by Elena Aitken
She’d been looking at him with those same eyes ever since.
Until now.
As she stood in the doorway to their bedroom, watching the man she loved, for the first time, she realized that things had changed. Really realized it. She was no longer looking at Mark the same way she always had.
She’d disappointed him in the most devastating way. He’d sacrificed so much for her, for them, to have the lifestyle they had. He’d worked so hard so she could be the mother to their children and spend her days raising his babies, and she hadn’t been able to give him that. The emotion crashed through her and she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the cry that finally threatened to burst from inside her.
It killed her to know that she’d never feel his child growing inside her. He’d never have the chance to teach his son how to throw a ball. They’d never be able to look down at the tiny face and wonder whether their child was going to get his smarts from his dad or inherit her mother’s gift for baking. He deserved more.
Her body ached with the need to feel his arms around her. More than anything, she wanted him to tell her that it would be okay and that he loved her. Yet she couldn’t go to him.
But why?
Despite her best efforts to stop them, a cry escaped her throat and Mark shifted in the bed.
“Christy?” He pulled himself up to sitting and ran his hands through his hair, still mostly asleep. “What are you doing?”
She stared at him while a tear slipped down her cheek.
“Come to bed, honey. What time is it?”
She took a step into the room. “I need to tell you something.”
He sat up straighter and reached out for her. She didn’t take his hand but sat on the mattress close to him. “What’s going on? You’re scaring me. Christy, what’s going on?”
Tears fell unchecked now. “Mark, I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” He reached for her, but she shook her head.
She needed to tell him everything she was feeling inside before she burst. It was long past time. He deserved to know.
“I’m sorry I can’t give you a baby.” The words felt like knives to her soul. “I’m sorry I failed. That my body—”
“Stop.” He took her hands in his and squeezed. “You know this isn’t your fault. You know—”
“No.” She cut him off. It didn’t matter how many times the doctors went through their history, and the challenges they both faced. They could tell her a thousand times, but it didn’t change the fact that it was her body that had failed to carry any of the pregnancies. It was her who had failed. It was her fault. And living with that was killing her. “You deserve better. You deserve to have a—”
“Stop.” He was angry now, the sleepiness gone completely from his voice. “I won’t listen to you talk like that. You know better, Christy.” He shook her hands a little until she looked at him but she immediately had to look away from the hurt in his eyes. Even if he didn’t mean to, it was there. He didn’t have to say it; she knew how disappointed he was in her. “You know that’s not how this works. We’re in this together and there are other things. We can talk about—”
“No.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “No,” she said again. She’d been thinking about their “options” but they all felt so daunting and there were still no guarantees. They could spend thousands of dollars and years of their lives and still never have a baby. And it would still be her fault. Logical or not, the blame was intense.
Mark didn’t wait for her to elaborate. Instead, he pulled her into a tight embrace. “Christy, I love you. I don’t blame you for any of this. It’s not you, honey. It’s just…it’s just not fair. I’m sorry, baby. I am.”
She let him hold her as her tears soaked the t-shirt he always wore to bed. But instead of feeling comforted by his arms, they only made her feel worse. He stroked her hair and murmured comforting words in her ear but none of them made any reasonable impact. She still felt empty inside and miles away from how she’d felt earlier that night on stage when life and vitality coursed through her. It was the perfect time for Christy to tell Mark about her singing. She knew she couldn’t keep it a secret from him much longer anyway. But still, she couldn’t bring herself to share with her husband.
How could she possibly tell him that the only time she felt okay anymore was when she was pretending to be someone else? How could she possibly look into his eyes and tell him that whenever she was with him, all she felt was an overwhelming amount of pain and disappointment?
She couldn’t.
So instead she lay down next to him, still in her clothes, and let him hold her while the tears that wouldn’t stop falling soaked the pillow beneath her head as she drifted off to sleep, only inches away from her husband in body but miles away in her heart.
Chapter Nine
The night before had been intense to say the least. After Christy woke him up and confessed to him how much guilt she was feeling, he hadn’t been able to sleep. No matter what he’d said to her, it hadn’t seemed to make any difference and it killed him inside. Their infertility wasn’t her fault.
Did he make her feel like it was?
How could she be holding so much hurt and blame and he didn’t even know?
Because she wouldn’t talk to him. He’d tried more than once to talk to her about everything they’d been through, but she’d kept putting him off.
After Christy finally had cried herself to sleep, Mark had laid there with her in his arms, going over all the ways he could make it better for her. For both of them. And despite a sleepless night, the only answer he could come up with was just letting her know how much he loved her and always would.
Together, they could get through anything. Even this. He’d given her the space she’d wanted, but no more. He needed to close the distance between them and they’d work through this rough patch—together.
More than anything, Mark had wanted to cancel his patients and spend the day with his wife, talking over everything, but he couldn’t. His day had been packed with back-to-back patients, a number of phone consults with experts, and various other things that Sarah had scheduled for him. He’d tried calling Christy a few times throughout the day, but she never answered. He’d left voice mails telling her that he loved her and everything would be okay.
By the time his last patient left, he was more than a little anxious to get home to Christy. They had so much to talk about and despite the fact that he’d seen her in the middle of the night—she’d still been sleeping when he’d left for work—it felt like way too long since he’d seen her face.
Sarah had managed to make them reservations for the next night at Riverside Grill and he wanted to talk to her about his idea of heading out of town for a little romantic escape. They were long overdue for a little time together, just the two of them. It would be good to get away from everything so they could focus on the hurt and start to take the steps they needed to in order to work through it.
“Honey?” Mark left his computer bag at the front door and moved straight into the kitchen. “Christy? Are you home?” The house was oddly quiet. Christy’s car was in the driveway, but there were none of the usual signs of her. Normally the sounds of the radio filled the house, or the delicious smell of one of her baked creations.
She wasn’t in the kitchen. A spark of worry flickered to life in his gut, which was ridiculous because he had no reason to be worried about her. Except…he was. Especially after everything she’d said to him the night before. Just another reason why a weekend away was such a good idea. They needed the reconnection more than ever.
“Christy?” Mark moved down the hall into their bedroom and froze in the doorway. “What are you doing, honey?”
She was sitting on their bed, her back to him, staring out the window. She didn’t move when he walked across the room. He laid his hand on her shoulder and sat next to her. “Christy? You’re scaring me. What’s going on? Are you okay?”
Her eyes were red and her cheeks were blotchy, the way they always got when she was worked up about something.
The flicker in his gut roared to a full flame. Something was definitely wrong.
“Talk to me, Christy. What’s going on?”
She shook her head a little. “I can’t do this anymore, Mark.”
“What? What can’t you do?” Babies? They didn’t have to talk about their options right away. He’d respected her need to wait. Until the night before, he hadn’t brought it up at all. It wasn’t important. They could wait until the time was right. He told her as much. “We don’t have to try for a baby right now, Christy. We don’t need to even discuss it. There are no timetables on these—”
“No,” she interrupted him. “I can’t do this.” She lifted a hand and pointed to him and then back at herself.
Still, Mark was confused. Nothing made sense. “This?”
“Us, Mark.” She squeezed her eyes shut for what felt like forever. “I can’t do us anymore. At least not right now. I think we should take a break from…well, from everything.”
“A break?” He wasn’t hearing her properly. The room spun and a roaring white noise filled his ears. “From us? That doesn’t make sense, Christy. We’re great. We’re—”
“Are we?” She turned on the bed and stared at him. “Are we great, Mark? Because I don’t think we are. I’m not.” She shook her head and stood, walking to the window. “I’m not great, Mark. I can’t breathe. I feel like I’m suffocating. Nothing is how it’s supposed to be and the worst part is, I don’t even know anymore what that’s supposed to be.”
“Christy, don’t do this.” His entire body was numb as he watched her. He couldn’t feel his hands. This couldn’t be happening. She was the love of his life and…sure, they’d been a little distant lately. But the night before they’d… She wanted a divorce? A separation? A…what? “We can figure this out,” he pleaded. “Together. Let’s go to counseling. I know there are a few great therapists in town and together we can…we don’t need a break.” He shook his head as he said the word. It was unthinkable.
“No, Mark. I’m sorry.” She clasped her hands together in front of her. “I don’t think this is something we can figure out together. At least, not yet. I know it’s hard to understand. But I need to figure things out for myself. I need to get to know myself again and I don’t think I can do that with you here. At least not right now.”
“You want me to leave?” He stood but didn’t walk toward her. “My house?”
“Our house, Mark. And I think it’s best. But if you want me to leave, I will. I’ll go stay with—”
“No.” He held up a hand. “I’ll go. If that’s what you want, I’ll go.” Like a zombie, completely detached from his body, he turned and walked to the closet, where he pulled out a duffel bag. “I don’t understand what’s happening, Christy. I love you,” he said after he’d packed a few things. He wasn’t even sure what he’d put in the bag. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the woman in front of him.
“I’m sorry, Mark.” Tears streamed down her cheeks now. “I love you, too. So much.”
“Then why?” He dropped his bag and ran to her. He clasped her arms with his hands and shook her a little until she looked at him. “If you love me, why are you doing this? There are other—”
“There’s no other way, Mark. I don’t know who I am anymore when I’m with you.”
Her eyes were so full of pain, Mark wanted more than anything to take it away for her. But he couldn’t. Because even if she’d let him, he realized, he had no idea how.
He dropped his arms. Not because he was giving up, but because he had no idea what else to do. “I love you, Christy. And that’s why I’m going to leave. But you need to understand something.”
She nodded.
“I love you more than I love myself, so I’ll give you some space if that’s what you think you need. But I’m not quitting. I’m not quitting on you or me. And I’m definitely not quitting on us. Because one thing I know for sure is that no matter what, I’ll love you. We’ve been through a lot and I understand if that’s been unsettling to you—how could it not be? But there’s one more thing you need to remember.”
She looked at him.
“None of this is your fault, Christy. I can’t make you believe it, but I hope to hell you do.” Her eyes squeezed together, as if she couldn’t even bear to hear him say it. “Take your time, and rediscover yourself if that’s what you need. I’m still going to love you like crazy.”
Christy was sobbing by the time he finished talking.
They stood like that in their bedroom, the room Christy had decorated so lovingly just for them. Where they’d made love more times than he could count. Where he’d held her in his arms night after night. Where they’d tried and failed to make a baby. Their room.
Finally, Mark dropped his chin to his chest and took a breath. “I’ll leave,” he said softly. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
He had no idea where to go, but somehow Mark found himself parked in front of the Creekside Inn. It was the only hotel in town, but that’s not why he was there.
Mark left his bag in the car and walked into the timber-framed lobby. Normally he spent a moment admiring the place. The hand-stripped log beams that ran the length of the ceiling never failed to impress. Aaron’s grandfather had hand-built the hotel when Timber Creek was still an active logging town, determined to create a beautiful building that blended into the landscape and could be the focal point of town.
He’d done that.
But Mark wasn’t looking around today. He wasn’t looking anywhere except the check-in desk, where thankfully Aaron was talking to an employee. As if his friend had sensed his presence, Aaron looked up and straight at Mark. He must have looked as terrible as he felt because a moment later, Aaron was around the side of the desk and grabbing Mark’s arm.
“What’s going on? Are you okay? Is Christy okay?” He led Mark to one of the overstuffed couches that sat next to the large stone fireplace at the opposite end of the lobby. “What happened, Mark?”
“She left me.”
“She what?” Aaron blinked. “Christy? She left you?”
“No.” Mark shook his head. “She didn’t leave me. She kicked me out.”
“Kicked you out? You’re not making any sense.”
“Yes.” Mark nodded, his movements mechanical and stiff. “She asked me to leave.” He blinked until Aaron came into focus for the first time. “I don’t know what happened, Aaron. I came home from the office. She was sitting on the bed, crying. And then she told me she needed a break from everything.”
Aaron didn’t answer right away. He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t understand?”
Mark stared into the fireplace at the stack of logs that was ready to light on a cold night. He couldn’t make sense of anything. He couldn’t formulate a single thought that made any amount of sense of the situation he somehow found himself in.
“What am I going to do, Aaron? She’s my life.” He dropped his head to his chest, and right there in the lobby of the Creekside Inn, started to sob as the reality of what had just happened hit him.
“Come on.” He’d only been crying a few seconds, when Aaron pulled him up by the shoulders and led him through the corridors to the suite at the back of the building that Aaron called home. “Sit down.”
Mark did as he was told.
“I’m going to give you two choices, man.”
Mark looked up.
“We’re going to get blind drunk. Or go for a hard run. Your choice.”
More than anything, Mark wanted to drink and he wasn’t a drinker. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had more than a couple of beers, let alone gotten drunk.
“Drink.”
�
��You’re sure?” Aaron raised his eyebrows. “I’m game if you are.”
“No.” Mark shook his head. “Let’s run.”
It was the right choice.
Aaron nodded. “There’s nothing saying we can’t do both.”
It was a sad attempt at a joke and Mark didn’t laugh. But the tears stopped. He swiped at his face, annoyed and disappointed in himself that he’d cried in front of his buddy. Not that Aaron would care. In fact, Christy would have told him that it was a good thing to show emotion in front of his guy friends.
Christy.
He shook his head. Everything reminded him of her. How could it not? She literally was his entire life. But he needed to stop. He needed to put her out of his head, at least for a few minutes. Long enough to work up a sweat and burn off some energy.
Ten minutes later, that was exactly what they were doing.
Mark pushed his body and ran fast and, just as Aaron promised, hard. He’d chosen a hiking trail on the edge of town that led almost straight up a mountain to a waterfall. It was a sharp incline that had Mark’s muscles screaming.
It was perfect.
He didn’t slow his pace but put his head down and pushed through the discomfort of his quad muscles, the noise in his head that kept repeating his last conversation with his wife, and the intense pain in his heart that threatened to stop him in his tracks.
The trail was too intense for talking, which was perfect because there was nothing Aaron could have said to him. Just his presence was all Mark needed. If he could think of anything but his crumbling marriage, he would have been able to appreciate his friend and Aaron’s total lack of complaining for being pushed straight up a mountain trail at such a blistering pace.
Finally, they reached the top and Mark collapsed onto himself, bending at the waist and gasping for breath.
Aaron appeared next to him and handed him a water bottle. “Drink. Now.”
In his haste to get out on the trail, Mark had completely forgotten about hydration. Another reason that Aaron was literally the best friend a guy could ask for.