So you’re saying that you never cared for me?
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“So, you’re saying that you never cared for me,” she asked, her voice dull and worn.
“No! That’s not what I’m saying at all,” he said, throwing his arms up frustrated. He looked out the window, trying to figure out how he, how they went so very wrong. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be, he thought, feeling the tears spring to his eyes. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be at all.
“So, where does this leave us,” she asked, her cleaning rag in hand, their child on her hip.
“I don’t know,” he replied and took the baby from her. “I don’t know where this leaves us.”
“You could try going away for a while. Leaving us here to pick up the pieces,” she said quietly not looking at him.
He closed his eyes, leaning over to breathe deeply of his baby’s head. “And leave the children here? I couldn’t do it,” he said just as quietly.
“You did it once! You could bloody well do it again!”
For a breath’s beat neither one of them said anything. Only the baby’s startled crying woke them from their stupor. He turned away from her, fussing over the baby.
“I could leave again,” he said after a moment settling the baby. “But only if I took the children with me. You could have some peace and quiet while I ‘worked things out,'” he said, still not looking at her. Outside the waves threatened to come crashing ever closer to their house as the wind and rain started to pick up.
“What would I do,” she asked, her voice slowly perking up.
“Whatever it is you wanted,” he said.
“You could. It might be the best for for us.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said, standing and leaving the room. “I’ll think about it.”
Well, wasn’t that cheery?