8027 words (32 minute read)

Terms and Trent Weatherby

3.

The book felt heavy on her lap as the bus maneuvered through the new city. It felt so odd being anywhere other than at The Core. Doing anything other than what she usually did. Today was her last day of freedom and she decided that she would not waste it on reading materials; she would not waste it on mandates and rules and... She would not waste it. The others on the bus read quietly to themselves, many of them flipping through the pages in nonchalance. The window drew her gaze soon after, and Donna stared past the tint as the bus navigated the colorful streets of Paradise.

Paradise.

She scoffed aloud.

Paradise would only be a temporary stop for her. She would only be here until her child was old enough to start school. And then she would return to The Core and raise it to do the same as she was now. As she thought of her own future, it made her wonder where her mother was going. The retired parents were supposedly sent to small cities in The Shell to live out the rest of their lives as they wished. Her mother had served her time and she was hopefully happy where she was now.

The hotel loomed at the corner of a block that had no exit; there was a circular driveway that lead back to the main road-- but behind it ended whatever side of the town they were on. The hotel was a six story building and very plain. Behind it was an abnormal amount of forestry and the tips of a high fence peeked over the tops of the trees. Donna couldn’t imagine the hotel ever having visitors aside from Core officials and the usual slew of newlyweds consummating their new marriages. The bus unloaded at a snail’s pace, and she holstered her satchel across her shoulder before pulling her overnight bag down to the crook of her elbow.

"Don’t look too excited now..." A female voice startled her from behind. The girl had chocolate skin and short, curly hair. She extended her hand for Donna to shake. "...Tanya Rhodes," Donna shook her hand and adjusted her satchel. "Donna Meadows, nice to meet you." Tanya walked into the hotel at her side, and they got rooms on the same floor as did all the new arrivals.

"I’ve never seen you around The Core." Tanya said it as they approached the elevator. Donna shrugged. "I guess that is a bit odd. I’ve never met any of the people on the bus before." Given, Donna hadn’t been as social as other people her age were before leaving home. Tanya nodded, and a slow smile spread across her cheeks as she pressed the button to the third floor.

"I guess we just run in different circles."

The ’ding’ of the elevator made Donna jump, and she walked out with Tanya on her heels. "So what will you do today? Last day as a single woman and all." There was a tone to Tanya’s voice that clicked with Donna, finally, it was one of attraction. Donna relaxed as they approached her room, and she set her things down and leaned against the door frame. She shouldn’t have assumed that everyone on the bus was heterosexual. "I’m not quite sure. Something different, maybe." Tanya bit her lip and threw a glance down the hallway as others approached their own rooms. "I’m in 310 if you get lonely." Tanya left with a smirk and Donna let herself into her room.

***


The view from her hotel room was magnificent. She opened the windows to let the August air swelter in, and she leaned against the sill in hopes of catching the atmosphere. It was still early enough for Donna to venture out into town, but the approaching clouds put those thoughts to rest quickly. She could see the main street from her perch, and the colorful buildings reminded her that this place was foreign; and the rules were different. Color felt taboo in her usual monochrome life. The gray had seeped into her mood and she had been indifferent to all the wonders she had unknowingly been missing in The Core.

Although she knew nothing of Paradise, the environment made her feel welcomed. Everything was warm and bright and she marveled in the pallet that the splash of color gave her. The marriage manual was tossed haphazardly on the hotel room bed, forgotten in haste by the mural painted by the new city-- by the color and the vibrancy of her temporary home. She left it there. The clouds moved swiftly over Paradise and the first fall of rain pelted against the sill of the open window.

Donna loved the smell of rain; it never changed.

The sporadic droplets turned into a steady leak, and Donna closed the screen and sat at the sole chair in her room. Thoughts of Tanya down the hall flittered across her mind but she hesitated; unsure how to proceed. In The Core, experimentation was always encouraged. In Paradise, however, Donna didn’t know the rules. All she knew was that she would be matched with a suitable mate. She didn’t know what infidelity resulted in here. She looked toward the manual again, torn between educating herself and staying ignorant. If it was her last day free, and she shouldn’t waste it.

She grabbed her satchel with her hotel room key inside and made her way down the hall. Donna heard the rain against the building as she walked; a thump, splash sound that hummed throughout the hallway. She knocked curtly on the door and waited; after a few moments Tanya was there, a knowing smile played at the corners of her mouth.

"Took you long enough." Tanya pulled her in by her fingertips, and Donna’s back hit the door immediately after. Tanya was aggressive and purposeful. Her hands journeyed across Donna’s skin with a destination in mind. Donna’s head banged against the door when Tanya found it with her fingertips-- the eager bundle of nerves that ached for a certain kind of attention. Tanya flicked over it expertly, dragging her fingers down and rounding them back up each time at the pivot of Donna’s hips.

Donna enjoyed this feeling.

The feeling of a new partner-- the exploration of new avenues of pleasure with a stranger. Marriage seemed foreboding at the thought of her impending match-- at the thought of her loss of newfound sexual freedom. Tanya kissed her out of her thoughts, the stroking of Tanya’s fingers forced Donna back to Earth. Donna was on the verge of satisfaction, Tanya’s mouth bruised sloppy kisses into the crook of Donna’s neck and she swam in the sounds of her own moaning.

Tanya pulled away, reaching for the hem of her own shirt and ripping it up and off her head. Smooth skin and lace beckoned Donna to follow, toward the bed. Donna reached forward for Tanya’s shorts, and tugged them down. She did the same with Tanya’s underwear; inhaling the tangy sweetness of her arousal for the first time. The aroma was uniquely Tanya’s-- a heavy scent dewy and thick in her nostrils. Donna watched contentedly as Tanya held her breath-- she waited a beat before she let her mouth sink down over her. The taste of the woman writhing beneath her was sweet, a savory tang of salt and sweat, a taste that made Donna’s eyes flutter shut with appreciation.

Donna would take her time to bask in the few hours she had before marriage.

***


The rain poured heavily from the darkened sky. Donna was sure as she sat on the window sill in Tanya’s room that the stars were still dazzling behind the clouds. The sounds of rain and the heat made her feel tired. Tanya lay sleeping on the bed-- exhausted from the day’s events. Donna stood naked from the window and she picked up her satchel, digging for pencils and a sketch book.

She started with the curves of Tanya’s body. The slope of her hip as she lay on her side-- unbidden to the world. She followed up with the swell of her breasts as she breathed deeply in sleep. She kept sketching, drawing as true to form as she could in a hurry. By the time she went to put her sketch book away, Tanya was stirring from sleep.

"Were you drawing me?" Donna nodded, sitting on the bed beside her new lover. "It’s something I do sometimes..." Tanya made a noise and sat up against the headboard. "...so I don’t forget people. So when the memory of them fades I have something to remind me of them."

"Do you think you’ll forget me? This place isn’t big enough to hide from me for too long." Tanya teased, letting her finger trace imaginary creatures on Donna’s bare thigh.

Donna shrugged. "I assumed this was a onetime thing..."

"It doesn’t have to be..."

Donna was confused.

"Have you read your marriage manual?" Donna shook her head in reply. Tanya chuckled. "Well...as long as you don’t commiserate with people of the opposite sex; you’re free to participate in casual encounters. Well...if your spouse agrees. It is still marriage after all. Paradise is a city for people with higher than normal fertility rates... you get certain freedoms here that you wouldn’t get in a lower Shell city."

"How do you know that?" Donna was curious. No one ever talked about The Shell-- those who had been there were almost always in different cities before they returned; no two experiences were ever alike. Her teachers used to say it was a precaution. In case things had to change they didn’t want people to have expectations about what happened next.

"My mother is the head of the Territorial Budgeting Committee." Donna furrowed her brow. "Isn’t that a confidential department-- shouldn’t that be well kept information?"

Tanya laughed again, this time with a bit more mirth. "I never said she gave me the information. All I ever had to do was go into her office-- poke around. My job in The Core was to apprentice for my mother. I was hoping that coming to Paradise would start my training to replace my mother. In The Shell, the more children you have, the less restrictions you have. Paradise is a high tier city. Your stipends are bigger-- laws aren’t as strict. In a different city-- say-- the city of Humble-- there are less amenities because most of the citizens sent to Humble are bisexuals with low fertility rates. Are you...straight? Was this your first foray into women?" Tanya’s eyes grew wide, "Are you having a bi-panic--"

"No. I claimed homosexual, actually--"

"You wouldn’t be here at all if you were that, silly. Bisexual then? With a high fertility rate? Still somewhat rare. Usually bisexuals kick out one; at the most two. But if you landed yourself in Paradise...they expect a lot more than two children from you."

Donna felt divided. She still refused to accept her label. It was one she didn’t agree with-- she hadn’t felt the spark with anyone but women for the past year. She had planned on an entirely different life--she had made peace with her homosexuality long before Opt-In... only to have a wrong label thrust upon her. And on top of it all, she hadn’t been sure if she had wanted even one child...but now-- now she was expected to have multiple.

Donna took a breath.

She had never known someone with influential parents—someone with an advantage. She had never known someone privy to information. She focused on the knowledge Tanya had to share.

"Look. I’d say make the best of it. See if you can land a Core job assignment. It’s what I’m shooting for. Live here, have my first child; go back to The Core when my younger brother Opts-In and replace my mother after her retirement. If you can’t do that...you’ll play house with your husband, find a few lovers...pretend like you’re happy. But this is it. This is the best it will get for you until you fulfill your parental obligation. Which for Paradisians...is limited to four children."

Donna sat quietly, in the nude, letting Tanya’s words sink in. She must have had it written on her face, the worry, because Tanya leaned forward with a hand on her shoulder.

"Look, Donna, just...read your marriage manual. There is no life after Paradise unless you have a Core job. And even with that, you still have babies...as many as you can until your body either gets used to it...or until it can’t physically give you anymore. It’s great here-- one of the best places to live in the territories. Where else did you want to go? Where else is there other than The Wild? Nobody ever makes it to The Wild."

Donna shrugged, coughing to get the lump out from her throat.

"I just don’t want a husband. I didn’t think I’d be able to have children. I just wanted to live and love and have choices. I expected freedom."

Tanya shook her head, as if Donna was missing some important piece of the puzzle. "There is no freedom, Donna. You have to accept your assignment. You fulfill your obligation and then you get freedom. If you can call retirement that..."

Tanya knew a lot more than Donna had imagined. Questions rose to her mind like bombs exploding-- each one felt more imminent than the one before it. She took a breath, a shiver climbed her spine in spite of the heat and Donna wrapped the bed sheet around her shoulders.

"Do you know what The Enclosure is like?" Donna asked quietly, wanting to know if she’d be missing out on anything being in Paradise; if she could get used to being somewhere she knew she didn’t belong.

"I know what it is not. It’s not freedom. It’s containment. Budgets don’t even include The Enclosure. It’s like... it’s like what Old America used to call hospice homes. If you’re sent there, they try to tell you it’s a great, fun place that you’ll remember forever...but they keep quiet the fact that you’re going to die there-- and nobody will care when you do because that’s what they expect you to do. The Coalition thinks if they kill everyone who’s a carrier, they’ll eliminate the problem. What happens there is secret for a reason. People who go to The Enclosure don’t come back."

“What about the people that are adopted out?” Donna thought about Richard...if he was being contained.

“Their microprobes…the little bug that follows you everywhere—there is a self-destruct button inside them. Those allowed to return—aren’t allowed to revolt. At any moment they can go kaboom. Someone in your position could adopt—but it’s a process. You have to first make sure they live in The Enclosure. Then you have to make sure they’re still alive; without disease. Put in the paperwork, pay for the transport. And even then-- they’re all threatened to secrecy about what happens there."

Silence enveloped the room. Donna felt the residual pain from her own branding; the skin was swollen and sore to touch--healing where the microchip had penetrated. She swallowed thickly.

"Just read your manual tonight, Donna. It all changes after tonight. Just hope you get a good guy as a mate. You’ll see me around town. Maybe I’ll come find you. Life here can be manageable, you can be happy..."

Donna started gathering her clothes, with all intentions of reading for the rest of the night.

***


On the first page of the manual, there was a disclaimer.

All matches are based upon compatible criteria. Fertility and gene selection are key factors in marriage assignments. Mate selection cannot be petitioned under any circumstance besides death.

And then…

Marriage is as much an obligation as child conception and cannot be abandoned unless parentage is successfully completed to the fullest extent.

Donna shook her head and turned the page, staring at a daunting table of contents. Flipping past it quickly, she read with purpose about the structure of marriage assignments and what factors were used in order to match suitable partners. The second chapter of the book was entitled: Marriage Duties and Parental Obligations. Donna straightened in her seat as she began reading, picking up phrases like, "The minimum amount of child expectancy for any Paradise citizen is four children," and, "Copulation should be regulated to a minimum of twice weekly-- should viable conception not occur within the first three months of marriage, citizens will be subject to perform under administered supervision". In between rules and expectations, Donna found key lines of text that were reminders such as, "Increasing the population is a shared priority-- doing so to the fullest extent is not an option; it is a commitment to the future of our race."

Donna frowned as she kept going, her stomach clenching in knots as she read about the consequences of not conceiving. When she had finished the chapter she left the desk near the window of her room to get water-- her throat suddenly dry. The next few chapters detailed how monetary stipends were commissioned, how employment was assigned and assessed and even how transportation worked around Paradise. The next chapter was one Donna had wanted to read the most. It was simply titled: Paradise Laws and Appropriate Citizen Behaviors.

Donna swallowed thickly.

1. Any act resulting in crime is intolerable. Any citizen tried for any act of violence and found guilty will be imprisoned. Sexual visitations will be administered until conception is achieved. After conception, the guilty party will be sentenced to prison for an appropriate punishment.

Any crime that results in death, loss to population, or terrorism will result in banishment and/or execution by microprobe.

2. Infidelity cannot exist if any person in marriage disagrees with it. Any situation that poses a threat of anger and subsequently retaliation or acts of crime between spouses is restricted. Relationships with the opposite sex are prohibited by law. Mates are matched for compatibility, and cross breeding with any other married (or single) party is punishable by imprisonment. Same sex interaction is acceptable, but only as a supplement to lifestyle labels. Any same sex relationship that interferes with the time line of conception must be eradicated until successful pregnancy.

3. Birth control of any sort shall not be sold, made, used or traded. All prophylactic and life prevention products are banned and any party found with such contraband are subject to a lifetime of imprisonment.

4. Communication devices not assigned by Paradise officials are banned within city limits. Any citizen found with transmitters, cellular phones, "talk watches", or off network devices will be arrested for acts of espionage.

5. Leaving Paradise is an extreme offense. Any citizen that leaves the territory without formal permission will be executed by microprobe.

6. Children must be raised in Paradise until the age of 21. Opt-In will occur at Paradise Town Hall upon coming of age. All children are under parental care until the youngest reaches Opt-In age. Any crime committed by a child under 21 is the direct responsibility of the parents.

7. Any harm toward a fetus (from conception onward; conception being the moment of confirmed pregnancy), is punishable by microprobe execution.

8. Suicide will not be tolerated under any circumstance. Microprobes track all changes in heart rate, vitals, and location. Any attempt at suicide will be punishable by imprisonment, with sexual visitation until the obligation of child birth is fulfilled.

9. Retirement may only be granted if the minimum amount of children are successfully conceived and are all of age.

10. Forfeiting citizenship for deflection to The Enclosure is not an option for any Paradise citizen. Petitions to deflect will be immediately rejected.

Political rallying, public mischief, protesting and rioting are all major offenses that will not be tolerated. All are punishable by a life time of imprisonment-- or in extreme cases: imprisonment until the term of parental obligation lapses followed by immediate microprobe execution. All extracurricular activities, hobbies, and personal privileges are allowed as long as they do not conflict with any of the previously mentioned laws.

Donna read it over three times before finally turning to the last chapter. She tried her best not to dwell on the restrictions. Getting upset was futile at this point-- there was nothing she could do to stop what was going to happen, so she just had to deal with it and accept it. The last chapter of the manual was her future husband’s attached file. He would have gotten one like it for her as well. The name on the cover sheet was printed in plain, bold lettering.

TRENT WEATHERBY

Donna turned the page more out of curiosity than anything else. She didn’t know anything about Trent-- he could be someone she could get along with...or he could be someone she hated. In the upper left hand corner of the next page, Trent’s identification photo was printed. She had expected that one of the men on the bus ride to Paradise would be her mate. After reading her manual, however, the people in Paradise had never left, and their children would need mates as well. Donna took a few moments to look at the photo. The color was bright-- Donna had to get used to the differences from Paradise and The Core--she would have to get used to seeing billboards and printed photographs and colorful buildings. Especially if she was sentenced to Paradise for a lifetime.

She took a deep breath and took in the man she would be marrying tomorrow.

Trent was an attractive man of mixed race with expressive eyebrows and thick, curly black hair. His soulful eyes were a deep green, shattered by a speckling of mahogany brown. His full lips were quirked in such a manner that Donna expected he had some infamous secret to tell.

There was no doubt. Someone like Trent Weatherby would make beautiful children. With anyone. But he wouldn’t be making beautiful children with just anyone; he would be making beautiful children...with her.

The biography below the picture began as a descriptive account. Trent was nearly six feet, three inches tall and almost 200 pounds. He was a lifetime resident of Paradise, raised by highly fertile parents in the city. He had never been outside of it. His lifestyle label was heterosexual, claimed and verified on his Opt-In almost three years prior.

He was 23 years old.

He had scored highly on his aptitude test, and he had some of the same interests as Donna did. He was a chief officer at the Paradise Police Department-- a bogus job in Donna’s opinion since there was rarely crime anymore. His fertility rate matched Donna’s as well as his ethnic heritage. He was heterosexual and she was-- she was labeled the same. No matter how wrong the label was. She knew her file would say she was straight...and her husband would probably expect her to live up to her obligation as a spouse.

Donna had so many questions. Why wasn’t she being matched with someone her age? Would he allow her to have lovers? Was he nice?

Would she wind up being miserable?

Would Paradise be Hell?

***

Paradise Town hall was as bland as it was the day before-- but drearier if possible on such a sunny day. Everyone from the bus the day before gathered on the bus today, dressed in business attire. Today was the solidification of a mutual agreement-- not a cause for joy and celebration as it had been decades before. There were no white dresses and photographers; no witnesses or memories. There would be no honeymoon. There was only a line, and near the middle of it, Donna stood, waiting for her future spouse to claim his spot beside her.

Trent walked into the building with a boom. The door slammed against the wall and rattled when he entered, banging hard enough to bounce closed in a heavy swing. The noise reverberated throughout the waiting area, and Trent searched the line quickly, spotting her and standing beside her in indifferent silence. He wore a simple blazer with his gold police badge pinned haphazardly to his lapel. The tie he wore was loosened, like he had come straight from work to be there. He ran a hand through his slightly dampened hair, before shoving his fists into his own pockets.

"Sorry... I um, work ran over a bit."

Donna simply nodded, and they moved with the progressing line to the desk that housed the marriage certificates. The judge was in his robe, speaking in hushed tones with the couples ahead of them. There were people from Paradise who had not been on her bus getting married to each other; they had at least three couples in front of them, one of them already expecting. Donna turned to Trent, watching him as he teetered on the balls of his feet anxiously. He towered over her nearly an entire foot. The photo for his identification file had been old-- his short, curly hair had grown long enough to be waves, unruly and falling into his eyes. He seemed agitated as he stared into space, seemingly too preoccupied with his thoughts to pay attention to Donna’s assessment of him.

Donna watched him quietly as the line progressed, until finally it was their turn. "Donna Meadows, Trent Weatherby, do you agree to honor your parental obligations together for as long as you both have children?" They both nodded; Donna noticed how solemn Trent’s own nod was-- how hesitant. "Very well, by the power vested in me by The Shell City of Paradise, I now pronounce you potential parents. You may take the name of your espoused; or choose to retain your individual identity. Here is a copy of your license; and you may pick up your housing and employment arrangement at the front desk. Congratulations, I wish you both many children."

And just like that--it was done.

***


The front desk clerk looked better than she did the day before; like she had gotten an entire night of sleep and was rejuvenated from it. Donna and Trent walked alongside each other until they were in another line-- this one a bit slower moving than the first. Donna took the cue to actually speak to the man she’d be tied to through children. "So...you’ve lived here all your life? How’s that been?" Trent rubbed the back of his neck, seemingly surprised Donna had said anything out loud to him. "It’s been alright I guess-- nothing I can compare it to, though. How uh, how about you? What’s The Core like?" Trent looked to her for an answer, it was the first time he had stared her directly in the face.

"Gray. Very, very gray. But okay. Paradise is the complete opposite." Trent nodded, and they moved a slot up in line, trying to diffuse the awkwardness of their first encounter. "Where do you live now, Trent?" He shifted his weight onto the opposite foot. "I’ve been renting an apartment from my brother. It’s all packed up now, though. Movers are ready to drop everything off at the new house... Is that all you brought with you?" Donna stared down at her satchel and overnight bag. "Yes...it’s all we were allowed to bring from The Core. I guess our Opt-Ins were a little different."

Trent made an appropriate noise for agreement before he coughed and made to look elsewhere. The line inched forward in silence, Donna trying to think of things that might spark conversation. She may not have to like Trent-- but the thought of living and sleeping with him when he barely had any interest in getting to know her annoyed her immensely. They collected their housing assignment, and Donna peeked into her job assignment folder to see her title emblazoned in dark, final letters:

Espionage Investigation Center Telephone Operator

Donna sighed heavily. So much had changed-- but some things seemed like they never would.

***


The house she would be living in for the next few years was a horrible pink color and had virtually no windows. Trent immersed himself in unloading the trunk of the patrol car he drove, and Donna walked immediately into the house to survey where she would be living for at least the next 30 or so years. There was minimal furniture, wood chairs and a long, ugly red couch. There was a television set mounted to the wall and flower printed curtains covering the shower in the bathroom.

She hated it all.

Donna instantly wanted to cover everything and start over. If that was allowed… There was food already in the refrigerator as well as plates and other things Donna hadn’t been allowed to bring. By the time Trent sat at the kitchen table, Donna was already perusing the pantry. She wondered silently to herself who lived here before them, and if this house had happy memories.

“I won’t ever love you.”

It was quiet and cold against Donna’s ears. She almost hadn’t heard it at all, but she felt the shiver crawl up her spine before the sound hit her ears. Her shoulders tensed before she made to turn around. There was an edge to his voice that made Donna nervous, and it was for reasons she couldn’t determine since she hadn’t even known him for a day. When she fully turned to face him, he was twirling something in his hand. It glinted in the light of the kitchen, and Donna caught glimpses of the round object in turns.

“I’ve only felt the spark with one person in my entire life. But she died. And my spark went out. She should be here. Not you. We’ll do what we have to do—fulfill our obligations. But I won’t ever love you. And no one can ever replace her.”

He ended his words looking down at the twirling object. It was a precious metal, smooth and unblemished. It was embedded with a flat, sparkling diamond.

“I don’t plan on replacing anyone.” She didn’t know anything about him. He knew nothing of her, either. “…and I won’t love you either.” She quirked a brow in defiance, “I’ve never felt the spark with a man, and I doubt I ever will.” She wanted to be angry at someone. But the reason she was here wasn’t Trent’s fault; he was just the only person she had here to blame.

Trent stared at her then, tucking the ring quickly into his pocket. He let out a scruffy grunt and folded his hands on the table. “So you’re one of those? A bisexual,” he chuckled bitterly, “…figures.”

“I’m a homosexual, actually.” Trent laughed harder, longer this time than before. He clapped the palms of his hands on the hardwood table. “So you’re crazy then? Seems like you’ve been experimenting with the wrong men if you’ve never felt the spark with any of them. You’re not homosexual. Maybe you’re bisexual or one of the questionings—you just need someone who knows what they’re doing to prove you wrong. You wouldn’t be here if you were that.” Donna’s jaw twitched.

Trent leaned back in the chair, the legs of it teetering as he balanced on it, his stun gun was at his left hand, and he tapped the weapon comfortingly. “My family has been in Paradise since its formation. We’re well respected. My father was a cop before me, and I inherited an apprenticeship under him when my older brother was transferred to The Core. You don’t get to run wild around my city claiming to be gay and expect me to be okay with it. Know your place, and respect your assignment. No wife of mine is going to—“

She scoffed indignantly.

“Words don’t mean anything without anything backing them up. We are not some happy couple trying for children. You said it already—you won’t ever love me. I won’t love you either. How about we fulfill our obligation and stay out of each other’s way.”

The chair legs hit the floor with a heavy thud.

“You’re my wife! We are married! This can be easy…or you can make things hard. Just know that you don’t get to do whatever you want here. This isn’t The Core!”

Trent’s yelling snapped her mouth shut.

Donna didn’t want to assume so much so soon, but she knew it would be hard work to like him. He couldn’t really hurt her, not by law; but in Paradise, Trent was the law. She chose to save her disagreement for later, when she knew him enough to know how to handle his outbursts. She nodded quietly, and turned back to the pantry—to look at boxes of foods Donna had never tried…bought by people who were obviously gone from here. She sighed, and decided to busy herself with dinner. Trent watched her curiously, never moving as she boiled water and prepared vegetables for dinner.

He watched her closely while as she chopped carrots and broccoli bundles. His chair scraped the floor when he left the kitchen, and Donna let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding. She made dinner to the sounds of Trent letting in the movers and unpacking his things throughout the house.

Nothing here felt like it was hers. This house would never feel like home.

***

She expected him to come to her that night. She had been worried about the consummation of their marriage throughout the day. Experimentation in The Core was free and light spirited, everything felt so easy and she had never done anything she regretted. She had worried after they ate dinner in silence, that he would expect sex with her immediately—but she wasn’t ready to be with him that way—knowing already that he would be demanding and entitled. She didn’t want to trust him with her body.

She wound up watching the television set that played color channels. It was still taboo to see the PSA’s on the screen with different hues and tones to them. Paradise was so different than what she was used to, and Donna tried to adjust to the culture shock. It made her wonder where she would be had she been sent to The Enclosure, if she would at least have someone like Richard by her side. She dozed off sometime during the night, waking with a nudge from Trent, with a grumble about breakfast and having to go to work.

She bit her tongue about him making his own breakfast, instead she woke up and headed toward the kitchen. She didn’t have work until the following week. She would use the day to familiarize herself with the house. With her husband.

When Trent had left for work she was relieved, and she walked barefoot through the house staring at the things Trent had brought with him. There were relics, sports cards covered in Laminate and overused gloves or mitts or whatever they were called when people still played baseball. There was a black chest in Trent’s office, Donna only knew he’d christened it his office because there were file boxes and a computer with the desktop background of the Paradise Police Department seal. She brought the computer to life and was disappointed immediately at the password that protected privileged information.

She left his office in boredom, heading into the bedroom to gather her things for a shower. Trent had left the bed unmade, his underwear was tossed near an open hamper in the closet.

Her shower was long and hot. She tried not to let the anxiety build in her chest about what her life would be here. The Core felt like a fading dream already. She took her time there, making her art and telling herself she was happy—that she was spending her free years the way she had wanted to. If only she knew then what she knew now.

The first tear fell down the drain and mingled with the water. The next few came heavier than the spray from the faucet. She felt like she would suffocate by the time she turned off the shower. She fell to the floor in frustration after, rocking on the balls of her feet as she cried. Everything felt wrong; and everything was spiraling out of her control.

***

Trent got home promptly at six thirty, and she had dinner set on the table for him. She needed to set boundaries. He had to know that this was a partnership; and they were going to be equal or nothing at all. He ran his hand through his sweaty hair and ate the lasagna she’d made in a few big bites. He was halfway through the garlic bread when she spoke up.

“I want to talk about how this is going to work.”

Trent shook his head at nothing in particular and threw his napkin down on his plate.

“Yesterday was pretty intense. We both said some things that may have come off harsh. I think we should at least try to get along. We’ll be living together and raising children—we should at least be able to communicate. What expectations do you have of me?”

Trent looked more indifferent than anything else. He shrugged and looked at her pointedly. “I expect you to cook dinner and keep the house clean. I expect you to stay home with the children when they are born. I expect you to conduct yourself in a respectable manner.”

A beat passed. Donna took a breath and held back a scathing remark. When she gained her composure, she answered him.

“I expect you to clean after yourself. You did it before me, and you can do it with me here now. I’ll cook—but when I don’t want to…you’ll fend for yourself.”

Trent rubbed his face like he was making some big decision. He sized her up and nodded, got up to put his plate in the kitchen sink. “May I take on lovers?”

By law, Donna had to ask. She had never felt so low before…she never thought the words would be something that came out of her mouth willingly. Trent stiffened. His hands gripped the edge of the kitchen sink, knuckles red instantly. “As I don’t have the right to lay with others, I only think it fair that you don’t either. I can’t have the town talking about my whore of a wife—unsatisfied at home.”

Trent rinsed his dish off before putting it in the rack to dry. Donna wouldn’t ask again. But she wouldn’t comply to his skewed logic either. She was used to keeping a low profile.

***


The week continued like that. She cleaned the house and made plans to buy paint and other things after her first stipend arrived. Trent came home and they ate dinner silently at the table. Her first week in Paradise had been uneventful, and she had slept in front of the television set every night, entranced by the colors dancing on the screen.

She had made stir fry that night, one of the last recipes in her arsenal of things to cook. Something had seemed different about Trent all night, like he’d wanted to tell her something but had held back.

“I got promoted to Sergeant today.” He said it like she should have been impressed by it. “I guess that means nothing to you. It means a bigger stipend. Less time on the street—“

“What crime is there in Paradise?” Donna wanted to snatch it back when she saw the look on Trent’s face.

“I know that there isn’t much going on where you come from. They don’t even let the lot of you drive—but there is a lot here in Paradise you don’t understand. When you start working I’m sure you’ll start to get it, but don’t assume you know anything about how things here are run.”

Donna tossed her napkin onto the table.

“Fine, congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Trent rolled his eyes.

The awkward silences had dwindled down to quiet nuisances, but there were still just as many between them. “We should try tonight, to fulfill our obligation. Do you have any preferences?”

Donna shrugged. She’d love to hold off a bit longer. But since Trent had at least asked, they might as well just get it over with. “I guess we can just see how it goes.”

Trent nodded, and cleaned his plate before announcing he was going to go shower.

***

The bedroom of the house was still foreign to her. She only went inside it for changes of clothing. Trent had been sleeping there alone and Donna felt like an intruder when she slipped into the bed later that night. She was naked from the waist down, warring with herself about how this entire thing would be with him. He laid on his side, shirtless, his arms above the sheets.

She didn’t want to kiss him, or touch him. She couldn’t tell if it was the fact that he was a man…or the fact that she was simply not attracted to him. She swallowed thickly when he turned to face her. His hand went silently to her hip, and he pulled her close until their bodies touched. His hands were too large and strange against her bare legs as he explored the contours of her skin. He kissed her chastely a few times on the bottom of her jaw before his hands went between them.

He tried to rouse himself for the act and Donna watched quietly as he grew impatient. He tried unsuccessfully, before getting up to head for the bathroom, his bare backside illuminated by the light he turned on before closing the door. She rolled her eyes and flipped onto her stomach, hugging the pillow close at the sounds of Trent trying to rub arousal into his disinterested penis.

She thought about sex before Opt-In. It made her stomach hurt at the memory. She already missed the intimacy that good sex with a willing woman provided. She hadn’t had sex with a man since Richard-- and at least Donna had been curious enough that time to be mildly fascinated. Sex had been new for the last year of her life. She had just discovered what it felt like to be with a woman-- how it made her body feel so awake. Trent’s insistence continued, the flapping noise consistent in her ears. She remembered sex with Richard; it had been her first time-- of course she’d remember it vividly. She remembered the friction-- the discomfort. She had felt safe and it had been as pleasant as a first experience with a man could be for her.

Her thoughts were bombarded with flashbacks, then, of Isabel. The feelings rushed back before the memories did. She felt the fluttering of her stomach and the sweat on her palms. She could remember the contrast of her skin against Isabel’s when they sprawled over the sheets. She could almost inhale deep enough to smell Isabel’s lotion, the resonating smell of her hair. Donna’s hand crept downward before she could catch it, her eyes shut with imprints of Isabel’s body on the backs of her eyelids. She bit her lip as she edged a finger around the gathered bundle of nerves. Pleasing herself had been something she hadn’t done until after sex, an exploration of places only awakened by another person’s hands. Donna continued, feeling the beginnings of her slick arousal. If she would not feel another woman’s hands on her for her lifetime, she would always have her memories. She worked her body up enough that she was startled by door opening--Donna snatched her hand from the place between her thighs as Trent walked over to her.

When Trent had asked her about “fulfilling their obligation” she saw the disgust on his face. She wasn’t the only one repulsed, and that would probably never go away. She had stayed completely still, a bit embarrassed to have almost been caught (which was funny considering what they were about to do). Trent was on top of her before she could turn around, a hand on her shoulder stilled her.

“Stay that way…I don’t, I would rather not see your face.” She remained on her stomach; she wasn’t insulted. She was fine not seeing him either. Maybe she would be lucky and she could tune the entire thing out. The hand on her side was cold and clammy, and she felt him pressing against her before the other hand wrapped around the other side. Her feet were pointing up, and she could only wrap her legs around his waist backwards as he positioned himself to enter her.

She took a deep breath when he pushed inside, suddenly happy for her own wandering hands-- she definitely would have felt him had she been dry-- and she tried to think of all the things she had to do the next day as he grunted above her. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t want to enjoy it. It felt like she was going to work on a day she should have been off. His movements were technical, like he knew how to make it better for her but he didn’t want to give the effort. She closed her eyes after a while, trying not to make too much noise. Trent sped up, his breath heavy in her ear when he leaned forward from behind her, crashing over her. She was wet, but no longer aroused and Trent seemed content to get this over with as quickly as possible. If she knew anything about herself, it was that penetration did almost nothing for her libido. Even still, as he continued she was wet enough to keep going, her hips tilted up as he thrust down, her body compensated, doing what science knew it would when she was being provoked.

The change forced Trent into his undoing, and she felt him buck harshly into her with a stunted noise before she felt the familiar warmth spread inside her seconds later. She took a deep breath when he rolled away from her. She turned away from him, already a bit sore and simply uncomfortable. She tried not to think about the possibility of pregnancy as she forced herself to ignore the stickiness on her thighs.

She pretended to be asleep when she heard him crying.