Pregnant After One Night With The Lycan By Kellie Brown
Chapter 52 Neighbor
Tanya’s POV:
Some part of me is hoping for a different reaction from my past love, maybe some form of acknowledgment that would change everything. But hope is often a feeble thing, that can be harshly shattered by the realities of life. This cruel reality crushes my expectations and longing, as Marco completely blanks me. His glares daggers into my heart as he turns away and moves into the next door house.
Not wanting my daughter to see my misplaced feelings, I take Claire’s hand and head into our home. I prep dinner, and we eat whilst she tells me all about her day. I always love listening to her stories of what she got up to. And despite the lingering desire to speak to the man next door, I remain enthusiastic and present in our conversations.
Later however, as I’m washing the dishes, I hear a loud sound coming from Marco’s house. Recalling Lisa’s request, my eyes widen with realization. With Claire, we rush out the door and into the other. The bathroom light is on, and I hear Marco cursing in clear annoyance.
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Fearing the worst, I rush into the bathroom, only to be halted in stunned realization. Marco is completely n@ked from top to bottom. He’s stood in the shower, covered in foam with soapy bubbles in his hair. I quickly avert my eyes immediately, my cheeks growing red with an apparent blush. My daughter on the other hand isn’t as afraid or ashamed to state the obvious.
“Daddy’s n@ked!”
While taking short quick glances, I notice Marco’s expressionless stare, although, hidden beneath is a slowly formulating glare of anger? embarra*s*sment? I couldn’t tell. But in response, I hurry to cover my daughters’ eyes, who childishly struggles to try to remove my fingers, thinking it is just a silly game.
Still looking at the floor, I speak to Marco. “I can fix it for you. I think the pipe is blocked…” I know the pipe is blocked. Marco stares at me for a moment, a long silence held in the air, till I hear him sigh, recognizing he is putting aside his pride despite his dislike for me at the moment. “Fix it then,” is all he mutters.
I leave Claire in the living room, quickly grabbing my tools from next door, before returning. By then, Marco has stepped out of the shower, and wrapped a towel round his waist. He’s still drenched in soap however, so I try not to stare whilst stepping past his muscular chest. If only he knew how often I ran my hands down through his abs, how much I admired his strength.
I snap myself out of the naughty daydream, and one by one I take out the tools needed for the specified task, staying silent whilst working away at fixing the pipe, whilst very aware that Marco is watching me carefully.
1 Sweat and grime grace my fingertips as precipitation dribbles down my forehead. I unclog the pipe from any residue that’s preventing waterflow, while also mending the small cracks in its piping. The bathroom definitely needs a new pipework system, but that isn’t my problem to fix. It just needs to be mended so Marco can have a decent shower, and not be left drenched in soap.
Eventually, the job gets done. I put my tools away and wash my hands under the sink whilst speaking. “That should keep it in place for the time being. But I’d recommend not showering for too long and keeping it on the colder settings,” I say with a sheepish smile. Marco only nods his head, and I can’t help but notice that he appears rather impressed with my handiwork. Course he doesn’t say this, but his gaze isn’t so cold anymore.
We then leave Marco to finish his shower, and Claire and I head home. It is already pretty late, so I help my daughter get into her pj’s and help her fall asleep. I read her one of the bedtime stories we borrowed from the library, before switching off the lights for the night.
I rub her back gently as time slowly escapes us. I’m starting to fall asleep when her little voice rings out sleepily through the darkness. “Mommy, it’s raining outside,” just then, a loud thunderclap causes the house to shudder. It f*orc*es me awake, I get up to take a look out the window, watching the heavy rain stream down the glass pane.
But exactly at this moment, I realize that the house Marco is renting out has terrible leaks in it.
Just his luck…
I rush back to Marco’s house for a second time tonight, pushing through the door I find my shoes stepping onto murky grim carpet that is now soaked. I move quickly, pushing the door to his room as I hear the clear sound of running water, almost sounding like a river or stream. It feels like a scene out of a comedy film, as I enter to find buckets, pots and pans littered about the room in an attempt to isolate the rainwater. However, the bed couldn’t be saved, as a ma*s*sive leaking from above is pulling water onto it, accumulating into a ma*s*sive puddle that is causing the mattress to sink.
Despite the straight line on his lips, the veins on his forehead or highly visible through w*et blonde pieces of hair. And his eyes seem bloodshot, tired and clearly overwhelmed. His clothes are drenched, as are some of his belongings that he has unpacked. Despite seeing me, he chooses not to speak, as his silence illustrates his hidden fury at his circumstances.
In his depressed looking state, I can’t help but find the image of him amusing. It was not often that I saw Marco in a situation where he’s at a complete loss of what to do. He was usually always on top of things. And for once, despite never willing to admit it, I can tell he needs help. Even though it is humorous, I don’t want to further damage his pride. I silently get to work. I pull out one of the chairs and set it underneath the leaky ceiling, taking a minute to study the situation, and what was causing the ceiling panel to fall loose.
Till a loud clap of thunder surprises me. I can’t help but flinch in surprise, unintentionally wobbling the chair beneath me. I’m unable to regain my balance, and with little time to react, I find myself falling backwards to the pull of gravity.
Thankfully, I’m saved from the fall. I collapse into Marco’s arms who has been standing behind me all this time. My heart can’t help but increase the pace of its pulsing as I feel his strong solid arms beneath me. My pet*ite frame is pressed against his chest, as we lock eyes. And I can’t help but once again drown in his ocean optics that stare back at me.
I must snap myself out of a trance, and hurriedly stand which Marco complies with. We both step out of the swampy room to conversate.
“I won’t be able to properly repair the ceiling till the rain stops, during the day,” I say defeatedly, and Marco sighs in similar discontent. “You’re more than welcome to stay at mine for the night. I can sleep with Claire, and you can sleep on my bed.”
But even before I can finish my sentence, Marco is fiercely shaking his head. But, at the same exact moment, his stomach grumbles loudly. In response I gaze at the kitchen, noticing the messy situation it’s in. The equipment is all old and brittle, and the stove top doesn’t even appear to properly be connected to the gas. I doubt much could be cooked in here.
No way is I leaving Marco here to starve. “Don’t be silly, come on,” I say giggling lightly, gently pushing him out of the house. “One night won’t hurt.”
Despite his protests, he eventually complies and follows me to my house. We are sure to be quiet with Claire asleep, but I get to work making dinner. With the soft sound of the rain filling in our silence, I slice tomatoes with ease, and cover slices of bread with cheese. I then place the tomatoes in a pot with herbs to roast and stew into liquid. Whilst I grill the sandwiches.
In no time, the kitchen is purified with the smell of warm food. I set up a bowl for the tomato soup and plates for the sandwiches for the both of us. Marco is clearly hungry because he eats in silence.
“This is nostalgic,” he says nodding his head, whilst wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“Nostalgic?” I ask curiously.
“Yeah, reminds me of time I’ve had this before. Just can’t remember when sadly. Either way. You know what you’re doing in the kitchen,” there’s no elevation to his tone, still a detached sensation to his words, so I can’t really tell if he’s complimenting me. Nevertheless, I’m glad he’s fed. So, all I mumble is a quiet “thanks.”
After the trials and tribulations of the night before, where I have been able to help Marco, he no longer seems willing to accuse me of being a vicious woman. Nevertheless, he still remains distant and cold towards me.
I sit uncomfortably with the thought till my daughter arrives home from school. She too appears in despair over something as I watch her pass the house window. I flit to the entrance and open the door and my arms for her to be cradled, aware she’s been crying.
“What’s wrong dear?”
“Why don’t I have a dad like all the other kids!”
I pet her head gently, ultimately sad that I couldn’t offer her any true answer. So, I just allow her to continue to explain what is on her mind. “The Family Day Event is coming up at school, and all the kids are teasing me for not having a dad! I got so angry mummy! So, I made a bet with my cla*s*smates that daddy would attend the event! So, when is he coming back mummy?”
My eyes widen in a mixture of sadness and insecurity over how to answer or address my young one. At that very moment, Marco is walking towards the house. My daughter turns to him suddenly, with fresh tears in her eyes. “Are you, my daddy? Can you come to my school’s family day?”