Torn [SHAWN MENDES]

~10~

Reaching across the table, Shawn helped himself to some of the roasted asparagus their chef had prepared. They were enjoying a late dinner after Piper had gone to sleep for the night. Usually she sat in her high chair and ate with them, but Yasmin spent the day in Los Angeles prepping for Paris Fashion Week and hadn't returned home until after eight.

He offered the plate to his wife who shook her head. "I thought you love asparagus," he said before taking her portion.

"I do, but it makes my pee smell and Jennifer is coming over first thing in the morning to go over the last details before things get crazy."

He cocked his head. "Surely she won't be joining you in the bathroom. I know you two are close since she's your agent, but you aren't that close."

"What if she went in the bathroom right after me and smelled it? She might think I've got something wrong with me and then she might bump one of the other girls she represents ahead of me! This is my first Fashion Week since I got pregnant and I don't want anything to go wrong!"

"You're overthinking."

She groaned. "Oh god...I really am. What is wrong with me? Why am I driving myself nuts?" Yaz then took some of the asparagus spears off his plate and set them next to her poached salmon.

"It's a big deal to make a comeback. I know this from experience. You've got nothing to worry about, though, baby," he reassured her.

Being married to a model was an eye-opening experience. The food issues were often frustrating, though she ate enough that he wasn't concerned about an eating disorder. It was the constant concern over how her appearance could impact her career that consumed her. To him, she was most beautiful with no make-up, her hair natural, and wearing just a t-shirt and leggings. When they went to events together, he appreciated how glamorous she looked and was proud to have her on his arm, but he preferred the simpler version of his wife. When he told her this, she'd laugh and say he felt that way because he was a sweet wholesome Canadian man.

"At my fitting yesterday, one of the designers' assistants said something about my incision scar. She recommended going to a plastic surgeon to see if it could be made less noticeable."

"That's ridiculous. Will you even be wearing anything where it would be visible?"

Scowling, she said, "Super low waist jeans and pants are coming back, and the pair I tried on sat below the scar. So yeah, it might show."

Shawn continued eating instead of responding because he sensed there was a fight coming on.

"Would you mind if I got a consultation about the scar?" she asked after a few minutes.

"I don't think it's necessary, because I view it as a reminder of our sweet daughter's entrance into the world. I'm amazed by how you went through a hard labor and emergency c-section for her." He set his fork down and took her hand in his. "But ultimately it's your body and if you want to look into it, I support you."

"Thank you. I don't have regrets about having Pippy during the peak of my career, but I'm still upset that it left the scar. Why did her head have to be so big?"

He winced. "I believe I'm to blame for that. Would you like me to apologize?"

"What's done is done," she replied curtly.

"Yaz, I'm sorry I pushed to start a family so quickly, but I didn't want to be an old dad."

It was important to him to enjoy parenthood in his prime. Right after they'd gotten engaged, he brought the subject of children up. Initially she told him she wanted to wait ten to fifteen years so that it wouldn't interrupt her career. That would have put him at approaching fifty, which he couldn't accept. They discussed a compromise, but ultimately she agreed to having a baby right away, partly because her trainer said her young body would bounce back faster.

"I didn't do it because you pushed," she told him. "I did it because I love you and I know how horrible your experience was...before."

He'd shared the simple version of why he'd gotten divorced with his new wife. Out of respect for Taryn, he made a point to emphasize that it wasn't either of their faults; he said their problems with having a baby had pushed them apart. He also left out that she'd had an abortion as a teen and how they'd both shut the other out emotionally after the fighting stopped. And of course he never let on that his ex-wife still occupied his thoughts more than was healthy.

"I love you, too," he told her.

"Are you going to miss me?"

"Horribly."

Yasmin would be in Paris for two weeks. Shawn had never had Piper to himself for more than a day, but he knew they'd be fine. He planned all sorts of activities, including a trip to the Santa Barbara Zoo.

"I meant to tell you that my mother called this morning. She wants you to bring Pippy to dinner at their house without me."

He moaned loudly. "What? No! That will be so weird. It's you they want to see."

"As if. It's the baby they can't do without and you're merely the chauffeur. You'll get a good meal out of it, and if you flatter my mom enough, you might even get some leftovers to take home."

"I'm not kissing your mother's ass for a doggy bag," he grumbled.

"She's got a firm one thanks to years of Jazzercise."

"I guess that's where you get your perfect buns."

"Are you trying to get a doggy bag from me?" she giggled.

"I wouldn't mind getting doggy-something from you."

"Woof!"

After fucking his wife into a deep sleep, Shawn got out of bed and pulled on a pair of flannel pants. He tiptoed out of the room and walked down the hall to his office, which was located on the other side of the house. Earlier that day some lyrics had been floating around his head and he wanted to try to fit them together into a song.

Minutes magically turned into hours, and when he was done, it was four in the morning. Raising his arms over his head, he stretched while letting out a big yawn. He considered crashing on the white couch that Yaz insisted the office needed to make it more inviting, but that could cause drama. Dragging himself down the hall, he crawled back into bed.

Yasmin moved closer to him, which happened most nights, since she was a cuddler like him.

"I love you so much," she mumbled into his chest.

He kissed the top of her head. "And I love you."

"No. Not enough."

His heart stopped for a second. "I don't love you enough?"

"No."

"That's not true. I tell you I love you every single day."

"Not with your eyes." Her voice had an eerie quality.

"What do you mean?" he asked, confused by her response. She didn't reply, so he tapped her on the hip.

"What?!" Startled, she sat up in bed. "Why did you wake me up?"

"You were asleep just now?"

"Yes."

"But we just had a conversation."

Yasmin curled up against him again. "I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I was dreaming about ice cream before you rudely woke me from my beauty sleep."

"Maybe you were sleep-talking," he said more to himself than to her.

He was still awake when the sun filtered through the curtains, having spent the rest of the night internally debating whether what his wife had uttered in her sleep meant that she knew his secret or if it was merely insignificant babbling. He hated the thought of Yasmin being cognizant of the fact that he loved someone else more than he loved her.