The air in the cramped motel room felt heavy, thick with the scent of old dust and unspoken questions.
I couldn't stop my hands from moving. I smoothed out the faded bedspread for the tenth time, my fingers catching on the rough fabric.
"Attitude?" I blurted out, looking surprised as I adjusted the spread. I didn't dare look at him, keeping my eyes glued to the floral pattern.
He was right.
"I wasn't giving you an attitude," I replied sharply. The words came out too fast, a frantic defense. I sat on the edge of the mattress, my posture stiff and defensive.
"It seems you saw something on my phone," he said softly. His voice was calm, which only made my stomach twist into a tighter knot.
"Why did you kiss me?" I shouted. I turned to face him, my voice cracking with the effort to distract him. I needed to shift the focus, to pull his mind away from the phone.
Raisem raised his brows, "Are you actually asking me that? I asked a question first, and I also deserve a response."
"I already gave you a response. I'm a bit exhausted and I need to sleep."
I looked away, my chest aching. I couldn't bring myself to tell him about the text I saw on his phone, the one that felt like a punch to the gut.
I grabbed the thin, scratchy blanket, pulling it tightly around my shoulders as if it were armor, and sank my head into the soft pillow.
Suddenly, the warmth was ripped away. I screamed out in shock as Raisem yanked the blanket off my body and tossed it onto the floor.
"You can't leave me hanging and just try to sleep off," he said, standing over me, his shadow looming large against the peeling wallpaper.
"So you're going to force the answer out of me?" I said, letting out a dry, frantic laugh.
Why was he so desperate? I looked up at him, and despite my anger, a small, traitorous smile touched my lips.
I couldn't ignore how handsome he looked in the dim light.
"No, I have other ways," he said with a dark smirk. He took a deliberate step toward the bed frame.
"What plans?" I asked, fear flickering in my chest.
I sat up quickly, scrambling like a frightened cat to the other side of the bed.
But he was faster. He climbed onto the mattress, the springs groaning under his weight as he crawled toward me.
I tried to scramble away, but he lunged. His fingers locked around my waist, firm and he pulled me back against him.
I ended up sitting on his thighs. In the sudden intimacy, I felt the hardness of his rod pressing against me.
I tried to pull his arms off me, but he was too strong.
"What are you doing? Let me go!" I gasped, my face flushing deep red.
"Have you forgotten you signed a contract?" he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "And we haven't had sex."
"Oh my God, you're such a pervert!" I yelled, my small fists slammed into his broad chest.
How could he just say it like that? So blunt, I knew we had to conceive for the sake of the contract, but here? In this old, shabby place with its stained carpet and flickering lights?
"I'm not doing anything with you! Let me go now!" I struggled harder.
Suddenly, a sharp thwack echoed through the room as the door burst open.
The receptionist stood there, her eyes wide as she took in our tangled position on the bed. A huge, knowing grin spread across her face.
"I am so sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt the love affair," she chuckled, quickly pulling the door shut.
Raisem released his grip, his hands sliding off my waist. I scrambled off his lap instantly, smoothing my hair with trembling hands.
"You can have the bed. I'll sleep in the reception," I snapped, bolting toward the door.
I didn't get far.Raisem moved like a shadow, his hand shooting out to catch my wrist.
"You take the bed," he said, his tone turning serious.
Seeing him head for the door made my heart sink. I didn't actually want him to go.
"We can share the bed," I nervously scratched my brow, looking at the bed. "It's big enough for two."
He stopped, turning back to me. He walked closer and closer the space between us.
"If we do that," he said, leaning down so his face was inches from mine, "I am afraid we might do something, and I won't be able to control myself."
"Let's just share it," I whispered, retreating to the bed.
I lay down on the far edge, facing the wall. A moment later, I felt the mattress dip as he settled on the other side.
We lay there, back to back, the silence stretching out between us like a vast ocean. But I was never good at silence.
"Raisem," I called out softly.
"Mmm?" He hummed in response. The sound was deep, thick with the weight of exhaustion.
It was a sleepy, low vibration that felt incredibly intimate in the dark room.
"What gender would you love your first kid to be?" I asked.
I wasn't looking for a deep debate; I just wanted to hear his voice, to bridge the gap between us.
"I'm fine with any gender," he said, and I could hear a trace of desperation in his voice. "I just want a child."
"Oh... okay," I murmured.
"How about you?" he asked, his voice a bit clearer now.
"Me?" I blinked, surprised he cared to ask.
"I'd love the first child to be a boy." I smiled into my pillow. "When I was in high school, I got bullied a lot. I was an only child. My friends had older brothers who stood by them."
"I always felt like if I had a son first, he could protect his sister when I'm not around." I smiled.
I felt the bed shift as Raisem turned toward me.
"Do you know there is a position that can guarantee a male child on the first try?"
"Jesus Christ!" I shrieked, laughing softly. "What position is that?"
"I can only show you," he whispered.
Before I could breathe, he threw back the blanket and moved over me.
He pinned my wrists beside my head, his body a warm, heavy weight over mine. He looked down at me, his eyes dark and intense, before his head dropped and his lips met mine.
The kiss was electric. It wasn't soft; it was hungry and demanding. Our tongues danced together. I slid my hands down to his shirt, my fingers fumbling with the buttons, desperate to feel his skin.
Suddenly, his hands clamped over mine, stopping me. I pulled back, confused and breathless.
"Why...?"
"Are you sure you want this now?" he asked, his voice soft, almost tender. "I can wait a little bit."
I just stared at him, my heart racing.
"I don't want to do anything serious in this motel," he said, his voice breaking as he let out a small, dry cough. "The bed is so dusty."
The romantic fog cleared instantly, replaced by a wave of awkwardness. He was right. The room felt gritty and wrong.
"Not here," I agreed quietly.
He rolled off me immediately, but he didn't turn away. We lay there for a long time, staring into each other's eyes.
He looked so handsome, I couldn't stop staring, but still, I was the first to break the gaze.
"I want to go to bed," I said.
He nodded silently.
I turned my back to him. After a minute, I realized I hadn't asked him about the strange calls. The words, Hello Ara, watch your back.
I wanted to tell him about it that night.
"Raisem?" I called his name.
But he was already gone. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, his face peaceful and innocent in sleep.
He looked like a baby. I stared at him, bewildered by how fast he had drifted off. I sighed, deciding the questions could wait till tomorrow.
******
Morning arrived with a harsh glare. I woke up squinting against the bright sunlight streaming through the window.
I reached out a hand hoping and turned to the other side of the bed, I noticed Raisem was gone.
I got up, brushed my teeth and stepped outside. Near the entrance, the receptionist was leaning against a post, puffing on a cigarette.
"Good morning. Have you seen a guy with ginger hair?" I asked.
"You mean your husband?" she asked, blowing a cloud of smoke.
"No, he isn't my husband," I corrected quickly.
"Is he a fuckmate then?" she asked bluntly.
I recoiled, looking at her with disgust. "Have you seen him or not?"
"He's taking some fresh air outside with another hot chick, that guy needs to be death with." she said looking disgusted.
Another chick, what was she even saying? I didn't think too much about it and just went outisde to look for him.
I stepped around the corner, and my heart jumped. The car was back, looking polished and repaired.
Raisem was standing by the driver's side door. But he wasn't alone. As he stepped aside, a woman came out of the passenger seat.
My blood ran cold. She looked exactly like the woman from the messages on his phone, the one who had sent the photos and the weird texts. The one who made me aggressive towards him.
She caught sight of me, and her entire posture shifted. Her shoulders stiffened, and a look of pure hatred crossed her face.
"So," she said, walking toward me with a sneer. "This is your new plaything? The one you ditched me for?"
Raisem's face went pale. "Ara, go back inside and freshen up," he commanded, his voice firm and final.
What the hell is going on?