If you don't terrify people, what's the point.

Chapter 5

“Glad to see you two are getting along.”

You look up, pulling away from Robby’s embrace and spot your mom and dad walking over to you. Your cheeks instantly burn, even though all he was doing was hugging you. Not kissing you, not doing anything but congratulating you on the biggest day of your life so far.

“We were always getting along,” Robby protests, squeezing your shoulder once more before stepping back. You feel like you may overheat in your polyester robe, but you’re also not quite ready to take it off yet. It’s taken a long two years to get to graduation, and you want to enjoy it as long as you can.

“Congratulations, sweetie. We’re so proud of you,” your dad says, pulling you into his side. 

“We are,” Mom says, smiling broadly at you. “So proud. How do you feel?”

You think about that for a long moment. “Relieved? Nervous about what’s next? I don’t know. It’s all kind of a blur.”

“How about we go for lunch to celebrate?”

You honestly aren’t hungry, and would so much rather just go home, but you nod anyway. Your parents have done so much to support you, and you don’t want to be ungrateful.

It’s just hard, because things at home have been so comfortable since the gala. You were worried that your growing feelings for Robby would make things uncomfortable, but if anything, he’s been more open with his affection, letting you rest against him while you watch TV, kissing the top of your head when he’s leaving the house, pulling you in for a hug when he can see you’re overwhelmed. A few nights ago, he even let you scratch your fingernails through his hair after he had a hard day at the hospital. Watching him relax under your touch was beautiful, and you hope things can continue this way.

You’re distracted all through lunch, especially when your mom and Robby get into a conversation about work.

“Any job prospects, hon?” your dad asks, nudging you with his elbow to get your attention.

“Um, a few,” you say vaguely. The truth is, there aren’t a lot of job openings for librarians in Pittsburgh, and the ones that are available sound more like babysitting than using your degree. You can’t help but wonder if that has anything to do with the laws that have been passed. After all, women are just for producing children these days. Being a children’s librarian was something you had really considered while you were in school, but the job descriptions open to women these days take away all the actual library skills and make it just childcare.

No, thanks.

“At least you don’t have to worry about making rent, huh?” your dad says, smiling in a way you know is meant to be supportive.

It hits you wrong, though. “I’ve never wanted to rely on anyone to support me,” you say firmly, and your mom turns her head away from Robby to listen. “And I’m not about to start now. I’ve always intended to work. Robby knows that.”

“I know, I’m just saying.” Your dad raises his hands, and you feel a pang of guilt for jumping on him, but you hate the idea of leeching off of Robby just because he has a good job. You can take care of yourself. 

Robby’s hand covers yours and the heat of it centers you a bit. “Your daughter is very independent, and it’s one of the things I love about her.” Your heart skips at the words. He’s never said he loves you before. “She’ll find the right thing for her. I have no doubt about that.”

You shoot him a grateful smile and he squeezes your hand once before he withdraws from you. The conversation starts up again, but you’re stuck on his words.

By the time you get home, you’re sure you must have heard him wrong. He didn’t mean it that way. You know he cares about you, but love? No way.

Robby pulls a bottle of champagne out of the fridge. “Shall we continue celebrating?” There’s a twinkle in his eyes that you don’t get to see often enough, and you nod.

“When did you buy champagne?”

“As soon as you told me when graduation was. I’m proud of you, kid.” He pours you a glass and hands it to you, fingers brushing yours. The combination of the nickname with the touch makes a whole swirl of emotions light up inside you. You drain the first glass and he pours you another. “Come on. Let’s go enjoy the beautiful day.” He holds out a hand toward the back door, and you head outside to sit on the comfortable chairs you don’t use often enough.

It’s a warm day, but mercifully not humid, and you close your eyes at the feeling of the sun on your skin. When you open them again, you catch Robby staring at you.

“I have something on my face?” you ask, teasing him a little.

He flushes, ducking his head and taking a long sip of wine. “What are you thinking about?” He’s deflecting, but that’s okay. You can feel the fizzy wine making you brave and you decide to be honest, no matter the consequences.

“Did you mean it?”

Robby frowns, tilting his head as he studies your face. “Did I mean what?”

“What you said at lunch.” You know, when his eyes widen just slightly, that he knows exactly  what you mean.

“Oh.” The blush on his cheeks deepens. “Yeah. I did.” He swallows, then the words start to spill out of him faster and faster. “And I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I probably should have told you when it was just you and me, not in front of your mom and dad. I don’t expect you to say it back or anything-”

You cut him off with a hand on his cheek. He startles into silence, eyes searching yours. You hope he can see what you feel, but just in case, you scratch a little at his beard.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask, leaning closer to him.

Robby’s mouth quirks up into a smile before he nods, one hand wrapping around the back of your head to pull you to him.

His lips are warm and soft, his beard tickling against your skin. You don’t care. You’ve never kissed anyone like this before. Hell, you’ve never really kissed anyone before.

And Robby knows what he’s doing. His fingers tangle into your hair and his tongue probes into your mouth. You open for him with a gasp, drawing closer and closer until you’re straddling him in his chair. You feel almost lightheaded, but you don’t want to stop.

One of Robby’s arms wraps around your waist, and you can feel him, hard and ready underneath you. You tentatively grind your hips against him and he hisses at the friction.

“Let’s slow down, pretty girl,” he murmurs into your ear. “We’ve got time.”

You groan, not wanting to stop, but also knowing he’s probably right. You don’t have to rush things. You’re married. It’s just that now, you get to find out what that really means.

Even as he tries to slow you down, he doesn’t try to get you to move off him. He seems content to hold you in his lap, sipping wine, for as long as you want. His hands don’t stop moving, stroking your thighs, your hips, your back, like he’s been waiting for permission.

You let your head fall to his shoulder, reveling in the feeling of his hands on your body, the smell of his soap. The sensation combines with the fuzzy sweetness of the wine, and soon enough, you’re falling asleep.

You’re vaguely aware of Robby carrying you upstairs in the dim light of dusk, but you just nuzzle further into his neck, mumbling sleepily. He sets you down on the bed and tucks you in, but before he can leave, you grab at his hand.

“Will you stay?” Your eyelids still feel heavy, but you manage to open them to see Robby staring down at you, dark eyes warm and gentle. “Please?”

“Of course, I will.” He goes to sit in the chair across the room, but you squeeze his hand harder until he understands. He climbs into bed beside you, arm wrapping tightly around your waist as you sink back into sleep with your husband for the first time.

—

When you wake up in the morning, the bed beside you is empty and cold. You pad downstairs, but the kitchen is quiet and Robby is nowhere to be seen. You didn’t know he was working today, and you’re surprised he didn’t at least leave a note.

Trying not to read too much into it, you make yourself some coffee and go outside to sit on the patio. It’s a beautiful, sunny day, and you have nothing planned except maybe sending out a few more job applications.

By noon, Robby hasn’t even texted, which is strange. He usually checks in when he gets a minute, but you check your phone and there’s nothing.

You know it’s probably just your anxiety talking, but you’re getting a very strange feeling, and the only thing you can think of to deal with it is to go to the hospital and see if you can find him.

The Pitt is always busy. When you walk through the doors of the waiting room, people are standing, lined up against the walls. It’s hot and noisy and you think about turning back, but Lupe spots you and waves you forward.

“Go on through, honey.”

You hear some grumbling from the people around you, but you push through the doors at the sound of the buzz. 

It’s even more chaotic inside the ER, with people rushing around to different rooms and beds. Your mom is right there, in the middle of it all, directing traffic. She’s focused on the board above her when you approach, but as soon as she sees you, she smiles.

“Well, hi there, sweetheart. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

You give her a hug and try not to look too obvious when you start looking for Robby. “Just thought I’d come in and see you.”

“Always happy to see you, but we’re a bit swamped today.” When you look back at her, she smiles knowingly. “Your husband’s around somewhere, but be warned. He’s in a mood today.”

Your heart sinks. Something is wrong. You knew it.

Robby appears from a room, rubbing sanitizer into his hands. He’s talking to someone, McKay, you think her name is. She nods and heads for a computer, while Robby makes a beeline for your mom. He doesn’t even notice you’re there until he’s already at the counter.

“Oh. Hi.”

“Hi.” Your heart is racing, and you wish you could stop it. This is Robby. He’s been so kind to you, so generous, so gentle. You have nothing to be afraid of.

“Why are you here? Are you okay?” He doesn’t get closer, doesn’t move to touch you. His voice sounds different. More distant than usual.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just thought I’d visit and see everyone.”

He frowns. “Not really a great time for that. Probably best if you just head home.” He turns on his heel and walks off, like you’re just an acquaintance he hardly knows. Like you aren’t his wife. Like you didn’t kiss him yesterday and fall asleep in his arms.

You can feel tears clogging your throat, and you blink hard to hold them back. Your mom rests a hand on your shoulder. You know you can’t look at her or you’ll burst into tears.

“McKay, you want to take my daughter to get a cup of coffee?” she asks, and McKay looks up. Whatever she sees on your face, she nods and walks over, smiling gently.

“Don’t take it personally,” she says quietly as you walk towards the break room. “He’s been extra grumpy all day. It’s not you. He’s just like that sometimes.” She pauses, looking thoughtful. “Less often lately.”

You shrug, not sure what to say to that. It’s comforting to know that he’s been less “grumpy” lately, but you’re sure his mood today has something to do with you. Wracking your brain, you think back to what happened. Sure, you kissed him first, but he didn’t exactly push you away. Does he regret it? Does he find you repulsive?

“Hey, have some coffee and relax. I’m sure it can’t be easy, being married to him, but he really has seemed happier since you came into the picture.” She pushes a cardboard cup into your hands and you add a splash of cream and sugar, since you know this coffee is not good enough to be consumed black.

“How has it been going?” McKay asks, sitting down at the little table across from you. “With Robby, I mean.”

“Fine,” you answer honestly, though you aren’t sure if it’s true anymore. “He’s been teaching me to cook, and it hasn’t really been that hard. Living together and all that.”

McKay looks surprised. “He’s not an easy man to know, but I’m glad he has you.”

Nodding, you look down at your coffee. “Thanks. I’m not sure he agrees.”

She squeezes your arm. “He will. It just sometimes takes him a minute.”

Samira pops her head into the room. “Cassie, can you come out here please? One of your patients is upset and won’t talk to anyone but you.”

She smiles at you one more time before leaving with Samira. You sip at your coffee before realizing you should probably get out of here. You start towards the central hub, but you hear raised voices from the hallway behind you and pause.

“It was your idea for me to marry her, remember?” Robby. He sounds angry.

“Yes, because I thought you’d be kind to her. Let her work, let her be herself. Not treat her like she’s nothing. What happened? You two were fine yesterday.” Of course your mom had to poke at him about this. She never misses anything, and you are her youngest daughter. She’s bound to be a little protective.

“Nothing happened. I just need to focus, and not on my so-called wife.”

“You watch yourself, Robinavitch. That’s my little girl you’re talking about.”

“What do you want from me? I married her, despite my reservations. Now she’s stuck with me, and I’m stuck with her. That’s it.”

You force yourself to start moving again before they emerge from the hall, pushing out the doors to go back the way you came.

You knew it. He does regret marrying you. Of course he does. 

And you were so desperate yesterday. No wonder he’s turned on you. You acted like a needy little girl, pawing at him, pushing him. If he wants you to leave him alone, that’s what you’ll have to do, even though this time yesterday, you thought you were finally going to get to have the romance you always dreamed of.

You shut yourself in your room and let yourself cry, out of view of everyone. You might be married, but you’re alone. Again.

—

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