I swallow hard and nod.
“How?”
I jerk my gaze to him, my eyes wide. “I’m not going to spell it out.”
“Then I’m going to spell it out in great detail because I want to be certain you’re fully informed about every aspect of sexuality. If you already know some parts, great. If you don’t, you’ll learn.” He strokes my hair back with one hand, cupping my head with the other.
I sigh and roll my eyes. “Adam, I know you have a penis and it goes in my vagina and something comes out of it that can put a baby in me.”
“That’s right. Are your periods regular, sweetheart?”
I inhale deeply, mortified. My mother spoke to me a handful of times about menstruation and how to make babies. It’s not the sort of thing I ever pictured discussing with another living person, even if he is my husband.
“No secrets, Rebekah.”
“Sheesh,” I breathe out. “I don’t have a period very often. I think it’s because I’m small.”
“That’s probably true. When you gain some weight, you’ll become more regular. Did you see the pads and tampons on the bed earlier?”
“Yes,” I whisper. Is he done yet?
“I’ve put them in the bathroom. Have you ever used tampons?”
“No.”
“When did you last have a period?”
“Adam!” I twist to the side, trying to avoid him, but he has me caged in.
“Rebekah, sweetheart, you’re my wife. I will know every intimate thing about you. Do you think you could have a period and I wouldn’t find out?”
I nod.
“Well, you won’t. I intend to be all up in your business, sweetheart. Once I’ve been inside your body, we’ll be doing that regularly. At least once a day. The moment you have a cramp, I’ll know. When you bleed, I’ll see it on your panties. When you need pads or tampons, I’ll get you more.” His voice dips. “And, Rebekah, when you miss a period, I will know that, too. What does it mean if you stop having a period?”
I draw in a deep breath. “That I’m pregnant.” A shudder wracks my body.
“How do you feel about getting pregnant?”
I frown. “What difference does it make?” Especially if he intends to put his thingy in me every day. That part has been so stunning, I’m struggling to focus.
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
I turn my face to his. He’s so bossy. But also really kind about it. He’s not exasperated with me. He simply wants me to be informed about things I never expected to discuss with any man, not even my husband.
“Good girl. Do you know how people prevent pregnancy?”
“No.” Is that a thing?
“There are several ways. One is that a woman can take a daily pill or get an injection that keeps her body from releasing an egg every month. Without the egg, there is nothing for the man’s sperm to latch onto.”
“Oh.”
“But easier than that is a product called condoms. They look like balloons before they are inflated. A man puts one over his cock so that when he ejaculates, his semen is trapped in the tip of the balloon and doesn’t go into the woman. It’s not one hundred percent effective because condoms can break or fall off, but it’s better than nothing.”
My brain is overloaded. I don’t know what he’s saying. Then it dawns on me. “You don’t want to have a baby with me?” My voice is shaky, and tears gather in the corners of my eyes. My lips start trembling. Why doesn’t he want to have a baby with me?
He flinches, his brow furrowing. “You totally misunderstood, sweetheart. That’s not what I meant. At all. I want to have as many babies with you as you’d like. The thought of you round with my child makes me ache inside. I can’t wait for that. I can’t wait for your milk to come in so I can bring you our babies in the night and watch you nurse them. I can’t wait to help you pump the excess milk when the baby doesn’t finish it. I want all of that with you.”
