Page 63 of Bullied Pregnant Mate

“Let’s go for a hike,” she suggests. “Just a short one, nothing too strenuous. What do you think?”

“Sounds like a great idea,” I answer. “I’m going to find some clothes, if you want to finish breakfast first.”

“Almost done, anyway,” she says, sipping her coffee.

I hunt down my bags and find some clothes that are suitable for being out in the snow. Luckily, I went completely overboard with the shopping and have plenty of clothes to choose from—suitable for anything from hiking to a formal dinner.

What I said to Alisa was true—I barely spend my money. I should do something with it. Something that makes a difference.

Before I can think too hard about it, Alisa calls out that she’s ready to go. When I see her in tight ski pants and a big fluffy jacket, my desire for her peaks again.

“You look amazing,” I whisper, shaking my head.

“You think I look amazing no matter what I wear,” she points out with a giggle.

“It’s a theory we should test. Quick—get your clothes off right now.”

Alisa gives me a playful shove. “Then what?”

“Then I very carefully examine you for signs of hotness, and carefully contemplate how every inch of your skin looks insanely good no matter what you’re wearing.”

“Sounds boring.”

“Not to me. It sounds absolutely captivating from my perspective.”

“I’m sure it does, but what am I supposed to be doing while this is going on?”

“Drinking champagne,” I say, stroking her hair. “Eating chocolate. Maybe rubbing lotion on your skin?”

“Okay, this is starting to sound pretty sweet.”

“Do you still want to go out?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” she says, laughing. “I just need some fresh air.”

“Lead on, then.”

I follow Alisa out to the elevator, enjoying the sight of her tight butt in the snug ski pants. When we get to the lobby, a lot of employees wave at us. I wave back, a little bashfully.

I’m going to be a damn celebrity in this place if I don’t watch out.

Once we get outside, Alisa goes in the direction of the snow lifts, but turns towards the trees instead of going to the slopes. I catch up with her and take her hand, enjoying the silence of the woods and the crisp, icy air.

We walk for a short way into the woods until we come to a little clearing. Alisa sits down on a stump, looking up into the cloudy sky. I sit next to her and take her hand, and to my surprise, I sense a deep, aching loneliness within her.

“What’s wrong, my love?”

She sighs, looking away. “I don’t really want to bring it up.”

“Why? You can tell me anything.”

“I don’t know… I kind of feel like it’s already been addressed. Maybe I don’t have to say anything else.”

“Alisa,” I say, turning her towards me. “Tell me what’s wrong, please.”

She blinks slowly, and inside, I feel her walls coming down. After just thinking about how I wanted her to see right into me, as deeply into my heart as it was possible to go, it’s almost frightening that she is now doing exactly that.

Shards of pain ripple through her, images from her past pierced by ugly words and actions. As I let myself fall into her memories, I suddenly see my own face.

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