Page 234 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

I snuck a peek at the other couples. The women were of a particular type and the men were the same. It wasn’t their looks but the way they behaved. They were the type of people who frequented those parties Matt would force me to attend when we were married. Wealthy folks who thought nothing of paying a ridiculous amount of money for these private antenatal classes. Don’t get me wrong, Lucianna’s Chelsea’s home-cum-workplace was strangely welcoming in spite of the overwhelming décor. The room we were in was blessedly empty of those crazy looking plants she had littered throughout the lower floor and the painting on the wall behind us was striking. I wasn’t too sure about the background music though, it sounded like tins being banged underwater.

“If your ex-husband can’t make it,” Fiona murmured. “You can ask your sponsor to attend. You were referred by Bella Walthamstow, yes?”

My fingers froze and she twisted her head to give me an uncertain smile. “I hope you don’t think that was rude of me,” she said. “We all know who you are. Lucianna always notifies her private group members of any newcomers and we usually run in the same social circles anyway.”

I wanted the floor to swallow me up whole.

“Your picture had been in the papers,” she continued to explain. “And whodoesn’tknow the Bradleys? No one worth knowing that’s who.”

I just wanted her to stop talking.

“We’re all friends here,” she said without the tiniest hint of patronizing contempt. “Please don’t feel uncomfortable. It’s perfectly fine. Diana and Henry were both divorced before they got together and look at them now, happy with a baby on the way. He has a child from his previous marriage but that’s neither here nor there.”

I looked across the room as instructed and added more pressure via my fingers. Fiona winced. Liam would call her a ‘gobby little shite’. Why was she talking their business? Shit. They had probably all enjoyed a good little chinwag about Matt and me. How utterly embarrassing. The next 10 minutes I focused on letting my fingers do the talking instead of my mouth. No way was I getting into a conversation with her. What if I blabbed my own business out? Sometimes my mouth had a mind of its own. And where in the hell was Matt? He was supposed to be my ride home today. Callum had driven me here and would be outside waiting, but Matt had offered to take me home after the class.

The door opened and Lucianna’s assistant ushered in a portly dude with the sternest pair of spectacles I had ever seen. He looked as if he’d just walked off a movie set, a movie about round teachers with weird moustaches. Urgh. Why have a moustache without a beard? It seemed strange to me.

“Darling,” Fiona gushed, pulling away from me as her hubby hurried over to us.

Yeah, they were all frigging married and wearing massive rocks and bands.

I chewed my lip, knowing Fiona would dump me now her husband had arrived. Huh, she had already forgotten about me and my magic fingers. I saw her blissfully closed eyes, she’d been enjoying the massage.

Sighing softly I sat back on my heels then started blushing when Matt breezed past the assistant and headed towards me. He gave Lucianna a half-wave, smiled in recognition with two of the other men, and finally came to a stop next to me. Fiona had already returned to her mat and was bringing her husband up to speed while he began rubbing her shoulders. Massage floozy. She ditched me like an old, smelly sock without its matching side.

“Hi,” I squeaked out nervously, head tilted up at Matt.

“Hello,” He smiled and knelt down next to me.

I worried he would crinkle his suit. “Traffic held you up?”

Matt stretched his fingers before settling behind me. “A finance meeting ran longer than expected. What have I missed so far?”

“Nothing you don’t already know.” I replied, tensing up as his hand landed on my shoulders. I lowered my voice to a whisper, “Lucianna seems nice.”

Matt, feeling the sudden tension in my shoulders, began a light massage as he leaned forward to get closer to my ear. “Bella recommended her. Did you have trouble getting here?”

I shook my head then shivered as Matt’s fingers grew bolder. He had always been good at giving back massages. Biting my tongue to stop the moan, I relaxed under his hands while Lucianna waffled on about different massage techniques.

“Is this too hard?” he asked, kneading his thumbs between my shoulder blades.

“No, it’s good.” I admitted.

“Makes up for me being late for our first class?” he teased softly. “Things are hectic in the office.”

“I know.” I murmured back.

Things might have been hectic at his work, but they were downright awkward between us. We weren’t a proper couple and hadn’t really discussed the snogging incident from last week. I also continued to harbour some residual anger over the memory box debacle.

This was the first time seeing each other since then and I was glad we weren’t alone. We had spoken every day in between though. Mattwould call at random times during the day to check up on me and the bump. There hadn’t been any further admission of love on his part, and I was reluctant to admit my own feelings. The lucid dreams of us together were bad enough.

“We will now move on to the different labour and birth positions,” Lucianna’s suggestion was met with a few groans from the other couples.

I twisted my head to catch Matt’s gaze. He looked as uneasy as I did. Birth positions? I remained undecided about my actual labour. The thought of getting sliced…ow…add the recovery time of a C-section…but I was also unsure about a natural birth. My research confirmed it was possible to have a natural birth with twins, as long as the first baby out wasn’t breeched, it would be doable. Would my vagina be up to it? That was the million dollar question. Those warnings and pictures I had seen about vaginal tears were scary. Maybe I could join the ‘too posh to push’ brigade, except I wasn’t posh and the slicing thing…yeah, not happening. Time was not my friend though, I couldn’t put off the decision forever. Vaginal delivery could possibly damage my pelvic floor which would in turn fuck with my core strength. Then there was the damage to my abdominal walls if I had a c-section. My muscles were already under siege of softening by hormone fluctuations. I was screwed either way.

“I don’t want to do this.” I grumbled to Matt very quietly in case the others heard. I didn’t see the point of it to be honest, my pregnancy books and the internet gave me all the relevant information.

“Nathan and Bella said it was-”

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