Loved in Shades (A Jaylor Fanfiction)

Black

   I think I've seen this film before and I didn't like
                               the ending
Six Months Later; January 2nd 2021
*flashback*
Taylor Swift's Point of View
I pace back and forth in our bedroom. Fear running over my shoulders. Should I tell him or run away? I should leave and never come back. No, I can't do that, I'm not a coward. Cowards walk away when they're scared. I'll just stand up and say it to him and maybe he'll have a good reaction. Oh god, what if he doesn't? Like it'll change anything about our relationship honestly. We're mad at each other all the time. Just do it Taylor, walk downstairs and just say it. Rip off the bandaid. This feels more like waxing my legs then ripping off a bandaid. That shit hurts way more. I inhale for 5 counts and hold my breath before exhaling for 5 counts. Okay, I can do this.
I finally walk downstairs where Joe is watching some T.V show. Honestly, whoever gets to the T.V first gets rights to choose the channel now. Sometimes I think he watches stuff I don't like just to spite me...or he has horrible taste in films. When I'm down there I stop on the final step, like I can't go on the same floor. I freeze in place and it feels like my feet are glued to the ground.

"Taylor, you've been standing on the steps for 10 minutes. What is it?" Joe says.

"So now you notice me?" God do we even talk anymore without it being an argument?

"Yeah because you're blocking the way to upstairs where I was gonna go. Taylor, what the hell do you want?"

"I'm pregnant." The words slip out of my mouth like an ice cube being hit across the floor...weird analogy.

"Ah fuck." Those are his first words of choice, honestly I don't feel much different.

"Well, I think I am. I'm not 100% sure...I just feel like I am. I have been getting sick and my boobs kinda hurt-"

"I don't care what you think. Let's just go upstairs and you can take a pregnancy test."

"Okay..."

We both head upstairs and he sits outside on my bed while I take the test. I finish after a bit and wash my hands. I then walk outside holding the test. The test is set on my nightstand and I turn the timer on my phone to go off in four minutes.

Joe looks at me with an annoyed face. "So?"

"We're gonna have to wait a few minutes. I know, the world is gonna implode with the both of us in the same room for more than 30 seconds."

Joe sighs before finally speaking. "Taylor, if it's negative, I'm leaving. I'm going to pack a bag, and leave this place. If it's positive, I'll stay until the baby dies."

"Damn, you really have no faith in my uterus."

"No. No I don't because your uterus is a freaking death chair. Any baby in there is gonna die."

"Wow and we're back to this. Sorry that I have crap biology." Why is every word we speak to each other passive aggressive or sarcasm? Why don't we ever have a conversation of decency?

"Why do you even want to stay together? I've been trapped in this fucking prison camp for months cause you won't let me leave."

"Because you're my husband. I love you and better or for worse...I'm stuck with you."

"Sometimes divorce is healthy. Sometimes is for the better."

"Joe, the only reason this hasn't been working out is because you refuse to fight for us. You refuse to put any work into this marriage and try and fix it. Why the hell won't you fight for us?" I ask.