My Fake Husband Chapter 8
A Pitch Perfect Story
Chapter 8
Disclaimer: I do not own anything familiar.
Song Recommendation: All About You by Bruno Mars
Author's Note: So, my computer screen went bye-bye right in the middle of studying for the major exam I wrote about at the end of last chapter on Friday. Thankfully, I'm smart, so I was able to do really well on the exam without studying much. (I'm not trying to be full of myself by saying that; I am actually really freaking excited that it turned out that way, because I really didn't want to have to take the exam over again, because I can't start my internship actually counseling families without passing this exam.) Anyways, I had to work on this chapter when I could by emailing it to myself and stealing my parents' computer when I could. I hope you like this chapter.
After the reception ended and they were finally allowed to leave their guests to start their 'honeymoon,' Beca and Jesse made their way back to their hotel room—the one with the Jacuzzi big enough for two and the big king-sized bed. Amy, in front of everyone, said that Beca should use her "presents" from the other girls. Beca flipped her off, because really that isn't cool after she knew about the incident, and refused to look at Jesse, who was getting suggestive looks and gestures from Unicycle and Bumper. The two of them stopped at the doorway to their hotel room. "So, should I carry you over the threshold?" He joked, and she glared at him, using her keycard to open the door to the hotel room. He sighed loudly, grabbing her in his arms and carried her into the hotel room, despite her grunts of disproval. He walked her over to the bed and dropped her on it. "I'm gonna go get a shower." He walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Beca sighed, taking advantage of his leaving the room to change out of her dress. She stood up, walking over to where she had left her suitcase in the corner of the room, beside the arm chair in the room. She took a few minutes to dig through her suitcase, trying to find a clean pair of shorts and a tank top to wear to bed. Before they left for their honeymoon, they should really go find a Laundromat to wash their clothes, because she was running low on the clothes she had brought with her. Once she found the clothes she was looking for, she set them down on the chair beside her. She reached behind her to pull at the zipper of her dress. When she had unzipped it, she pulled the straps down her shoulders, leaving her in a pair of white lace underwear. She reached for the tank top, pulling it on. The door to the bathroom opened just after she pulled the shirt on; she didn't have time to grab the shorts.
"Shit, sorry." Jesse said after she jumped. Beca shrugged her shoulders, bending over to pull the shorts on. She turned to see that he was dressed similarly to her, in the white wife-beater he had worn beneath his suit and his boxer shorts, and his hair was unkempt from being wet. She kept her eyes trained on his face as she walked towards the bathroom.
"I'm just gonna go brush my teeth." She whispered, and he stepped out of the way, letting her enter the bathroom. After brushing her teeth and washing the makeup from her face, she walked back into the room to see that he was lounging on the left side of the bed with his laptop in his lap. "You're on my side." He rolled his eyes, sliding over to the right side. "What are you doing on there?"
"I'm on Facebook."
"You realize, people think that we are having sex right now, right? You can't go on Facebook."
"I was kidding. I was setting up a movie." He told her, looking at her. She rolled her eyes at him, climbing into the bed beside him.
"What are we watching?" She asked, sliding closer to him to see the computer screen.
"Porn. Bumper gave it to me, to spice up our honeymoon." She laughed when she saw that he was telling the truth.
"What the hell? Is this BDSM-themed?" She asked when she saw what the girl was wearing (or rather, what little she was wearing).
"I think it is supposed to go with your toys." He said, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. "What kind of toys did they give you?"
"Oh, you know…handcuffs, a collar, a paddle, a vibrator…the whole nine yards."
"Fun…" He laughed.
"We're not watching this."
"Why not? Are you afraid for me to see your kinky-side, Beca?"
"No, because this stuff grosses me out. Why can't it be a normal, horny housewife and the cable repairman bit?"
"I'm sure we could find one on Netflix." Jesse said, closing out of the video player without even starting the movie.
"Oh, good!" Beca joked. He logged into his Netflix account, and she stopped him before he could actually look for porn that matched her specifications. "No, stop! Can't we watch something else? I'm willing to watch whatever bullshit movie you want to put on right now."
"Fine, love story it is." She groaned, making him chuckle. "When Harry Met Sally?" She shrugged, not knowing what movie it was. He sighed, because she didn't recognize the movie title. As he got the movie ready, she contemplated talking to him about his vows earlier, asking him which movie he stole some of those lines from. But, the movie started playing, and she decided against it. She settled back into the pillows, resting her head on his shoulder to better see the screen from where the laptop was positioned on his lap. This was one of the few movies that they had watched over the last few months that she actually liked, but she wondered why he chose a movie about how two characters, a man and woman, debated throughout the entire movie whether or not women and men could remain friends without letting sex or love interfere; in the end, the movie proved that it wasn't possible, and that didn't sit well with her.
As the credits began to play, Beca decided to pretend to sleep in order to be sure that Jesse wouldn't try to ask her what she thought about the movie. She didn't want to talk about it, because she didn't want to talk about how this movie paralleled their lives slightly—they were trying to be friends, not letting the incident affect that friendship. She felt his eyes on her face, but she kept her eyes closed and her breathing even. She heard him close the laptop, shifting slightly so that her head fell onto the pillow and off of his shoulders. As he leaned over the bed to put the laptop down on the floor, she rolled over onto her side, facing away from him. She felt the bed shift as he returned to his other position. "Goodnight, Beca," Jesse whispered into Beca's ear. She tried not to squeak in surprise when she felt him curl around her under the blankets, tucking an arm around her waist. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, and her eyes flew open, because every time they have shared a bed over the last week, they were careful to leave a lot of space between the two of them. This time, he was very close to her, and it was a little much. But, he was warm, and she could smell soap and the minty scent of his toothpaste (and something else that was most definitely him), so she just laid there, allowing him to tuck her more fully against his chest and to tighten his hold on her waist.
The next time that Beca saw Cole, it was about two weeks after her honeymoon. She knew Chloe well enough after all these years, so she knew the redhead would stop by the condo randomly to see how in love Jesse and she were or to hear again about the honeymoon in Quebec City or to see the pictures, et cetera. So, she didn't get a chance to go out to see Cole for some time. Finally, she scheduled a date with him, a Saturday afternoon lunch date. She met him for dinner at a small diner that she was sure Chloe, Jessica, Stacie, and Amy, or any of Jesse's friends that resided in the LA area, would go to. She smiled at him as she walked through the door, sitting down at his table after pointing him out to a waitress who offered to show her to a booth. They leaned across the table to press a quick kiss to each other's lips, which was all she would allow, claiming that she wasn't a fan of public displays of affection. In reality, it was so she could protect herself, Cole, and Jesse in the event that someone who knew her and Jesse would come across her and Cole.
They ordered their drinks and food from a nice waitress named Tammy, who talked about her kids the entire time she was at their table, saying that her daughter looked almost exactly like Beca, with all of her tattoos and piercings. After they paid their bill and were getting their stuff together to leave, her blood ran cold when she heard, "Oh, my God! Beca, is that you?" She turned around quickly from where she was standing by the table while Cole was pocketing his wallet, and she found herself being pulled into the arms of Chloe's friend, Ella, the non-Bella bridesmaid from Chloe's wedding. "It is you! You look beautiful."
"Thank you." Beca hugged Ella quickly, tucking her left hand behind her back, because, shit, she wasn't wearing her rings. They were in her purse. "How are you, Ella?"
"I'm great! I saw all the pictures from the wedding and the bachelorette party that Chloe posted on Facebook. You looked gorgeous in your dress, by the way. You and Jesse looked totally adorable." Cole took a couple of steps forward, smiling down at Beca. "Oh, hi! I'm sorry to interrupt your meal." Ella said, smiling, apparently oblivious to the relationship between Beca and Cole. "Are you one of Beca's clients?"
"We're done! Don't worry, Ella." Beca said quickly, speaking before Cole could respond. "Listen, it was great running into you; you, Chloe, and I should all get dinner soon." Ella nodded her head, grinning.
"I would love that." She gave Beca another hug. "I can't wait to hear all about your trip to...Quebec, right? Give my love to Jesse." She leaned over towards Beca, pretending to tell her a secret behind her hand. "I don't know if he told you, but I totally hit on him at Chloe's wedding, because, my God, that boy is fine, but he said he had a girlfriend. I thought it was a nice way of shooting me down, but now I totally understand, because you can tell from all the pictures Chloe posted, he only has eyes for you." Ella waved and wondered off towards a table in the back.
Beca froze, because while she never directly said that Jesse was her husband or that they were together in any capacity at all, but Ella did out Beca's "my roommate Jesse" as a male and not a female, as well as implied that he liked Beca as more than a friend does, and talked about her trip to Canada with him. "What the fuck?" Cole said, and she closed her eyes, turning around.
"I can explain. Before you say anything, let me explain."
"What is there to explain? You liked about Jessie, or rather, Jesse the guy, your roommate. So, what you are living with some guy and decided that you wanted to have some fun with someone else? I mean, you and I never even had sex, so I don't even get the cheating."
"It's not cheating!" She paused. "Well, it is sort of-in the eyes of the law, but not in real life."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She sighed, sticking her hand into her purse and pulling out the rings. She quickly slid them onto her finger.
"Jesse is a friend of mine. He was born in Canada—Quebec City. His work visa ran up, so I married him so that he can stay in the states. The vacation my roommate and I went on was actually what was supposed to be our honeymoon. No one knows but me, Jesse, and two of our friends that this isn't real between us." She said quietly, looking around to make sure that no one could overhear them.
"So, I was your boyfriend, who you're cheating on with your fake husband, but I'm the dirty little secret that no one else can know about? That's bullshit, Beca."
"You're my boyfriend?" She said, shocked. They never talked about that. They had only been dating for like a month and a half, so she didn't realize that meant exclusivity and labels.
"I thought I was. Also, past tense, not present tense. I'm done. I'm done with you. I'm done with this bullshit drama. I don't need it. I'm thirty years old. I want to start looking for someone to commit to and maybe marry, not someone who has committed to someone else-is married to someone else." He stormed past her, and she rushed to keep up with him. They left the diner, and she grabbed him by the arm, stopping him.
"Wait, Cole..." He turned to look at her, and she knew that the words that were going to leave her mouth next were going to hurt him. Nothing would be solved between her and Cole as long as she and Jesse were married, and they weren't getting divorced anytime soon. Besides, she hadn't been aware that they were a couple; she thought that they were just hanging out—a couple of heated make out sessions in his car at the end of a date didn't really qualify as a relationship to her. She had fun with Cole, but she didn't think she felt anything more that for him; she didn't really see him as a boyfriend or potential romantic partner. So, this was going to be the end of them. He looked hopeful, though. This is going to be hard. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "I just…please don't tell anyone." He smiled, but it was tight and cold; he shook his head.
"Yeah, don't worry. I will keep your precious secret." She watched as he stormed to his car, getting in and slamming the door behind him. He started it up, backing out of the space, pulling out of the parking lot and out of her life forever.
Twenty minutes later, Beca walked through the door of her condo, feeling miserable, because she hated hurting Cole, and she also lost her outlet—her ability to have fun and forget about all the drama that comes with being married to someone that she was not in love with. "Yes, Mr. Danielson, I understand that these things take time, but, sir…" She heard Jesse on the phone; the name sounded familiar, and she assumed that it was his immigration agent. "Sir, my wife and I were talking about marriage, but we weren't actually planning on getting married as soon as we did, but after finding out that my visa couldn't be renewed, we decided to move everything up." He waited, listening to the other person on the line, and she walked into the living room, dropping onto the couch, watching him as he paced around the living room. He sat down on the couch beside her, sighing quietly to himself, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Please, Mr. Danielson, isn't there anyway that you could put my file to the top of the pile? Beca and I just want to get this interview out of the way and just go back to spending our lives together, not worrying about whether or not I will be sent back to Canada before we even get a chance for an interview."
Beca rested her head against Jesse's shoulder, absentmindedly running her fingers along his stomach. She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing and the faint sounds of the other man talking on the phone. She felt him shift when she hit a particularly ticklish spot on his stomach, making her giggle. "Mr. Danielson, I know you are just doing your job. I'm sorry to pressure you, but…" He looked down at her, glaring, when she purposely stroked the spot that got him ticklish again. "Um, I just really want to make sure that I can continue to be with my wife." He said, and, all the while, he continued to look at her. She grinned, winking, mouthing for him to play along.
"Baby," she said quietly, knowing that Danielson would hear it. "Are you almost done with your phone call? There's something I want to show you…upstairs…" She heard Danielson clear his throat over the phone before talking quickly.
"Three weeks from now?" Jesse said, his voice strained, as Beca kissed him loudly on his neck, hoping that the sound carried over to the man on the phone. "August thirteenth. Right, a Tuesday. Okay, ten? We will be there." Beca hummed against his neck, kissing him again loudly. "Right. We will…um…yeah, see you then, Mr. Danielson. Bye!" He said quickly hanging up the phone. He tossed the landline onto the coffee table in front of the couch. "You're evil. You got that poor man all flustered! He could barely string a full sentence together." She shrugged, not really caring.
"It got you off the phone with him, and it got you a date for the interview." She smiled and started to pull away from him, but he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his lap. She cocked an eyebrow at him.
"That wasn't fair to me either." She shrugged again, too. "What happened to the whole 'we only kiss in front of other people thing,' huh?"
"We sort of did kiss in front of another person. Your immigration agent is now under the impression that we have a healthy sex life." She grinned at him. "What would you like for dinner tonight? I just ate, but I need to go to the food store to pick up food for next week, anyways, so I could grab something in particular for tonight." He rolled his eyes, pulling her against his chest so that her head was tucked under his chin.
"Go later. I am happy, and I wanna to cuddle." She chuckled, rolling her eyes, but she acquiesced, because he was warm and comfortable, and she wasn't all that happy (well, she was about the immigration issue getting squared away for the time being). "How was your date with your boyfriend?" She groaned, burying her face into his chest.
"Let's just say, you are feeling happy and would like to cuddle to celebrate that happiness. I'm feeling unhappy and would like to cuddle to get over it." She muttered.
"What happened? Do I need to beat him up?" She laughed, because there was no way in hell that he had any chance of getting anything more than one surprise punch on Cole.
"No, you don't need to beat him up. If anything, he is probably going to want to beat you up."
"You told him!?" He pushed her away from his chest to look down at her in concern.
"Not because I wanted to! Ella showed up at the diner as we were getting ready to leave. She kept gushing about how cute you and I looked in all the photos that Chloe posted from the wedding, and how she had hit on you and you said that you were seeing someone, who she now realizes was me. Blah blah blah. She never came out and said that we were married or that we were even together, but Cole isn't stupid. He figured it out, so I had to tell him the truth. I didn't want him to think I was really a cheater. I'm not a cheater. At least, not intentionally, considering someone forced me to be a cheater when I didn't know I was being one the only other times I technically fell into that category."
"You told me that you weren't mad about that anymore!" Jesse muttered, squeezing her tighter to his chest. He ran his fingers up and down her arm, giving her shivers and goose bumps. She squirmed in his lap.
"Stop." She pouted when he just laughed. "I'm not…not really." He finally stopped then; instead, he squeezed her upper arm lightly, stroking his thumb along the skin there.
"I'm sorry that he found out. What happened?"
"Well, we ended things." She said, looking away from him. He poked her in her side, and she rolled her eyes. "He thought that we were a couple, and I didn't even know that. He never said, 'be my girlfriend,' or anything like that. He just assumed that we were a couple. He decided that he is at an age where he was looking for a wife and all that, not someone who is already a wife." She rolled her eyes, sighing. "I think I hurt him, 'cause I followed him outside, and I asked him not to tell anyone."
"I'm sorry that things didn't work out between the two of you." He said after a few moments.
"No, you're not." He laughed, pressing his forehead to the top of her head.
"Not at all." She rolled her eyes again. "Is this cuddle session making you feel any better? It is making me feel beyond awesome."
"Yeah, I bet it is." She muttered, sighing. "Yes, it's making me feel better, because you are warm and comfortable and I was a fat ass who ate a huge burger and fries and a milkshake and a piece of chocolate mousse pie, and now I want to nap."
"Let's nap then. We can go to the store in an hour, both of us, and it will be quicker." She nodded her head. "Also, you're not a fat ass. You weigh like five pounds."
"Thank you. My ego has grown to now be a quarter of the size of yours. Keep the compliments coming, and, eventually, it will grow to be the same size as yours."
"Make that a third of the size of mine, because your constant berating of my person has left my self-esteem and self-worth lower than usual." She giggled, closing her eyes.
"Shhh! Nap and cuddle time. Not talking time."
"Wait, let me get comfy." He shifted so that he was lying more on the couch, letting her lie between his legs and use his chest as her pillow. He pulled the throw blanket over them, and soon they both fell asleep.
"I would get a stomach bug the weekend before we have to go to immigration." Beca moaned, clutching her stomach while lying on her bed, completely miserable. Jesse chuckled from where he was reading a book next to her, running his hand through her hair a few times while she groaned again. "It's not like we can fucking cancel, so now I am stuck feeling nauseous over everything and having to go to the stupid immigration meeting tomorrow morning."
"I'm sorry you're feeling bad. We will tell Danielson that you are sick and to keep the trash can accessible. Maybe you can tell him all about how I have been a dutiful husband, holding back your hair as you puke, bringing you a ton of liquids and bland foods, reading to you until you fall asleep, forcing you to watch movies that make you punch me and say horrible things to me, because you are too weak to really do anything about it anyways." He grinned, making her pout and glare at him.
"I hate you." She muttered, raising her arm to smack him in the chest.
"No, you don't." He rolled his eyes, marking the page that they were on before setting the book aside. "C'mere. I will risk my own bout of whatever stomach bug you have to let you cuddle with me. You always feel better when we cuddle." She crinkled her nose as she rolled over, laying her head against his chest. "See!? Who knows his wife? This guy." He said, jabbing a thumb at his chest. She rolled her eyes.
"Shut up." She spat, hugging his waist with her arm and laying her head on his chest. He chuckled softly, running one hand up and down her back and the other along the arm she had draped over his stomach. "Jess, I feel like shit."
"I know. Get some sleep."
"I can't," she whispered, feeling like she was going to die any second. She didn't always feel like shit. Actually, if she was being honest, she woke up on Friday, feeling off; the cream and milk smelled a little off to her and she wanted no coffee/hot chocolate mix, instead choosing to drink a small mug of lemon tea and lots of water. On Saturday, she felt fine, ate a big breakfast and felt outstanding, until Jesse made them quesadillas for lunch, and she got sick in the half-bath off the kitchen. He immediately opened all of the windows to air out the kitchen and brought her a sandwich about an hour later. On Sunday, again, she felt a little off again, but not violently ill. She ate a light breakfast of toast with butter and jelly, even though Jesse offered to make waffles with a ton of fruit and powdered sugar (her usual favorite); she made it through the entire day without feeling like puking, until Sunday night when they were lazy and decided to order Chinese for dinner. That brought them to Monday. Beca went to work feeling kind of okay, just a little run down and irritable, which she thought was actually pretty normal, but when one of her coworkers started eating tuna salad, she threw up in the break room's trashcan. She called Jesse to come pick her up from work (he was working from home for the week, coming up with ideas for a new movie BioTerra was producing), and he brought her home, where she got sick again when she smelled that he made a grilled cheese for lunch. She hated feeling like this, and it wasn't regular. She had no idea when she was going to get sick; it wasn't like a normal stomach bug or flu.
"What do you need me to do? Do you want me to get you some water? Do you need a cold compress? Do you want me to shower in case my cologne is making you feel gross? Do you want me to get you a bath going?" He suggested, running the hand that was on her arm through her hair. "What would make you feel better?" She shrugged, feeling exhausted and miserable.
"You smell good." She said after a few moments. "You don't need to shower. You aren't making me feel sick." She told him. "I don't know. All of that sounds great, but you're warm and you make a really awesome pillow, and I want someone here to complain to about how awful I feel, and all of those things take you away from me, so no to all of it." She whined, making him laugh. "Sing to me?"
"You want me to sing?" He asked her, shocked. She nodded her head. "What do you want me to sing?"
"Doesn't matter." She said with her eyes closed.
"Okay, I will sing then," he said after a few moments. He was quiet for awhile, and, for a second, she thought that he wasn't actually going to sing something, but then he did, and the sound of his voice, vibrating through his chest in one ear and the sound of his voice coming from his mouth going in the other, it immediately calmed her and she felt like she could actually get some sleep.
"I know, girl, when you look at me
You don't know how I feel
Cause I'm usually so nonchalant
My feelings I conceal
But, I want you to know
Oh, I want you to know
"I must admit I've felt this way for more than quite a while
But I can't hold it no longer when I see that pretty smile
Can't wait no more
Oh, I can't wait no more
"Girl, to tell you the truth
It's always been you
I'm all about you
Oh, girl
No one can do me the way you do
It's always been you
I'm all about you."
He paused, and she opened an eye. This wasn't the song that she was expecting him to sing, at all. She wondered why he chose it. Before he could start the next verse of the song, she decided to make a joke.
"You seem to have an obsession with Bruno Mars," Beca said, raising her head to look at him. Jesse smiled softly, shrugging his shoulder. "Are you gay? Am I your beard?"
"It's a love song about a girl—how does that make me gay?"
"But, there are a lot of other songs you could have chosen, and you chose another song by Bruno Mars."
"I like Bruno Mars. Normally, when I sing his music to a woman, it results in her throwing off all her clothes and ravaging me." He told her with a very serious expression his face, but she could tell he was joking (right?). She rolled her eyes, trying to not laugh at him.
"Are you saying you're trying to get me into bed with you? Newsflash, nerd; I'm already in bed with you."
"That you are." He said quietly.
"Do you like to have sex with women who are sick? That's a little weird…just saying."
"I'm sure that it would make you forget all about how sick you are feeling and make you feel really good, but I would rather sleep with you when you're willing and eager to be with me, and not because of those two reasons." She snorted slightly at his 'willing and eager' comment, but didn't let herself fully laugh, because what he was really saying finally sunk in.
"You want to have sex with me?" She asked him after a few moments. She was daring him to tell her the truth; she knew that he did, because she had spent enough time sleeping in a bed with him and waking up to his very aroused state from having her wrapped up in his arms, and because of his reactions to their kisses or when he saw her in small amounts of clothing. She just wasn't sure if he would actually say it to her.
"Oh, c'mon, Beca. You know that I'm attracted to you. Just like I know you're attracted to me, too." He paused, laying his hand over her left hand that was draped across his stomach. He played with the rings there. "I also know that neither one of us are going to act on those feelings anytime soon."
"We're not." She meant it as a statement, but it came out more as a question. He looked at her for a few moments, studying her face, looking for something. She was sure that he was looking for a sign that she was interested in having sex with him, but as well as he seemed to be able to read her, she found it impossible to be able to read him.
"No, neither one of us is willing to jeopardize what we have here." He said after a few moments, looking away from her.
"What is that?"
"You're my best friend, Beca. I'm forever grateful to you for doing this for me, for agreeing to marry me so that I can stay in the U.S." He paused again, still refusing to look at her. "You also have a huge fear of commitment, and I know that if were to change what we have—even to something that was purely sexual—you would bolt."
Fuck you, Beca thought as she pulled away from him. She hated having her issues with trust and commitment shoved in her face, like it made her a bad person. Jesse didn't let her go far, though, because he followed her. She was facing away from him, staring out the window at the pretty summer day. It was hot outside, but the condo was cool from the air conditioning. Jesse wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her until she was flush against his back. He was leaning over her slightly, resting all of his weight on his one forearm. "I'm not saying that you're not worth it or anything, Beca, because you are. You're an amazing person, and any guy would be lucky to have you, but I have to be smart and selfish here. You and I can't start having sex and then stop having sex with each other, going back to being just friends who are married for two years. It doesn't work that way, because you know as well as I do, feelings get involved, which is why you end things before there is a chance that there are any feelings. Our situation is far too complicated. Believe me when I say that I would turn you over right now and have my way with you if I thought that it wouldn't complicate things, but it will, so I won't. Besides, any sex that I will have with the woman that I married to be out of the love we share for one another. You might think I'm corny for saying that, but it is true. I think that marriage is like the ultimate expression of love two people can have, and that makes sex all the more meaningful."
The entire time he was talking, she felt like shit, because she knew he was right. She did feel attracted to him, but she knew that she would bolt the second things started to seem real, and having sex would make things seem way more real than they had pretending it was. She also knew that she wouldn't be able to go back to not having sex with him—not knowing that part of him—but still be his friend, his roommate, his wife; it would be too much, and she would feel the itch to run again, which would result in him not getting his permanent green card. She sighed, rolling over to face him.
"Okay." She said. He nodded his head, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes as his lips grazed her skin, and she tried to ignore the tingles that spread throughout her body; she couldn't let them give in to their attraction to each other, because it was sexual and it would ruin everything. She couldn't lose her best friend.
"Are you feeling any better?" He asked, and she nodded her head. "Still want to nap?"
"Actually, I think I'm gonna take a shower." She wanted to be alone now, and he seemed to sense it. He nodded his head, pressing one final kiss to her forehead. He rolled away from her and climbed off her bed. He gave a small wave before he walked out of her bedroom, shutting the door behind him. The click of it shutting made her jump, because it seemed so loud in the now empty room. She rolled over, laying in the bed and staring at the ceiling for some time. His last few sentences were swirling around in her mind. She did think he was kind of corny for saying that sex with his wife when they were in love was meaningful, et cetera, but, at the same time, she felt her stomach churn at the idea of him with another woman, sharing that meaningful experience. She rationalized it as being caught up in the idea of being attracted to him sexually and being his friend, wanting to protect him from someone who might hurt him. That was the only explanation that there could be, right? After a while, she pulled herself from the bed, stripping off her clothes and then walking into the bathroom, ready to shower away all of the nausea and confusion she was feeling.
The next day, Beca felt okay enough that she hoped that she would make it through the interview without throwing up all over everywhere. The two of them took the day off, heading to the interview, feeling confident that they could make it through the interview and still be seen as a legitimate couple. When they got into the meeting, she made it known to Danielson that she wasn't feeling well and might have to excuse herself to go to the restroom.
"That's fine, Mrs. Swanson." Mr. Danielson said as he waved a hand at the chairs. "We're going to start with going over some of the paperwork, like reviewing the marriage license, et cetera, and then we are going to ask you to leave, Mr. Swanson, so we can interview your wife. Then, we will interview him, comparing your answers. We will let you know as soon as possible what the results of the interviews are. You will receive official notice in the mail, but at the end of the interviews, we will give you an idea of what to expect in the official notice."
"Will we receive that within the next week and a half? That is all we have left, Mr. Danielson; we have until the first of September, officially," Beca asked, grabbing Jesse's hand, pretending that she was so scared that this is what would happen.
"I am not sure when exactly that will happen, Mrs. Swanson, but I will do my best to make sure everything is finalized for you by then. Let's hope that the results are in your favor." She nodded her head, and she could tell that Danielson was still slightly suspicious that they are really together. She hoped that she could play this the right way in order to not put the two of them at risk.
"Um, I have a copy of a marriage license here." She pulled out two manila folders from her bag, one the typical beige-tan color, the other blue. "The blue folder contains all of the original documents, such as our marriage license and other shared paperwork. The tan folder contains copies for you to keep." She handed both folders to Mr. Danielson. She was going to take lead on this, because she had a way of bitching at people and getting them to do what she wanted, which helped in her career—making artists do what she wanted (examples being speeding up a song or slowing it down, or changing a rhythm, et cetera). "I admit that Jesse and I only began living together in April of this year, so we only have a few months' worth of shared paperwork. We had planned on living together for at least a year prior to getting married, but we moved the wedding up when we realized that he was incapable of extending his work visa. However, I have plenty of other proof that we have known each other for the last three years, as well as our relationship from the last year." She smiled at Danielson as he perused the folder with the original documentation in it. "We have our latest mortgage statement with both of our names on it, as well as joint bills, a joint savings account, and a credit card statement."
While Danielson was busy looking at the documents in the folder, Jesse turned and widened his eyes at Beca, who responded with a wink before turning her focus back on the immigration agent. "Alright, this all looks pretty good, so I would like to start the interview now, Mr. and Mrs. Swanson," he said, handing the blue folder back to her, and she immediately returned it to her oversized purse. "Mr. Swanson, Mrs. Carter will take you into the waiting room." She nodded her head before turning to Jesse. She pressed a kiss to his lips.
"See you soon." She told him, and he nodded before heading out of the room, following a middle-aged woman who stood in the doorway.
"Mrs. Swanson, I would like you to state your full name and birth date." She took a deep breath.
"My full name is Rebeca, with one 'c,' Charlotte Swanson. My maiden name was Mitchell. I was born on January 19, 1986."
"Please tell me your husband full name and birth date." He said, after he quickly wrote something down on a pad of paper in front of him.
"His name is Jesse Gabriel Swanson. He was born on November 4, 1985."
"When and where did you meet Jesse?"
"I met him in June of 2010. We were at a party being held by our mutual friends. My best friend, Chloe Beale, now Wharton, was dating his friend Dean Wharton. Um, Dean's nickname is Hat. Jesse calls Dean Hat all the time, so he might not remember to call him Dean." She chewed on her bottom lip. Danielson took a few moments to write down her response.
"Would you please describe this meeting for me?"
"Chloe and Dean hosted a party to celebrate their moving in with each other. They invited a lot of their old friends from college. They thought that Jesse and I would get along with each other pretty well, so they had us sit next to each other at dinner. We did hit it off, and we hung out for most of the party." She bit her lip. "Um, he might not tell you this, because it is kind of embarrassing, for me more than him, but he and I wound up getting really drunk and we wound up making out. I was really drunk, and I got sick all over his shoes." She smiled, rolling her eyes.
"And, you still wound up getting together?"
"Not right away. We agreed to meet for dinner the next night. He said that it was only fair of me to make it up to him by going out with him. So, we met up the next night for dinner."
"How did that go?"
"Um, we went out to dinner." She shrugged. "It was Italian food. I'm not sure what restaurant." She chewed on her lip, as if trying to remember something that happened three years before. "We had a great time, talked about a lot about our jobs and interests, favorite bands and musicians, et cetera. He drove me home to my old apartment, and we kissed each other good night. The next day, he got on a plane and went back to New York City."
"Did you guys exchange phone numbers?" Danielson asked as he wrote down her answer. She shook her head.
"No, we became friends on Facebook before the date that night, but we didn't exchange numbers until the engagement party. Well, we both had access to the other's numbers via our Facebook pages, but we just never really used them until after we got together." She crinkled her nose. "I didn't think to bring copies of our cell phone bills." She shrugged.
"Tell me about your relationship. How did it begin?" She bit her lip, taking a breath before she began telling the story that she and Jesse had come up with.
"We had a few false starts over the years, Mr. Danielson; Chloe and Dean were so sure that we were perfect for each other, so we were constantly pushed together during group events that they were throwing, and somehow Chloe convinced our friends Fat Amy and Bumper to do the same for us. Bumper—his first name is John—and Fat Amy—her first name is actually Patricia, but for some reason, she likes to go by Fat Amy—met at the same party that Jesse and I met at. They started dating, because they both live here in LA, and then they got married. Anyways, in April of 2012, Chloe and Dean got engaged and had an engagement party; Jesse was there, and he was talking about how he was interested in moving to LA to try and find a job actually composing scores for movies and shows. We decided that we would give it a shot now, because he was looking into moving to LA."
"When did Jesse move to LA?"
"He found a job in December of 2012, and he subletted an apartment here; it was a four-month sublet. We decided that we were going to get a place together after his sublet was up and my lease finished up, which would be around the time of Chloe and Dean's wedding."
"Tell me about your decision to get married. Where were you? When did it happen? What were you doing? All of those details." She took a deep breath.
"Well, at first I didn't really want to get married. Jesse's kind of like my first real relationship, you know? I have issues relating to trust and commitment, so I went into my relationship with Jesse being so sure that it was going to fail. I told him that we couldn't tell anyone at first, until we were sure it was real and it was serious, because I didn't want to deal with Chloe's 'I told you so.' We were both in Chloe and Dean's wedding parties, and since we were doing all of the stuff that came with that, we decided to have a frank conversation about our relationship, where we both saw it going, what our thoughts were about living together and marriage, and if we could actually see being married with the other person. We decided that we weren't ready for it at the time, but we decided to move in with each other first. So, we were living together for like one month, and we threw a big housewarming party at our condo, and Jesse proposed. I could have killed him, because I'm so not the romantic, big gestures type of girl, and he got all of his old friends from college who were in his a cappella group to sing backup for him, and he sang Bruno Mars' Marry You to me and then proposed in front of all our friends. It was mortifying, Mr. Danielson; we had been barely together for a year, barely living together for one month, and here he is singing to me in front of everyone and then dropping to his knee and asking me to marry him." She rolled her eyes. "A huge part of me wanted to run, because this was exactly the kind of thing that would freak me out, but then I thought about how sweet he is with me, how he is my best friend first and was boyfriend second, and I decided that if there was anyone I could see myself marrying, it would be him, so I said yes." She blew out a breath.
"So, you lived together only for a few months before your wedding?"
"Yes, from April twenty-second until June twenty-fifth; it was a short engagement, because we knew that he had to go back to Canada. I know that if we didn't have to worry about this whole immigration issue, we would have wound up being engaged for longer. I guess this is the perfect way to actually get someone with commitment and trust issues down the aisle, Mr. Danielson, because I was so busy planning the wedding and then it was suddenly time to actually get married that I didn't have time to really freak out and second guess it." She shrugged.
The interview continued in much of the same way. Beca answered the questions to the best of her ability, but she knew that there was no way that even the realest of couples wouldn't be able to answer all of the questions perfectly. There were a couple of moments when she had to say that she didn't "remember" the answer to a question, and Danielson didn't look suspicious, so she thought that things were going pretty well. Then, things changed.
"So, Mrs. Swanson, which side of the bed do you sleep on?"
"The left."
"This means that Mr. Swanson sleeps on the right side of the bed."
"No." She laughed at the confused expression on the man's face. "He primarily sleeps directly in the center of the bed, so either he pulls me to sleep on his left side towards the center of the bed, or he winds up sleeping on the left side with me, and the only way that I stay in the bed is because he has an arm or a leg wrapped around me." That literally happened during their honeymoon. Their friends had all put money in to get them a really great honeymoon suite for their week in Quebec City rather than buying them presents, so they were kind of forced to share a bed for about two weeks. One of the nights, Beca woke up to find she was lying on the very edge of the bed, with one of her legs hanging off of it, the only thing keeping her on the bed was Jesse's arm that was wrapped around her waist, and his leg tucked over her leg that was still on the bed. She nudged him, and when he woke up, he jerked his arm and leg off of her, and she nearly fell out of the bed, but he grabbed her quickly enough to stop it from happening. Seriously, that boy had to be part cat with the reflexes he had. He laughed his ass off at that, and she punched him in the stomach, making him gasp for air. He made sure to stay on the right side of the bed the rest of the night, and she couldn't help but feel cold and…weird…without having him lying right beside her; it was the first night that they hadn't fallen asleep in each other's arms since slightly before they were married.
"So, Mrs. Swanson, the next question might leave you feeling uncomfortable." She raised an eyebrow. Her stomach was churning, and she was hoping that this interview was going to be done soon, because she wasn't feeling well at all. She pressed a hand to her forehead, finding that it was clammy. She gripped her stomach with one arm and tried to focus on Danielson. "What kind of birth control do you and Mr. Swanson use?" She looked up sharply at the man, pressing a hand to her mouth, because she felt like she was going to get sick any second; she didn't know if it was because of what that question made her realize or because she was already feeling sick. "Mrs. Swanson? Are you alright?"
"I'm gonna get sick!" She stood up and ran out of the room, rushing towards the bathroom, ignoring the calls from Danielson and Jesse. She rushed into the bathroom, pushing open the nearest empty stall and collapsed to her knees. She began heaving into the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach, tears pouring down her face. She felt someone come up behind her, rubbing her back and pulling her hair from her face.
"I'm here, Becs." She heard Jesse's voice, and she cried harder. When she finally finished empty her stomach and stopped heaving, she groaned, pressing her face into her hands. She was crying hard. He pulled her against his chest, running a hand through her hair, and whispering into the top of her head that she was okay now. Shit! The only thing that was stampeding through her mind at that moment was: did they use a condom when they had sex? She didn't think that they did, and they never talked about birth control—or whether or not she was on the pill (she wasn't; she used to, but she kept forgetting to take it and it made her feel bloated and she gained weight when she took it, so she stopped using it). Fuck! Was she pregnant?
Beca knew that she had to tell Jesse, but she knew that she had to find out the truth before she told him her suspicions. Maybe she just had a weird stomach bug, but she hates being sick, so she is forcing her body to not recognize the symptoms. Besides, she had her period the last few months. Well, it was lighter than normal, light spotting and lasting like three days. She thought it was just the stress that came with having to plan a wedding and the impending immigration interview and all the drama that two of them had between them since the incident. The fucking incident. Plus, she wasn't getting sick, until now. If she did her math right, it was a little under three months since they had sex, so she should have been getting sick before now, right? Fuck, was this morning sickness? What the hell kind of name is morning sickness when it happened all throughout the day? She groaned again. "You're okay." Jesse said, making her jump, remembering that he was there.
"Jesse, this is the women's bathroom." She told him, pulling away from him to wipe her mouth with a piece of toilet paper.
"I know, but you were sick, and I was worried about you. I thought you were okay today. It's been four days. You should go to the doctor, Becs, to find out what is going on."
"Yeah, I'm gonna call as soon as I can." She told him, not daring to look at his face.
"Hey, you're gonna be okay. It's probably just a stomach bug or maybe you have an ulcer or something."
"Oh, nothing too serious, just a burning hole in my stomach." She said, shrugging and rolling her eyes at him.
"That is the spirit! C'mon, we better get out of here." She nodded her head, taking his hand to let him help her get up. She flushed the toilet and went to rinse out her mouth. She was pretty sure she had some gum in her bag, which was in Danielson's office. She wiped at the smudged eyeliner beneath her eyes. She then pulled her hair back into a ponytail, hoping that she looked presentable again. "You look great. Don't worry." He took her hand in his, leading her from the bathroom. He led her back towards where Danielson and the woman who had escorted him out of the room earlier were standing with their arms crossed.
"Sorry, Mr. Danielson; I have been really sick lately, and I thought I was going to make it through the interview without getting sick."
"That's quite alright, Mrs. Swanson. I think that our portion of the interview is finished now. Why don't you take a seat in the waiting room while I interview Mr. Swanson?" She nodded her head, heading into the room to grab her bag, leaving behind the oversized envelope of pictures that she and Jesse had compiled as support for their relationship. She walked into the waiting area, smiling gratefully at—Mrs. Carter?—the woman who handed her a paper cup of water. While she waited for Jesse to finish his interview, she closed her eyes and listened to her music on her cell phone through her headphones.
Even though the chair was uncomfortable, Beca must have fallen asleep, because she jumped when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She found that Jesse was crouching at her side, smiling softly at her. He pressed a hand to her forehead, checking to see if she had a fever. "Hey, how ya feeling?" She shrugged, pulling the headphones from her ears as she turned off the music.
"Doesn't matter. How'd it go?"
"It does matter. How are you feeling, Beca?" She sighed.
"I'm feeling a lot better. I'm actually kind of hungry." He nodded his head, standing up and extending hand to her. He grabbed the bag from her arms after he helped her stand up, shoving the envelope of pictures inside it, taking her hand in his. As they walked out the door, with Beca grabbing her bag back from Jesse, she looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "How'd it go in there?"
"Well, he said that he can't tell me the official results yet, but he said that we did a really great job proving that we are a happily married, in love couple. I think me running into the ladies' room after you when you got sick was what helped solidify that opinion he had. By the way," he glanced around them to make sure no one was nearby, grinning at her when he returned his gaze towards her. "I nearly laughed aloud when he asked a question about food preferences. I talked about your favorite sundae and your aversion to tomatoes unless in sauce or salsa form." She nodded her head, because she made sure to say those things, because she knew that Jesse would remember those preferences over any others she may have. "You said you were hungry. What were you thinking? Did you want to go get something to eat or would you like to go home? I think that we should go home, because I don't want you to get sick again."
"I'm fine, but I want to go home, too. Can we get some fettuccini Alfredo to-go?" She asked, craving pasta. He looked at her like she was crazy as they climbed into their car (hers, but he was driving).
"Seriously? Isn't that a little heavy?" She shrugged, not caring, because she really wanted to eat that.
"I'm really craving pasta, but really don't want a marinara sauce or a meat sauce; I just really don't want any tomato today. I just want a creamy Alfredo sauce. Please?" He rolled his eyes, nodding his head.
"Why don't I run into the food store and grab a jar of sauce?"
"I want fresh sauce."
"I can make us fresh sauce." She thought about it.
"Okay," she smiled at him. She rested her head back on the seat, just enjoying the nice day (which wasn't that hot, surprisingly), listening to Jesse hum along with the radio and occasional mutters about how she was crazy. She kept thinking about how she needed to find out if she was pregnant, because if she was already two and a half months along. She was going to start showing soon, and she couldn't exactly hide that from him. California wasn't exactly the best state to hide a pregnancy from someone under baggy clothing. She couldn't wear sweatshirts all of the time. It wouldn't make sense, especially not in the summer. She took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly, because this wasn't part of the plan. She couldn't be pregnant. This wasn't supposed to be real between her and Jesse, and a baby was as real as it could get.
Author's Note: Congrats, TrainofThough15 – you so called it after chapter five. Let me know what you all think of this chapter (and plot development)!