The Simple Intimacy of the Near Touch

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"Daddy, why did you sleep on the couch?"

Alaric looked away from Josie and at the white, glossy modern cabinets of the Armory's newly remodeled kitchen. "Uh, well, I-"

"Why don't you go put your shoes on with Lizzie?" Abigail cut him off. "We've gotta get going."

Josie grabbed her sippy cup, following Abigail's suggestion without protest. "Okay, Mommy."

Once Josie turned the corner into what had become their living room, Alaric said, "I'm sorry."

Abigail continued her task of wiping down the black countertops without an expression at all.

"The Saltzman silent treatment?" He cracked a smile. "Using my own tactics against me."

An expression found her, one that was angry, as she turned away from him to put the dishes in the sink.

His stool scraped against the tile floor. "At least you can act like everything is fine in front of the kids."

She addressed him for the first time that day, "I'm not the one who acts like everything is fine."

He raised his eyebrows; she was sure of it. "Well, you don't exactly talk about it either."

"I did talk last night." The fabric of her dress swished as she faced him. "I did all of the talking."

"And then I had to tell you I would sleep on the couch so you wouldn't go to the loft!" He wasn't yelling, not that it would've made a difference with the way he rounded the island. "We're married, Abigail, I shouldn't feel like you are pushing me away."

"That is not what I was doing." She stressed the third word that left her mouth, emphasizing it the same way the next time she said it, "It's not."

"Then what were you doing?" He asked. "Because it felt a lot like you were doing what you always do."

"Look, Alaric, I know I was young when we met. That I had a lot to learn, that I still have a lot to learn, but I have always known that I was going to be in love with you for my entire life. So, I don't need you to remind me of that." The way she was looking at him was the way she would have looked at herself, even if the way he was looking at her was not. "And I definitely do not need you to remind me of the mistakes I have made along the way."

"I am sorry that I said what I did. It was unfair and uncalled for. It is definitely not how I really feel." He was going to admit something to her, something she decided she did not know if she wanted him to by the way he covered his face with his hands, but when he pulled them away, she knew he had to say it, "Sometimes I just get caught in the hurt of what got us here. I know I shouldn't, I know that, especially because we ended up where we did. Where I always thought we would. I've just never understood why you couldn't see that. I never understood why you didn't think we could make it work."

"I don't know," she admitted. "I guess a part of me just thought I had let you down so many times that you'd finally had enough."

"Oh, no, Bea." He pulled her against his chest. "No."

"I'm sorry, too, you know." She looked up at him. "My parents never fought. Not in front of us. I-I'm sure they had their issues. I mean, when you're together as long as they were, as long as we have been, they come up. But I hate when it's like this because as hard as marriage is, it's more beautiful than anything I could imagine."

"Being married to you is the greatest privilege of my life." He slowly leaned toward her, placing a kiss on her lips once she had closed her eyes in invitation. "But having a family with you is so much more."

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