Married to a Narcissist, Pregnant With My Ex’s Child

Selene’s POV

Tom was above me. His fingers wrapped around my hair while he thrust into me hungrily.

My hands were pinned to my side, with each movement making my head bob.

We had been going at it for hours, and now my body ached. I wanted him to stop; I had enough.

“Tom,” I whispered.

“Tom,” louder this time.

But he didn't listen. He never did.

In the next minute he was done. He rolled over me, resting on his back, panting. I remained still. I waited to feel something. Love, ecstasy, satisfaction – but I felt nothing.

This had to be it. I mean, I was in my fertile window when I suggested we try tonight.

But yet again, it was still my fertile window some months before and the month before that.

He walked to his dresser. His muscles flexed with his each step.

He hadn’t even acknowledged what we had done.

“You can go now,” he said, without turning back. His voice was distant and cold.

That was it, my cue to leave the room like always.

“Can’t I sleep here tonight?” I swallowed. “I really miss sleeping next to you.”

He didn't even look at me. “No.”

“Why?” I asked.

Then he turned. “When you are finally able to give me an heir, then we can consider that.”

“But you know it's not my fault,” I winced.

“Then whose fault is it, Selene, mine?”

The room went silent.

“We would be going to see Dr John Tomorrow,” he muttered.

I jolted up in bed. My eyes widened. It was like I had heard it from someone else and not him.

The last time I had suggested visiting a specialist, it didn’t end well.

I remembered it all to well.

He had stood by the kitchen counter after breakfast, adjusting his tie for work.

I kissed Amira goodbye as I watched the school bus drive away.

I exhaled, wiping my hand over my top as I walked in.

“Tom, Sophie knows a very good doctor we could go see,” I whispered; my voice shook.

Silence.

“We could run some tests, maybe even try IVF, and…”

He spun around, his fingers curled into a fist.

“What are you suggesting, Selene? That there might be something wrong with me?”

My chest pounded. “No…not at all. I would be going through a series of tests as well. It’s just…”

“I am not doing any of that, Selene. Don't ever bring this up again.” He adjusted his tie and made his way out the door.

I stood, frozen, surprised at his reaction. “I am sorry,” I whispered.

But he already slammed the door shut.

I shuddered at the memory.

“Really?” I asked.

“Be ready by nine. I have a lot to do tomorrow,” he said.

My lips parted to speak.

I wanted to tell him that tomorrow was our anniversary.

But then his phone rang.

He picked it up with the speed of light; for a second I wondered who was calling.

He smiled when he saw the number on the screen.

He never smiled like that with me.

“Hello. How are you doing?” He whispered into the receiver and walked towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Soon enough the sound of his voice got drowned out by the sound of the shower.

I sighed. I guess our conversation was over.

The next morning I called in the babysitter.

Amira stayed home; she was running a temperature, and I needed to keep an eye on her.

“Daddy! Can you give me a kiss?” Amira yelled, stretching her arms out to Tom before he walked out the door.

He leaned just enough for Amira to hear.

“Daddy doesn't do kisses, Amira. Meet your mother,” he said.

I watched Amira’s smile drop.

The babysitter did too.

“Hurry up, Selene,” Tom said, then walked out the door.

I carried Amira into my arms and hugged her tightly.

“Daddy is just in a rush, sweetheart, but I would give you all the kisses you want.” I planted kisses all over her face.

She giggled. “Stop, Mum, it’s too much.”

“You deserve it, my princess.” I planted a kiss for the last time and handed her to the babysitter.

“Please take care of her; if anything happens, give me a call,” I muttered.

“You have nothing to worry about, ma'am.” She flashed a smile.

“Bye, Mum,” Amira called out as I walked out the door.

“Bye, princess,” I called out.

Immediately I got into the car. Tom rolled his eyes and started the engine.

“You pamper that girl Wey too much,” he said.

“She’s your daughter too, Tom,” I muttered.

He said nothing, adjusting the rearview mirror as he drove out.

I turned the other way, looking out the window.

I knew it was a lie, but I wanted him to love her just like I did.

We drove in silence till he finally pulled up at the hospital gate.

Doctor John was a man whose face was greased with years of experience; he didn't talk much when we told him why we came.

Tom and I were taken to separate rooms for the examinations.

After the examination, we sat by the reception.

“Wait here; this might take a few hours,” the nurse said before spinning on her heels and walking off.

Tom’s phone vibrated again, another quick smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. I stared at my hands; they wouldn’t stop trembling.

The room felt oddly cold.

I glanced at him, but he seemed oblivious of my unease.

“Tom?” I whispered.

“Huh?” he answered.

“Have you forgotten what today is?”

“What?” he muttered; he didn’t even lift his eyes from the screen.

I sighed.

My chest tightened. “Did you really forget?”

“I don't have time for games, Selene,” he snapped.

I swallowed the sting and leaned back in my chair slowly. “Never mind then.”

He kept typing. Smiling and typing again.

We stayed that way for another hour.

Then finally the door swung open.

The nurse stepped in. Her expression was not giving anything away.

“Mr and Mrs Harold, you may come in; the doctor’s waiting.”