Chapter 11: Paper

2.5K 110 4
                                    

Chapter 11: Paper


Sam


I hate seeing her like this and not knowing how to make anything better.

It's been a rough three weeks all around. I took a few days off work after our appointment, which was probably the best thing for both of us. We got to spend time together and come to terms with what happened – or what didn't happen.

There was never a baby. We didn't get to hear a heartbeat or feel little feet kicking. It's weird, but I still feel like we've lost something. It's heartbreaking, especially when I look at this strong, beautiful girl that I'm so in love with, and she's just barely holding it together.

We didn't make another appointment at the clinic, not right away anyway. We decided to take three weeks to ourselves to grieve and heal. It was a good thing. We held each other, we talked, and then we started to return to life as usual.

I went to work, she spent time with her sisters planning Abby's wedding. We also made sure to go out on a date night at least once a week.

Today is July 29th. It's our first wedding anniversary and I fully intend on making it fucking special for my wife. She's still asleep when I get back from my run, so after I take a quick shower I whip up some breakfast and head into our bedroom to surprise her.

"Happy anniversary," I whisper as I kiss her awake.

"Happy anniversary... you smell good," she mumbles, running her fingers along my jawline. "You shaved... Did you do that for me?" she grins.

"You can admit it now that it's gone, you never liked the beard," I chuckle and once she's pushed herself up into a seated position I place the tray of food into her lap.

"It was starting to grow on me. No pun intended. I'm glad you kept some of it, I like you moderately scruffy," she admits, kissing me and stroking my face again. She's got some fierce morning breath going on, but I don't mind.

"Just like?" I wonder.

"Maybe a little more than like," she sighs against my mouth.

After a bit more kissing, she puts some music on her phone and we start to eat.

"This looks so good, thanks babe! And you used our Mr. and Mrs. mugs!" Lia beams down at the two plates of blueberry waffles. She picks up her cup and takes a grateful sip of her coffee. The sound that comes out of her mouth is practically erotic, which makes me laugh.

She's always taken her coffee with way too much cream and sugar. I take a sip of mine. It's black, with only half a spoonful of sugar.

"Did you notice the flowers?" I ask.

I think she was too preoccupied with the waffles and coffee, because the moment she spots the pink and white roses in the waterless vase she starts to laugh.

"Are they made of paper? That's so cute!" she says.

"That's not your present, don't worry, I've got another one for you afterward," I smirk.

"I've got one for you too," she tells me as she cuts into her first waffle and stuffs a giant piece into her mouth. "These are so good! You're the best, I'm glad I married you," she moans.

"I know," I reply and grab a strawberry for the bowl between our two plates, popping it into my mouth.

We're quiet for a while as the music switches over to one of the many country songs we danced to that evening exactly a year ago today. There's a warm breeze coming through our open bedroom window. Lia's been brushing hair out of her face for the last five minutes, but it keeps coming back. I laugh and tuck a strand behind her ear.

Waiting For YouWhere stories live. Discover now