Our Vows Don't Mean A Thing (Completed)

Chapter 4

I knocked on the wooden door and entered, he sat on his bed, his face buried in a book once more. Didn't this kid know about fun? My heart ached once more.

"Hey there." I smiled and walked over to the chair in the corner of the room. I sat down and smiled back at him.

"Hey." He replied. "I wasn't expecting to see you today." He responded.

"I know, I just wanted to visit you. Thought you could use the company." I smiled.

"I could always use the company. Kids here aren't really accommodating." He replied and my smile sank a bit. He was always so alone.

"Well, I brought something for you." I handed the basket to him and he took it, he looked at me questioningly. "Cookies." I smiled.

His eyes lit up. "Chocolate chip?" He asked

"Of course!" I Muttered.

"Thanks!" he replied.

"No problem! It's nice to bake for someone who enjoys chocolate. Anyhow, I wanted to ask you something."

He stared at me in clear encouragement to continue.

"Do you want to accompany me to my mother in laws on Saturday? You can stay the night over." I asked and he frowned.

"I'll have to study." He replied.

"Come on, even you need a break from work." I tried to persuade.

He stared off in contemplation, "Is your husband gonna be there?" he asked and I laughed.

"Absolutely not," I responded.

"Good. I am not too fond of him sort of acts if the world revolves around his every action," he replied honestly and I smiled. No one was ever fond of Brad, well expect women of course.

I set the table and laid out the food and waited. What time was it? Was he even coming home to dinner? I poured myself a glass of wine. Pretty soon one glass turned into much much more. I'd lost count.

Brad was still not home. I rose from the table and walked unsteadily, I glanced at the clock. It was half eight. Couldn't he have some decency and at least call? My stomach knotted, was he with her?

I was about to load the dishes when I heard the front door open. Brad walked into the kitchen and sat at the table. I saw him study the bottle of wine and then I felt his gaze on me.

"Are you drunk?" he sounded amused. How dare he try to make conversation with me? I didn't want to talk to him.

I sat at the table without saying a word. A normal, considerate person would apologize for being late, but not Brad.

I looked at him eating. I suddenly lost any appetite I might have had. I poured myself another glass of wine.

"You should slow down." He eyed me seriously and I grew angry.

"Now you're telling me how much I should drink? Next thing you'll tell me I can't leave the house without your permission!" I retorted.

"Don't tempt me." He responded his jaw tight.

I laughed humorously, the effect of the alcohol making me braver in my speech.

"What about children Brad? Will you deny me that too?" I asked, my eyes squinting to look at him.

"We are not having children, Angela." His voice hard and decisive.

"Why not? You don't want to give me a divorce and now I can't have children? Why are you torturing me?" I demanded.

"I am not going to sleep with you, Angela." He remarked and I burned. The humiliation from Rose's words filling me. I know my husband didn't want me and hell I didn't want him either! But the way he said it bruised my self-esteem.

"I am not asking that. If I have a child it won't be ours." I stated.

He rose his eyebrows at me. "Then who do you suppose would be its father?" he snapped.

"An anonymous donor? I don't know? I could also adopt." I was pleading. I could hear it in my voice.

"Absolutely not. I am not allowing you to breed a child with some unknown man's DNA, besides I don't want children." He was so cold.

"Well, I want children!" I rose from the chair unsteadily. "Allow me this one thing, please?"

"No." his tone was authoritative and held an air of finality.

I walked closer to him, I looked down at him our eyes connecting, my voice low. "Why not? If you have a problem with the donor being anonymous I could find someone too..."

My speech was interrupted when he grabbed hold of my wrists. This grasp wasn't particularly confining but the cuts on my arm screamed at the contact and I felt the tears clouding my eyes.

"Angela, I said no." His voice was low and persuasive. I couldn't speak, the pain shooting through my arm was too pronounced.