note."

"Shh..." he coos as he rocks me. "Shh. I'm here now."

After a few minutes, Rey finally takes me to bed. After tossing and turning for a while, I finally find sleep, snuggled up in my husband's arms. The warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing somehow lull me into a fragile peace. My body relaxes, and the overwhelming fear starts to fade, swallowed by the darkness of sleep.

Days later...

"You have to try to get out of your head, Serena," my mother says on the other side of the phone as I organize the baby items in what’s going to be the nursery.

"Isn't this what I'm trying to do?" I let out a sigh as my eyes catch a glimpse of what looks like a loose board on the nursery floor. The room was already painted a light, almost sage greencolor, and it matches the gender-neutral things I’ve been buying for our daughter.

"I don’t know. Rey says that your nightmares have gotten worse," she takes a dramatic pause. "And honey, he told me about the first day at the house. He said you were on the ground, petrified."

I don’t know whether to be mad at her or mad at him for disclosing all this to my mother, but I know he means well. And as much as she annoys me, I also know she means well. But fuck—did she always have to say the wrong things? Her mind is outdated. She doesn’t think like a modern woman; even for her age, my mother thinks like a woman cut out of a conservative wife magazine. And as much as I love her, we don’t want the same things in life. I don’t think there was ever a time before Rey when I ever wanted to have kids or marriage.

"You know, Mom, I’ll call you later. I want to finish up here."

"Serena, you just gotta focus on the good things."

The good things. The words hit me like a bucket of ice water. I look out the window for a moment when something in the fields catches my eye. A figure of a woman stands in the fields, a white nightgown, but between the distance and the sun glare, I can't make her face out.

"Mom, I have to go," I say before ending the call and placing my phone on the pile of moving boxes. Quickly, I head out of the room and down the stairs. Why? I'm not sure. But what if she needs help? This house is pretty isolated, besides Josh, who works the grounds. Speaking of which, I haven't seen much of him around, but I always get fresh lavender bouquets left on the doorstep ever since moving here. I’m sure it’s not Rey, but I’m not sure what to think of a random man leaving flowers at the door.

Once I open the front door, the woman turns away before I can see her face. The sun is high in the sky.

"Hey, are you okay?" I call out from the front door, noticing I wasn’t wearing any shoes. But she doesn’t reply. Instead, she turns away from me and heads into the fields.

"Hey," I say as I walk onto the porch, but she doesn’t stop. Her figure grows smaller as she disappears into the fields. What if she needs help or is lost? Fuck.

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