Love me...

Do You Like Children?

Another flash.

Earlier that night, sitting up on her bed, the blankets bunched all around her, as she stared at the dark wall. A clock somewhere chimed. Christine worried her lip, unable to sleep even a little bit. Was it the baby's fault she couldn't sleep?

No, of course not. It wasn't the child's fault. It was the fact she was going to have a baby........................

Going to have a baby, but she knew not how her husband would take it....

She knew he liked children, loved beauty...

But things between them were not ideal for their child.....They almost never spoke, and slept separately.....................

And if it could be helped, he didn't touch her.

How would they raise this baby, then?

"Christine, Angel, what is troubling you?" His face was tilted towards her, eyes earnest, concerned.

They were tender. She looked up at him with wide, troubled eyes, her hands somehow finding their way to her stomach.

This time, his hands touched her shoulders, lightly.

That simple touch sent her hormones flying crazily. She couldn't control herself. She threw her arms around Erik, pressing her face tightly into his chest. His gasp was more than audible.

She felt herself being wrenched from his chest. He pushed her to arms length, staring at her as if she'd grown another head. "What is the matter, Christine?" He cried.

"I just wanted to show you some affection—I am your wife, aren't I?" She stuttered, dejection waves spilling through her. "In the five years we have been married, you never seemed to want that." His arms were crossed over his chest now. "I was afraid!" Christine cried, riding the wave of annoyance her hormones were producing. Erik looked taken aback and very angry, "Afraid of what?" "Your reaction, Erik! And I-I just didn't know how to tell you and we never talk and-and what are we going to do?! This marriage is-is....and the-the...." She let out a choked sob, gently hitting his chest with her fists, burying her head in his chest.

"Christine," He whispered, "what brought this on? Are you alright?" She looked up at him, biting her lip. "Yes, I'm alright...."

"Then what is the matter?" His voice was still soft.

She looked up at him, "Do you remember that night, four months ago?" He looked puzzled, "What night?" "June twelfth...." She watched his face become shocked. "Why are you asking Erik this?"

She inhaled, "Erik......I'm with child."

There, she'd said it.

"It was one night! How is that even possible?!"

His comment brought her eyes back to his face, horror becoming the dominant emotion in her.

He did not want the child!

But she did not see anger directed at herself—it was self-loathing she saw. He swivelled to face her, hands pressing into her shoulders. "Oh, Christine, I am so very sorry...................... I was very drunk at the time—as you very well know............I-I..... I'm sorry."

He looked so earnest, and sad. "I've heard there are—there are ways of removing a—removing unwanted things............."

He did not want their child......!!

Christine spun away from him, storming her way to his bed. She would not face him—she would not!

"Christine! Oh, Christine! Forgive your Erik for what he has done to you!" He cried, and was in front of her faster than she thought he was capable of moving. She looked up at him, feeling the waterworks start. He seemed to take that as a sign, drawing her into his arms, placing a hand on her head. "Oh, hush now, I'll—I'll get the child removed..."