Thanks to LilMisfit5290 for her review!

Thanks to Terzima for her translation and her support

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We're now back with Carrie.
Enjoy your reading!

A New Life

Part 8

I was waiting for an answer to my message from Saul.
I had contacted him two days before. I was serene since then, feeling better in my head.

"Are you awake?"

Brody entered the bedroom, where I spent a lot of time. I was really tired and it was taxing.

"Nothing unusual," he had assured me the day before, "maybe a little iron deficiency."

I had watched him, bewildered.

"I read it in the book," he had confessed.

I remembered it with a smile. I couldn't believe he had started to get involved. I didn't know if I could hope for something more – like love for that baby, for instance. Was it possible that there was room left in his heart for the both of us? I wanted to believe it, particularly at night when I vaguely felt his hand on my stomach.

"Carrie, are you okay?"

He leaned towards me, stroking my shoulder. It ignited the flame of my desire for him once again, a desire inlaid in my flesh, catching fire at the smallest contact. He smiled tenderly, I marveled at the expression on his face.

"Oh, no, no! You're not gonna pull that trick on me every time!"

I pulled a face, caught in the act. As soon as I opened my eyes, as I saw him, as I tasted him, I only dreamed of lust, I wanted to wallow in the muck with him, hungry for his body, hungry for his soul. But it was love I was mainly looking for and in our embraces, I saw something that looked like it.

"It only happened three times!"

It wasn't my fault if I dreamed of him in a pornographic manner.

"Come on!"

He pulled me out of bed. As usual, fruit, eggs, toasts, all I wanted. I watched him start eating, noticed he had shaved his beard, his hair was short and sleek. I liked the color of his hair, I wanted the baby to be like him, exactly, boy or girl. He was faraway, lost in some thought or another. The serious look on his face enhanced the perfection of his features, albeit imperfect. A beautiful contradiction.
He helped himself again, his appetite was better, I pointed it out to him.

"I'm supportive, if you gain weight, I gain weight."

I couldn't help but react.

"You think I'm fat?"

He choked.

"Why do you always hear me wrong?" he said between two coughing fits.

"Answer my question."

"You like it too much," he frowned.
"Like what?"
"Put me in an awkward position and then on the hot seat."
"It's not true."
"Yes it is."
"Really, so when was that? When?"
"Stop being so defensive."
"Answer my question!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated, I sensed it despite my untimely anger.

"I know why you're like that," he pursued in a low voice, "you always need to have answers, to understand everything, , but you can't always have answers, sometimes there's nothing to say, nothing to understand, Carrie."

As if it would calm me down, my hand squeezed my fork convulsively. He grabbed it, forced me to let go of the fork by pressing my hand firmly, almost painfully. He made me swivel toward him, blocking both sides of the stool with his hands, compelling me to look at him by leaning so close to my face that I couldn't dodge. There was nothing but an eternal ocean of blue before me, I had no choice but dive and drown myself into it. He remained like this without a word, upholding my resentment with a straight face, slowly my tension receded.

"Okay, that's better. Now listen to me, little fool, such a fuss for a couple of unfortunate words, you'll have to learn and manage that too. I don't need to tell you that you're sexy as hell, you know it, damn it!"

A familiar heat spread through my body.

"Everything in you is perfect, everything, absolutely everything," he insisted. "So stop that!"
I didn't want to blush, I was not that kind, but the heat intensified.

"Really? Even my ears?"

I was teasing him, he saw it. All of a sudden, we were close to each other, allied, in love? One corner of his mouth rose. He moved his lips near my ear and whispered:
"I love them too, it's all that counts."

He nibbled on my ear lobe, electrifying my whole body. Before I attempted anything, he hugged me gently.

"Stop getting annoyed at everything and nothing, you're too sensitive, it's messing you up, hurting you. You've got to keep calm for your own good and the baby's."

I knew he was right. I was relieved he understood my mood swings. I put my head on his shoulder, I wanted so much to rely on him entirely, in blind trust I had never given anyone before. Was it love? Let yourself fall backwards knowing someone will catch you?

He straightened up.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

I was cold without him. He noticed my shivering, the goose bumps on my skin.

"You're cold?"

He had already rushed to the bedroom and was coming back with his sweater that I donned with pleasure, wrapped in his scent that I couldn't help but inhale although he was there with me. I got embarrassed when I crossed his impassive irises. Sometimes he was a mystery to me and it attracted me like a fly to a flame.
"When will you hear from Saul?"

"I don't know how he'll do it but it won't be long."

He nodded, pensive.
"D'you think there's a way to hear from the outside world?"

"Yes, there's always a way. I'll have a shower and then I'll go into town."

"I'm coming with you."

"No, it wouldn't be wise, someone might recognize you."

"I'm dead, it's not an issue."

"Brody," I protested, losing patience.

"I'm not letting you go by yourself."
"I'll be careful."

"No. I'm coming."

An hour later, we were in Freiburg. I knew that part of town well, I found a parking spot easily and told him to wait for me while I was buying a paper and checking if I'd gotten an answer. He acquiesced and watched me go without a word.

Still no answer from Saul.

I took a newspaper in the large bookstore where you could find papers and books in French, English and German. I skimmed the headlines in the international news section, there was nothing relevant. After I paid, I walked away, the newspaper folded under my arm, a baker boy cap pulled down on my head and hiding my hair tied into a bun, wearing sunglasses even though the sun was hardly shining. The air was cool, I pulled the flaps of my trench coat tighter around me, making my rounded belly apparent – I was about to enter my sixth month. Time was flying by, the due date was approaching, fear was growing. The heels of my boots clicked on the ground, echoing my developing stress.

I had to stop this insane dash back to Brody because something had caught my eyes. I crossed the street and stood in front of a shop window brimming with miniature mannequins wearing gorgeous clothing. There was a dress, simple at first sight but with elaborate finishes. The ginger color of the dress reminded me of autumn, but it was chiefly reminiscent of Brody.

I imagined a little Brody with flame-colored hair.

I just wanted to buy it but it was premature and a bit scary. I was so completely absorbed in the contemplation of that bountiful front window that I didn't hear him get behind me.
"What are you gazing at?"
I jumped, startled.
"Nothing, I – nothing."

He examined the window display, I was watching for his reaction. He turned his attention to me.

"You've seen something you like?"

I indicated the little dress with my chin.

"Isn't it too big?"

"Maybe they have smaller models?"

"Maybe. What about that one?"

He pointed to a dress in golden-yellow shades. I shook my head.

"Anyway, it's better to get sleepsuits," he declared.

"Sleepsuits?"

He looked at me, puzzled, then smiled.

"There's none in display. Let's go in, maybe they have some inside."

He took my hand, pulled me behind him and removed my sunglasses before we stepped in.

"Don't do too much. Plus I like seeing your eyes."

He had a knack for disturbing me when I least expected it. He put them in his jacket pocket and pushed the door that opened with a jingle. I followed him like a shadow, we were the only customers. A lady greeted us kindly, Brody answered in perfect German, started a talk, gently brushed my rounded belly with his hand, she gave me an even broader smile without noticing my embarrassment, and he expressed his request. She guided us and showed several models. I leaned to study those little pajamas with press studs.

"There are also sleep bags and buntings," he explained, showing me other models of baby clothes.

Cold shivers ran down my spine, it seemed so complicated. Not mentioning the price of those little items.

"I'll help you out, I promise."

There was much more in his words than their basic meaning. I felt like crying, right there, in that store, because he had felt how uneasy I was, because he was considerate, because he was there, quite simply. Other customers walked in, the shop assistant excused herself. He turned towards me, I tugged at his sleeve compulsively.

"How are we going to dress and feed the baby? I don't know anything about it."
"I'll take care of it all, I'll find a job, I'll take responsibility."

I blinked, stunned, no more tears, I was shocked.

"Hey, don't give me that face!" he laughed.

But I couldn't do otherwise. It was hard for me to absorb, to realize that maybe we were finally going to form a family. He slightly bent over me, sneaked me a kiss and it made my heart pound even more.

"You're important to me, you know it, don't you?"

"I do."

"It's my turn to get you out of that nightmare."
"It's not a nightmare."
He put his hand on my cheek, his thumb lightly stroked my cheekbone back and forth.

"You know what I mean."

I nodded.

"Let's go," he suggested.

In the car, he took the wheel. I placed the newspaper in the glove box.

"So what about Saul?"
"Nothing yet."
It annoyed him. After driving a few miles without a word, he started to glance at me repeatedly.

"What?"

He hesitated then went ahead.

"I'll have to work to support both of you financially, will you be able to stay home?"

"Saul will help us, you won't have to work."

"That's not my way of thinking."

"It's too dangerous, you have to lie low."

He sighed.

"All right, I can stay home and take care of the baby, I don't mind at all, but what about you? Have you considered working? I mean, once the baby's here, it'll grow up, and then? You'll have to keep busy. You think you can be a stay-at-home Mom?"

He was asking good questions, but I had no answers to give, and I was afraid – he was too, I heard it in the tone of his voice – of being unable to cope with that kind of life. I didn't know whether I'd be a good mother, whether I could stay home to raise the baby, I didn't know whether I could do another job. And being deprived of my father and sister might slowly kill me. Unless my condition makes me lose it, and leads me to hurt them both, him and the baby.

"Brody," I panicked, gripped his hand, "stop!"

He braked so hard that the safety belt hurt me. On the roadside, I rushed out of the car. I started running, frantic, my head full of atrocious images. I ran, ran, straight in front of me. I quickly lost my breath, I didn't move fast; I felt arms seizing me, stopping me in full swing. I screamed in terror.
"Carrie, Carrie, stop screaming! Calm down!"
His back was towards me, I struggled, my cap fell on the ground, my bun untied, he locked me with an efficient hold crossing my arms on my chest. I was running out of air, running out of air.

"Calm down, please," he begged.

I was running out of air, running out of air.

"Breathe. I'm here, I'm here, so breathe."

I fell on the ground, on my knees, he let himself fall with me without letting go of me. His cheek pressed against mine. He squeezed me, I wanted to get inside his body to hide there, merge with him so I wouldn't have to face all that shit, to let him deal with it for me.

"I'm sorry for all you're going through, it's my fault, I've stolen your life, forgive me."

His pain hit me, jolting me back to reality. I had no right to do that to him. I had to pull myself together. Without realizing it, I adopted his breathing rhythm – long, deep and slow. Little by little I recovered some lucidity. I looked around and noticed people were watching us.

"Oh no – "
"Come on now, let's go back to the car."

He pulled me up on my feet, I swayed a little, leaned on his extended arm. The spectators scattered as soon as I sat in the car.

OoooO

There was no word exchanged after the incident. That's how the day continued, he on one side, I in the bedroom. I slept rather well, woke up a bit groggy. I stared at the ceiling, bothered. We had done a huge step forward, I didn't want us to go backward because of my fears. I had chosen the situation I was in, and he needed to understand it. I went into the bathroom, my clothes were sweaty, I showered quickly and put on a tank top and pajama bottoms.

I found him sitting on the sofa with the newspaper in hand. There was a delicious smell of food in the room. He had cooked again, it was something I enjoyed to its true worth.

"It smells good."

I sat on the sofa too, caught his arm, put my head on his shoulder. He slowly closed the newspaper and placed it on the coffee table, near my pregnancy book.

"You want dinner?"

"No, not right now, we have to speak about what happened."

He stiffened up, I rubbed his arm softly to soothe him.

"I'm a bit more sensitive, as you said, and it's true, I see all problems bigger than they are and my reactions are excessive, but afterwards things will go back to normal, I won't be as stressed."

"That you don't know. And we'll have problems again and again."

"I'll deal with them, you know me, I'm used to it, I'm good."

He sighed.

"You scared me over there, I don't want you to get hurt because of me. I don't want you to feel prisoner of a life you haven't chosen."

"That's where you're wrong. I've made my choices and I'll stand by them."

"You had no choice."

"Of course I had a choice, I decided to keep our baby, I decided to run with you. I could have gone home without you but it would have been condemning myself to insanity."

He finally looked at me – he was like an open book sometimes – revealing his uneasiness.

"I love you too much to give you up, to live without you," I continued, "whatever sacrifices it involves, I'll never blame it on you."

He pressed his lips together in a thin line. What was he holding back?

"Let's go have dinner," I offered in answer to his silence.

After dinner, he went out a little while, I did the dishes. I took a blanket in the bedroom, went back to the sofa where I nestled to wait for him. The baby moved a lot, reminding me often it was there. It was an odd sensation, another body inside mine was taking life, having it good on me. I was exhausted, and the cramps, heartburns, night sweats, lower back pain, breathlessness, anxiety, all of this gave me a really hard time.

I stroked my belly, it wasn't that bad after all, it wouldn't last forever. I tried to picture the baby, I hoped it was okay, an ultrasound would reassure me. I had been careless all those weeks running behind Brody.

He came back with wood, went straight to the fireplace and started a fire. I watched him, his mind was elsewhere. He took off his jacket and returned into the bedroom.

"Brody?" I called.

"Be right back."

After a few minutes, he had put his sleepwear on, we went to bed early, I had adopted that rhythm, I couldn't help it and he had adopted it too. He was exhausted, and I supposed I was the reason for his exhaustion. He rested his head on the back of the couch, closed his eyes.

"Come."

He opened his eyes, I lifted the blanket, invited him on my lap with a pat. Surprisingly enough, he complied, his head found its place on my lap, his knees bent so that his legs remained fully on the couch. He closed his eyes again. I softly caressed his hair. He moved his head a little so as to be in contact with my stomach. The baby stirred, as if it felt its father was there.
I pulled the blanket over him, relishing this moment of infinite bliss.

"I've had time to think about it," I broke the silence after several minutes.

"Think about what?"

My heart started racing because it knew what I was about to say.

"You know, for the name. If it's a boy – "

"It will be a girl."

"If it's a boy," I insisted, "what do you think of Silas?"

"No way. Don't even think about it."

"Why?"

"Silas Brody? Are you serious?"

As my eyes opened wide, as my body rocked in a sea turned rough by emotion, struck by the tangibility of our future family, his shining eyes locked with mine.

"What's your idea for a girl?"

"Nicholle."

His face clouded over, disturbing the confidence I felt about my choice. He turned suddenly, stood up, pressed his back against the wall and followed it, hushing me with a finger on his lips. He pulled the curtain, stiffened. There were three knocks on the door. I jumped. Brody's face expressed a thousand different emotions.

"Saul's here."

I was stunned, paralyzed on the couch.

"You want me to open the door for him? Really?"

The harsh and jerky tone of his voice drew me back on earth. I left the couch grudgingly, suddenly drowning in stress. My hand on the door handle, I paused, from the corner of my eyes, I saw Brody stationed by the fireplace, erect like a utility pole. Three knocks resounded again.
I pulled the door open, Saul didn't even flinch. He didn't have the nerve to smile at me, his face remained expressionless as I studied him without a word.

"You plan on leaving me outside?"

"What are you doing here?"

"You contacted me, right? You need me."

"I need a doctor."

"I've arranged an appointment for you tomorrow. So now can I come in? I've traveled a long way, I'm tired."

I stepped aside to let him in, he entered our retreat and I had a sense of violation when I closed the door behind him. He took off his coat, his hat that he placed on the bar stool. He left his shoes beside our own. Only then did he turn toward Brody and greeted him with a nod. The Earth stopped spinning, I expected the worst.

More when I can. We'll stay with Carrie.