Soccer/Football Imagines

Marc Bartra (Part 9) [~] Contracted Love

                Marc laid down flat on his back, Tommy asleep on his chest. You smiled sleepily at the sight. Tommy was fast asleep and so was Marc soon after. You drifted back to sleep, all of you exhausted from the day's events. You woke up to Tommy's fussing again. Carefully taking him from Marc's chest, you fed him quietly. Marc stirred next to you and woke up. Looking up at your son, Marc's face immediately broke into a smile. Tommy hiccupped but you burped him and the hiccups went away.

                Getting out of bed, you walked downstairs into the living room, Marc right behind you. Setting your son in the basinet, you turned to the kitchen where you started making breakfast for you and Marc. Marc entertained your son in the other room as you did so. You couldn't help but smile at Marc. He had broken your heart, repeatedly, but there was something about the way he acted around your son that made you reconsider a divorce. Placing a plate of breakfast next to him, you and Marc ate breakfast in the living room, watching your son sleep peacefully.

                "So, where do we go from here?" Marc asked. "When are you and Tommy going to move out?" Taking a moment to process the question, you shrugged your shoulders.

                "I don't know when we will. I don't really have anywhere to go from here. Taking a newborn on a plane ride or a long train ride is not a good idea so I'm stuck here for now," you replied.

                "I'm sorry," Marc sighed, "I don't want you to feel like I'm holding you and Tommy here hostage."

                "It's not your fault, it's just not safe to travel with a newborn," you muttered.

                "Well, do you want to get a divorce while you and Tommy are still here or afterwards?" Marc questioned, shaking the rattle for your son as he started to whine in his basinet. You sighed. Marc, noticing your distress, turned to look at you. "Is something wrong? I'm sorry for asking if it's touchy for you."

                "No, it's no problem. It's just that . . . I don't know if moving out of here is the best option for Tommy," you sighed. "Here he has a support system if anything goes wrong, but if I left he wouldn't have that. And then there's the problem of custody and lack of a father figure type of thing," you ranted. Marc stared at you, a glint of hope in his eyes.

                "You know you'd get primary care without a fight, right?"

                "I'm fully aware of that but I'd feel like I'm robbing Tommy of a father, and I don't want him to have to go through what I did," you explained, remembering back to your own childhood without a father figure. It had repercussions on you, your sister, and your mother. It tore your family apart.

                "I'll never be more than a plane ride away, no matter where you go," Marc replied.

                "I know that. Then there's Skype and FaceTime and all of that but Tommy needs a father figure that's always around for him. Not one that he waves to through a glass screen."

                "What are you saying, (Y/N)?" Sighing, you turned to look at Marc who looked at you expectantly.

                "I'll stay here with Tommy until he's a bit older and we'll go from there," you stated.

                "How long is that? I don't want you to feel like we are chained together for life. I made mistakes and I hurt you. I had no right to do that and you and Tommy deserve a guy who'll put your futures above his own," Marc confessed.

                "I don't know. Two? Three? Maybe four? Right now he doesn't understand anything but we'll see later if he's happier here with the both of us or with just me wherever. I'm thinking of his well-being here, Marc," you confided to your husband.

                "Whatever makes you and Tommy happy, do it," Marc stated. Tommy started fussing in his basinet. Marc turned away from you and picked up his newborn. Resting your son on his chest, Tommy stopped fussing once the warmth of his father soothed him. Marc ran a finger up and down his small back lightly, soothing your son further.

                "I think he's . . . we are . . . happiest here, with you," you gulped, not knowing how Marc would react. He merely smiled and kissed your forehead lightly. You didn't shy away from his touch and instead watched your son fall asleep in his father's arms once again.