Tale as Old as Time

Chapter 8

Chris appeared in the door a little later. "Sorry." He said.

I didn't answer.

He came and sat on the bed and rested his hand on my thigh. "It feels really permanent. Like you've given up on the idea of us being parents."

I scooted away from him and buried my head under the pillows. I had started crying and I didn't want him to see.

"You're not even going to talk about it?" He said.

"You know I'm not giving up. I can't talk about it any more. It kills me a little every time I talk about it." I cried.

"Can you just tell me this. How long do we have to wait? If you start this job, is it three more years? Is that why you had the implant put in?" He said.

I sat up and glared at him. "I will take exactly as long as I need to take. Stop being such an irrational baby over this. I can take the implant out, I can go on maternity leave. Me having a job will be good for me. You have work. I only have you and the constant reminder that I let you down. If I can just be productive again, I might be able to move on from this. Right now it's all I have to think about."

"You didn't let me down." He whispered.

"You keep saying that. So why do I keep feeling like I did? Why is every decision I make to help me deal with my grief something we end up fighting about?"

Chris sighed and lay across the bed hugging my lap. "I'm sorry. I'm struggling too."

I stroked my fingers through his hair. "I know. You said yourself. We need to be kind to each other. And patient. Might just need to remind ourselves of that."

"I can't believe I had a cigarette. It's been like four months." Chris groaned.

"Yeah and you're definitely brushing your teeth before you kiss me." I said.

He rolled off me and got up. "Fucking fine then." He said. But walked off laughing.

* * * * *

That night we lay in bed reading. Chris was going over his script of the new Captain America movie which started filming next month. It was mostly just being made in LA, which was nice for a change. Some stuff was out of state but it was nice he'd be able to come home to his own bed.

I put my own book down and started to kiss along his collarbone. He had gone to bed in pajama pants but no shirt, and I drew circles in his chest hair with the tips of my fingers. I gazed up at him and he looked down at me over the top of his glasses.

"What'cha doin' there, princess?" He said.

"Did you just call me princess?" I asked.

"I sure did. What're you gonna do about it?"

I dug my fingers into his side and he squawked and squirmed away from me, grabbing me by the wrists. "Okay, no princess. I get it."

"Do you think maybe we can get rough tonight?" I asked.

He smiled. "What did you have in mind?"

"I'm honestly up for anything. I just like doing it."

Chris put his script on the bedside table and was about to take his glasses off. "No leave them on." I said.

He smiled and got out of bed. "Come on then, missy."

I got out of bed and followed him into the walk in. The walk in closet of our new place in LA was kind of ridiculous. I'm pretty sure the bedroom I had at my parents last house wasn't as big as this closet. It had rails around the walls and a floating island in the middle that was all drawers.