Union

89.

Roel
I done the one thing I said I wouldn't, my pathetic fucking dick hurt my angel and I'll never be able to do penance for the action. She's fallen asleep on the drive but I don't move, I should go inside and let her sleep comfortably in a bed but there are dangers in there. Multiple bathrooms she could lock herself in, knives in the kitchen, guns in the safe that she has the code to.
Growing up Eloise had a love of words, she obsessed over etymology and tried to find patterns or meanings between the characters. Right now, I'm doing the same to stop from focusing on the shit I can't help.

Life.
Four letters.
Wife.
Four letters.

Both sound the same.
Both follow the same writing rules.

Both mean the same thing.

There's a choked sound filling the car as Maria shifts and her breathing becomes ragged. Rough pants his my neck and I just hold her because I can't do shit to fucking help. I'm inept, useless to her mental fight and the cries that she lets out in sleep. Holding her nape she screams and it's filled with pain.
I'm holding my heart as it breaks unable to do anything. Fear isn't what's inside of me, fear is too bland to explain how fucking terrified I am of losing her. The scream tapers out and the wakeful sobs come as Maria holds on to me like I can stop her drowning. She doesn't know that she's the one keeping us both afloat, my angel who deserves more than anyone knows.
Her fingers are warming up as they stroke up my neck and hold my cheek, the tears are soaking into my skin on the other side as Maria hugs me her face is pressed against mine. "I was doing good, and it's come back again." Banding my arms around her tighter I'm not sure how she manages to speak as I'm trying to fit her in my chest.
Keeping her voice at a whisper my angel doesn't shut down, all of the work she's done stops her and she speaks slowly trying again. Always fucking trying. "I wish I could get memory loss, maybe then I'd be free to be mine and yours fully."

***

Walking into Alto's, Maria has her normal smile on her face. There are no sunken eyes and she didn't try to starve herself this morning. She didn't 'bounce back' ignoring whatever happened, she's built herself up carefully and I don't know how the fuck she did.
My angel goes straight to Amber's side forgetting I exist as she congratulates her on the baby and gushes over the wrinkly thing. It's fingers are like raisins and it's freaky as fuck. But it doesn't stop love and longing blanket her features and I feel the pit open up when it's chased away by sadness before the guards mask it.
Standing back I let Maria get out her fix of the kid, I'm watching every expression she makes fearful of what's going on inside her pretty little head when little hands slap my calf. Alto's son is two years old and has a chaotic energy rattling behind his eyes as he goes back to trying to beat the shit out of me. Not liking being left out, Aleksander waddles over and punches my other leg.
They both have wide gappy smiles as they silently bet who can cause more damage. If they knew the pain in my chest they'd realise I can't feel shit. But they're toddlers who are just playing and I feign injury to make them feel better.
Picking them both up by their t shirts, Maria's eyes come to me as they giggle. The longing is back and she smiles softly showing me every wish in her deep blues, I'm a prick. I've got the information ready to give her but I haven't because I'm a chicken shit too.

It doesn't leave as we go home, and I skirt around the topic. It's in the air thickening it as she'll get lost in thought. Every time I see the hardcover with our images it looks at me knowing what I do.
My sanctuary is violence, not a place for conversation but action. Maria's is surrounded by words and comfortable, hoping that will help ease the worry inside of me I carry everything I've found to her.
My angel isn't reading her book, she's sat staring with unseeing eyes at the city in front of her. She's not seeing the view people pay thousands for, her mind is giving her the opportunity to see her dream and the sad smile is fucking breaking me.
Rocking the swing lightly, she turns to me with the sadness still lingering and I take the seat next to her pulling her to my side with no fucking idea how to explain anything. "Truth or dare angel?" I'm a chicken shit still, a fucking coward who has hope she'll make this easier for me.
Kissing my cheek she whispers. "Dare." We're connected and she saves me again with her option. I should have written a fucking script to rehearse because I lose any thoughts I had on how to bring up the topic and just blurt. "I dare you to make a baby with me." The sad smile comes back and Maria looks up at me tired of everything and unhappiness in her voice. "I wish we could caro mio."
I haven't fucked her or tried to again, after what happened in Umbra there's more fear in the act than before. Maria can take whatever she wants from my body but I won't let myself be a point of pain.
Swallowing around the lump in my throat I sound like a little bitch who knows nothing as I try to get explain shit I know nothing about. "You can have anything you want, engjëlli." Kissing her shoulder, I pull the tablet closer showing her what I found. "I don't really get how it all works but, I go jack off into a cup and then they do some shit with it."

Maria
I have to bite my lip to stop from laughing at how adorable Roel is. He has a blush staining the apples of his cheeks and it reaches his ears as he tries to re-read what he's found to make sense to me. Cupping his cheek to get his attention, my smile is genuine and my thoughts slip out. "I never thought I would say this but, you're really cute."
His laugh is more air than sound and he relaxes at my admission. "I'm a grown ass man with blood on his hands, I'm not cute." He scrunches his nose at the last bit like it's an insult. Pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, I know what he said is true. He has blood on his hands but I would run into them knowing I'm safe.
My voice is low but filled with conviction. "You might be a bad guy outside our home but you're a good man, Roel. My heart is only safe within your bloody hands." He relaxes more and holds me tighter kissing my forehead. "And you are cute." My voice is louder and he looks back with a playful smile on his face.
It's been too many moments of sadness and worry distorting his beautiful features that I just stare enjoying the good between the bad. Tickling my ribs, my laugh is too loud and bounces off the shelves. The pages on them do nothing to dull it and he doesn't stop until I've managed to lay half on top of him in my attempts to wriggle away.
After my oral victory, Roel is hesitant with me. He never initiates, not even a kiss. His hands only ever hold me unless I move them and he'll give me whatever I ask for apart from trying again. Logically I know that while I relive any nightmare, he's watching it play out. But it's not logic that tells me the problem is me. Even when he's hard and leaking against my thigh and the evidence physically points to me that he's affected, the bitter part of my brain tells me I'm the issue.
Ignoring his desire like always, Roel rearranges me so we can both see the screen. It's a webpage for a fertility clinic, different details about fertility treatments and his voice is more assured when he betrays on his fear. "You can have it put in someone else so you're safe."
I want to reach inside of him to pull out the little boy who was constantly told he was a murderer, who has hurt beyond belief and still carries other peoples hate with him. Turning in his arms he pleads me to take the option he's offering, so much worry all over his face that it guts me.
My voice is quiet not wanting to hurt him but not wanting to lie either. "I want to carry our child, if we can't make it to without a clinic I at least want to do that." His face falls unhappy with my answer or at my thoughts I don't know but Roel holds me tighter.
He answers any questions I have and the nerves are present in his voice as he fills with uncertainty. Turning so we're facing each other I sit up on my knees and hold his shoulders so he can't hide away from me. My voice is gentle but doesn't leave any room for him to skirt around the topic. "Do you want this?" I can see the moment he decides to lie and I deflate, my hands falling limply to my knees and Roel gives me an unconvincing nod.
Logic is arguing with my irrational thoughts. Logic tells me he's talking about the process, how hard it will be and time consuming. But my bitter thoughts cut me deeper and say it's me he doesn't want.
The bitterness is what makes my anger rise and I go to leave when his arms wrap around my middle dragging me back. Keeping silent I go lax in his hold and make my face as blank as possible. It clearly pisses Roel off because I'm twisted until I'm on my back and we're face to face. His eyes are on fire as he speak against my face roughly. "Don't you fucking dare try and run off from me."
I don't say anything and my masks don't let me be seen, he gets bigger and I know that even though there's brutality swirling around the jade none of that will touch me. Holding my jaw gently, Roel's voice is torn. "You wanted a kid, you can have one. What else do you want?" He makes it sound so simple and I come back to life spitting back. "Why would I want that when you don't, who wants a child with someone who doesn't want it with them?"
Now that my bitter thoughts have found my voice, they don't stop and he keeps getting angrier with every syllable. "You don't even want me, you never touch me and you're sad all the time. I see you Roel, you forget I've been hiding behind my guards since before I met you. I recognise yours."
I would never have thought this strong man would run away from anything. But he does now, mentally and physically Roel runs away and his footsteps thunder through the space until the gym door slams. I just lay there staring up at the ceiling wondering how do I reach him? How do you get someone to speak to you when they've always been more open. I'm the closed off one, the one who hides until Roel forces me out. But it's my turn to be that for him and I walk on steady feet unwilling to let my husband run away after all the shit we've been through.
I'm not expecting him to be sat knitting when I go into the gym but the amount of force behind his punches is unlike anything I've seen. The chains shake and plaster dust floats down as he tests the anchors into the ceiling. By the second repetition it falls with a heavy thud and his breathing is laboured.