"I'm not manipulating you… Why won't you answer the question?" I was suddenly on a singular quest.
"Why don't you answer my question? Okay? You tell me what the hell difference it would make if I did love you? Tell me that. Huh?" His face was turning red and his hands were moving all over the place. Unless it involved a sporting event or gambling, I had never seen him agitated, let alone angry or upset.
For a second, I was enchanted by the intensity of his reaction, as well as the word love coming from him. It was the closest he had ever come to telling me that he had real feelings for me. But then I pictured Angie and I was straight back to being furious. "Well, if you do love me, then what about Angie?" I pointed at the door, where my weak competition had exited. "Why was she here? Who is she, anyway?"
"She's nobody," he said.
"If she's such a nobody," I asked, "then why were you going to have sex with her?"
I expected a denial, but instead he looked at me defiantly.
" Were you going to have sex with her?" I asked.
He waited several beats, and then said, "Yup. Matter of fact, that was the plan."
I delivered a solid punch to his shoulder. My hand hurt, but he didn't flinch.
"You're such an asshole," I said. "I hate you so much!"
He gave me a blank stare and said, "Just go, Darcy. Leave now. This is over. We're done. I'll see you at your wedding."
I could tell he meant it. I was stunned, simply couldn't believe it would all end like this. "Is that what you really want?"
He spit out a disdainful laugh. "Has this ever been about anything other than what you want?"
"Oh, puh-lease," I said. "As if you haven't been enjoying every second of it."
"Sure. It's been fun," he said flippantly.
"That's it? Fun?"
"Yeah. Fun. A blast. A real joyride. The time of my life," Marcus said. "What do you want me to say? What do you want from me?"
I considered the question and answered it honestly. "I want you to want me. For more than just fun. For more than just great sex. I want you to want me for real."
He sighed, laughed, and shook his head. "Okay, Darce, I want you. I want you. I want you all to myself. Are you happy now?"
Before I could answer, he turned the corner into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. I waited a minute before I followed him, finding the door unlocked. He was leaning against his sink in the dark. From the light in the hall, I could see his face in the mirror. He looked sad, and that both surprised and softened me.
"Yes," I said quietly.
"Yes what?"
"Yes to your question. I am happy that you want me," I said. "And I love you too."
He gave me a disarmed look. I had my answer. Marcus loved me. I felt a rush of joy—a feeling of triumph and passion. "I'm calling off the wedding," I finally said.
More silence.
"Did you hear what I said?"
"I heard you."
"What do you think of that?"
"Are you sure you wanna do that?"
"Yes. I'm sure."
In truth, I wasn't at all sure, but it was the first moment I could actually picture doing it—cutting the long, safe cord with Dex and starting a new life. Maybe it took seeing Marcus with someone else and realizing that we were over in a matter of days if I didn't make a choice. Maybe it was watching him lean against his bathroom sink with those sad brown eyes. Maybe it was hearing him use the word love. And maybe it was the fact that the emotional ante had been so raised, I had nowhere else to go but there. It would have been anticlimactic to say anything else.
Moments later, Marcus and I were having intense, condomless sex.
"I'm going to come," Marcus finally breathed, after I had twice.
"Two more seconds," I said, crouching over him.
"Move now. I mean it."
So I moved harder, right down on him, not caring that I was in the middle of my cycle, probably at the most perilous millisecond of the month.
"What are you doing?" he shouted, his eyes wide and scared. "You wanna get pregnant?"
At that instant, it seemed like a great idea—the perfect romantic solution. "Why not?"
He gave me a half-smile and told me I was crazy.
"Crazy for you," I said.
"Don't ever do that again," he said. "I mean it."
"Okay, Daddy," I said, although I really didn't think we had hit the jackpot with our effort. There had been plenty of times in my life—especially in college—when I forgot to take my pill or hadn't been careful enough. But I had never gotten pregnant. In fact, part of me believed that I couldn't get pregnant. Which suited me just fine. When the time came, I would just hop on a plane and pick up a baby in China or Cambodia. Like Nicole Kidman or Angelina Jolie. And presto, I'd become a glam mom with my perfect body intact.
"That's not funny," Marcus said, smiling. "Go do something. Wash up or pee or something, would you?"
"No way," I said, tucking my legs underneath me, the technique my high school friend Annalise described using while she and her husband were trying to have a baby. "Swim, you little spermies, swim!"
Marcus laughed and kissed my nose. "You freak."
"Yes, but you love me," I said. "Say it again."