The First Rule by Nicole S. Goodin

16

Ryan

I’m runningout of patience, fucking fast.

Two weeks have passed since Rebel was rude as hell to Darcy and disrespected me, and she’s still yet to acknowledge that she stepped over the line.

Actually, fuck that, she didn’t just step over the line – she sprinted over it, wearing one of those pairs of heels that leave permanent dents in the floorboards.

Darcy hasn’t been back to R&R’s with me since then, she hasn’t outright said that she doesn’t want to, but she’s made up excuse after excuse to get out of it. We’ve been here for dinner a dozen times without issue, but that one time with Rebel would be enough to put anyone off.

Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

Rebel strolls into our office, her focus on her iPad as she taps away. “We need to get the dinner menu updated so I can send the proof to the printer.”

I couldn’t give a flying fuck about the menu. She knows what needs to be done, the fact that we’re still going back and forth over it, arguing about what the final decision will be – something we never do – is just further fuel to the fire already smouldering away between us.

“Just add whatever you want,” I mutter.

She sighs heavily. “Can you not? I know what will happen. I’ll add it and then in a few days when we get it back from the printer, you’ll bitch and moan that I didn’t listen to you.”

“Then add what I want and save yourself the argument later,” I suggest.

I’m being a wanker, I know I am, but she’s being a bitch. So I figure fair’s fair.

She sets the iPad firmly on her desk and turns to glare at me. “Alright, I’m sick of this shit – let’s just have it out once and for all and then we can get back to being friends because I’m tired and I do not have the patience for your moodiness today.”

“That’s a bit rich coming from you.”

She’s barking up the wrong fucking tree. If she wants a fight, she’s damn well going to get one. I’m not a patient man at the best of times, and these are far from the best of times.

“Say what you want to say, Ryan, stop beating around the bush.”

“It’s called tact, and you could learn a thing or two about having some,” I fire back.

She doesn’t reply, just stands there, hands on her hips, her brow raised in challenge. It’s infuriating.

Fine. She wants a reality check, I’ll give her one.

“You were a complete bitch to Darcy the other night. You were so rude it embarrassed me.”

Her expression changes, and for just a flash of a second, I see hurt before it’s quickly replaced with irritation.

“Are you seriously still upset about that?”

Is she for real?

The stack of papers about our liquor license leave my hands and go flying across the room. “Yes, I’m still upset!” My voice thunders, almost making the small space shake.

She opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off. “You disrespected not only me, but the woman I love too, and I don’t know how the fuck you can justify the behaviour in that head of yours.”

“It wasn’t my intention.”

“Bullshit. You knew exactly what you were doing. It’s what you always do – come at people with that arrogance and attitude, acting like you’re better than everyone else.”

I regret it the moment I say it – it might be how she’s dealt with Darcy, but it’s not a fair statement about her character in general. I’m hitting below the belt.

“Tell me how you really feel,” she deadpans, obvious hurt in her eyes now.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Sounds like I deserve it.”

“I went too far.”

She drops her hands from her hips and falls into her chair. “I did too.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I shouldn’t have been such a bitch.”

“No shit,” I reply, the fight leaving me now that she’s lost the bullshit bravado.

It’s silent for a few beats between us. I know Rebel is trying to find the right words. She’s not the best at admitting her fuck-ups, but I can see she’s trying.

“I don’t know why I was so hard on her. I guess I’m just scared that she’s going to hurt you again. I’ve seen the way she crushed you, Ry. I don’t want to see it again.”

“That wasn’t her fault. She’s never set out to hurt me.”

“I know,” she replies on an exhale.

That’s the first time I’ve ever heard her admit that out loud. For years, she’s blamed Darcy. I think she just wanted someone to blame for my pain – and Darcy was where the finger got pointed when blaming my brother wasn’t satisfying enough.

“I’ll admit, she seems nice, but she’s broken, you know that, right? I can see it in her eyes.”

“Everyone is a little broken, that’s life. Find me someone who says they aren’t, and I’ll make a liar out of them.”

She nods slowly, in contemplation and agreement.

“You’re dealing with a heart you didn’t break, Ryan.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? My brother screwed her over. On the day of that wedding, she was a shell of the woman I once met, but she’s back, Rebel, she’s still in there, and every day I see more and more of her. We’re healing each other.”

She meets my eyes and I finally see acceptance in there. “Okay.”

“Okay, you’ll stop being so hard on her?”

“I’ll stop.”

“Promise?”

“Want to pinky swear or can we just skip that part and go straight to the pillow fights and hair braiding?” she says with a roll of her eyes.

I smirk. She’s an absolute fucking nightmare sometimes, but she always knows how to make me laugh.

“I am sorry,” she says, her sincerity ringing true. “I know I was hard on her. I’ll apologise. It was that time of the month and –”

I make a show of covering my ears. “Special time, got it.”

I chuckle and duck the balled-up bit of paper she throws at me.

“You’re going to be having a baby soon, a little bit of shedding of uterine walls is the least of your worries.”

I grimace at her choice of words, but she’s not wrong either.

“I’ll talk to her when I get a chance. I know you’ve been avoiding this place and that’s on me. I’ll make it right.”

“I hope you can, because she means a lot to me, and I love you, you know I do. But she wins. In any situation, any contest... she wins.”

She nods in sad understanding. Rebel might not have found the right man for her yet, but she will one day, and then she’ll understand where I’m coming from. I’ll remind her of this when that day comes. It might make it sting a little less.

“Would you get out of here already; the meeting finished an hour ago, and I’m sure you’ve got better things to do tonight.”

I don’t need to be told twice.

I get up out of my seat. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

* * *

I can’t quite putmy finger on it, but I know that something isn’t quite right with Darcy at the moment. She seems on edge.

She’s fine when we’re at home together, but it’s as though she’s seeking solace in my arms for some reason. It’s not that I mind; spending a couple of days in bed and on the couch, wrapped around her is my idea of a perfect time, but if something is wrong, I’d rather know – but she insists she’s fine.

‘Fine’ – I swear to god, ‘fine’ is where reassurance goes to die.

I push the thought out of my mind. I’ll deal with it later, right now I have to finish getting everything set up in the nursery before Darcy gets back.

I had Steph come and pick her up under the pretence of a girls’ afternoon getting their nails done or some shit, when really it was all a carefully constructed ruse to get her out of the house so I could finally get all this baby crap into the house and set up.

My designer, Tia, gave me a foolproof layout that she put together a couple of weeks ago, after I got hold of Darcy’s wish list from the baby store nearby. We got everything on the list and one of everything else for good measure it would seem. I’m starting to wonder if there’s anything left in that store or if it’s all at my house now.

I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to pull this off, but with a lot of help from the store to assemble the furniture in their storage room, and a moving company that went the extra mile, it’s all in here. It might not be styled to perfection like Tia instructed, but it’s not bad for a guy with little to no home decorating skills.

I chuck the cream, knitted blanket over the side of the cot. That wasn’t on Darcy’s ever-so-practical list, but it’s one of the seemingly endless items that Tia added to my shopping cart without bothering to ask for my input.

She knows the drill by now. She helped me ‘put together’ my whole house, because according to Rebel, a couch, fridge and a TV weren’t sufficient and I needed help. I still don’t see the purpose of decorative cushions or little random things that do nothing, sitting on the shelves, but whatever – they add to the aesthetic apparently.

I stand back in the doorway and admire my handiwork for a moment. It’s not bad – I’ll give myself that. It looks like one of those nurserys you see in the baby magazines. No doubt it won’t look quite so composed once there’s actually a little person living in here, but for now at least, it’s pretty perfect.

I can’t believe that in a matter of months I’ll be a father. That a baby who will eventually call me ‘Dad’ will be getting his or her nappy changed on that change table, and sleeping in that cot.

I know it’ll be a while before the wooden blocks are being played with, or the stories are being understood, but I can’t wait. I can’t wait for every single second of it.

I snap a picture of the room and send it to Tia’s cell.

She replies almost instantly with a ‘not bad’. That’s pretty high praise from her. It’s quickly followed by an instruction to change the angle of the chair in the corner because it’s ‘making her eye twitch’ but other than that, I pass with flying colours, and not a moment too soon as I hear the front door open, and Darcy and Steph’s voices fill the house.

I smile as Darcy laughs at something Steph is saying. I love that sound. I could listen to it all day. I haven’t heard it much lately, so rather than rushing out to meet her, I stand and listen for a while.

“Ryan?” she eventually calls out. “You here?”

“In the nursery,” I call out with a grin.

She’s going to shit the bed when she sees this. I just know it.

I cross the room and plant my ass in the rocking chair that’s facing the door – now at the correct angle – so I’ll have the perfect view of her reaction when she walks in the door.

I can hear Steph making some excuse about why she has to leave, and as much as I like Steph, I’m grateful that she’s letting us have this time alone.

I hear the front door open and shut again then I listen for her quiet footsteps as she comes down the hallway towards the room.

It’s the closest bedroom to mine – ours – and it gets the best afternoon sun, like right now as the light streams in the window.

“How was your – woah...”

Her eyes widen as she glances around the room, her jaw dropped open.

“Surprise.” I grin.

“I... what... when...” she stutters, still looking at everything that wasn’t here when she left earlier today. “How?” she finally says.

“I had a little help,” I admit.

She steps into the room and walks slowly towards the cot. She runs her hand gently over the soft blanket hanging on the side.

“It’s the one I liked at the store.”

I was hoping she’d say that. It wasn’t the one on her list – this one was almost twice the price, but I remember how many times she looked at it when we walked past, so I took the risk and got it for us.

“I know. I got all the things you liked. But if there’s anything that isn’t right, we can take it back and get something else.”

“Shut up,” she surprises me by saying.

I stand and she steps towards me. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

She looks like she’s in shock. I hope I haven’t done the wrong thing by doing this without her.

I shrug. “I wanted to surprise you. I know you’ve been stressed lately, and I wanted to do something special.”

“I’m definitely surprised,” she breathes.

“Do you like it? If you don’t we can – ”

“It’s the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen,” she interrupts me, her eyes still travelling around the space. “I love it, I just can’t believe you did all this.”

Relief floods through me. She likes it.

“I did have to resort to blackmail and bribery,” I tease as I reach for her, pulling her chest against mine.

A smile graces her lips. “Who have you been blackmailing?”

“Steph – I needed her to take you out all day... and Sophie from the baby store. I had to convince her to give me the list of everything. And then my designer Tia chose everything else and planned the layout – but she charges a small fortune for her time, so if anything, I’d say she actually blackmailed me.”

“You have a designer?”

“Yeah, she did the whole place for me.”

Her smile grows wider. I don’t understand why that pleases her so much.

I feel my brow furrow in confusion – my expression asking the question before my words get a chance.

“It’s just the first time I came here... I remember thinking that the place was so well put together. It felt like a woman had been here. I was too scared to ask if you’d had a girlfriend or whatever live here before me. I’m still not sure I want to know the answer to that. I’m not sure I could have lived with myself if me turning up pregnant ruined your relationship or something.”

I tuck a rogue strand of hair behind her ear and look down at her with a smile. It’s not funny, but I can’t help but feel amused at her worries.

As ifthere was anyone I’d rather have had than her.

“There’s been no one but you, Darce. Other than Rebel, I haven’t had a woman in this house for a long time.”

She bites back a smile.

“I know it’s not fair of me to like that... but I do,” she admits. “I was all set to marry your brother, yet I don’t like the idea of you having a life before ours got thrown together... go figure.” She rolls her eyes at herself.

She’s not entirely wrong, it’s a little ironic and unreasonable, but I don’t care. She can be as unreasonable as she likes – she’s carrying my child. Little does she know that there has been no one of any significance in my life since the day I met her. I’ve tried to fall in love again, I really have. I’ve persisted where I should have given up – I’ve tried. I’ve met some amazing women who under different circumstances probably could have made me very happy, but I never got over Darcy. I’m not sure I ever really wanted to get over her. And now I know why.

If I’d truly moved on, if I’d managed to get over her the way I probably should have, I never would have even turned up to their wedding, let alone found my way into the bridal suite and then inside the bride.

I smirk at my crass line of thought. It’s morbid and twisted, but I don’t give a fuck. She’s mine now, and that’s all that matters.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks me curiously. It’s only then that I see she’s watching me – watching my mind tick in a way that only she seems to have a knack for. It’s as though she can hear my thoughts as they cross my mind.

“I was just thinking about being inside you.”

Her beautiful blue eyes light up. “You’re thinking about getting your dick wet, in our baby’s nursery.” She tsks at me.

I chuckle. “Oh, princess, it’s not just in here, I think about it in all the other rooms too.”

She giggles and smacks my chest lightly. “You’re the worst.”

“Here I was, thinking I was the best,” I quip.

Her cheeks heat, and I can tell by her reaction that I’m bang on the money. I’m the best she’s ever had and I’m more than happy about that.

She sidles closer, her arms tightening around my middle. Whatever stress I was picking up over the past few days, it’s long gone now.

“So you love it?” I murmur as I lower my face towards hers.

“Almost as much as I love you,” she replies against my lips.

I slant my mouth over hers, our tongues duelling, right there in the middle of our baby’s room.