They were like ships in the night.
They spoke when they needed to, while most nights were filled with only the sounds of their feet as they padded through the house. She would sleep in the bed in the middle of the master bedroom on the second floor while he would sleep on the bed in the guest room on the other side of the house on the first floor.
He would wake up at nine o'clock in the morning, and find the house already empty, only his presence coursing through the halls.
When she would leave, he would ask himself questions like "what are we doing wrong?" and "how did we get here?"
She used to leave little pink heart notes in the same spot on the counter, next to the coffee pot where she knew he would find it. Now, the counter was empty, no trace of a note, and no faint scent of her perfume, at least letting him know she possibly thought about leaving one.
They never mentioned divorce, but he knew she thought about it, and he would be lying if he said he didn't think of it from time to time. Though, as much as he may have thought about it – he would never consider it…never.
He couldn't remember a time that things were as hard as they are now. She was out of work, and he was gone a few weeks out of every month to film for different casting calls he received.
He walks into the living room, glancing around, his eyes landing on the large wall at stairs, looking to the overlay of photos that hang in frames that she carefully picked out, pictures from the first week they had met, all the way to their wedding. As his eyes landed on the last photo on their wall, his eyes pooled with fresh tears at the sight of how happy and in love they were.
Were. Past tense.
He loved her…of course he did. He loved her so much it hurt him when she refused to look him in the eyes when he tried to talk to her. It made his stomach tighten into knots whenever she pulled into a dress, preparing herself to go out somewhere without him. It tugged at his heart when she would walk out of the shower, and breeze past him as if he weren't even there. It burned his fingers when they grazed hers as they were hustling busily to try and get something done.
The only question in his mind was if she still loved him.
As he looked up from the picture, he heard the sound of her car alarm beeping, letting him know she was home.
Usually, he would dissipate; go somewhere that he knew she wouldn't come and see him. But this particular time, he waited. He waited for her key to turn in the lock, unlocking it. He waited for the door to swing open, and when it did, he adverted his attention to her. His wife. The love of his life. His soul mate. The woman with the long brown waves that hung below her breasts that he loved to run his fingers through. The woman who married him on a winter day even though she wanted a summer day. The woman who he now barely recognized.
Her hair was cut – all of it. Off. It hung straight just below her chin, faint bangs swept to the side of her face, allowing him to still see the big eyes he so adored. It was darker – shinier. Her clothes were a bit baggier, hiding the one thing he knew she hated showing.
Their eyes met, and she blinked twice, her lashes fluttering as she took note in the pain coursing through his eyes, causing her to hold her breath as she faced him for what felt like the first time in months.
She wanted to reach out. To touch him. To grab his arm, dig her nails into it, never letting go. She loved him more than she ever expected to love anything – or anyone. It hurt her to see him hurt. It killed her. It made her feel like a failure, like the devil for causing this beautiful man with so much hurt and pain.
As she looked at him, she noticed the stubble growing along his jawline, chin and upper lip. He never grew out his facial hair – only when he was in distress…or depressed. When did he become so damaged? When had she become such a horrible wife that she couldn't even recognize her own husband? He was the love of her life. He was her rock – her soul – her everything. He kept her in check; made her whole.
Somehow she had become this woman – without him.
Why couldn't she let him love her? Why couldn't she let herself love him? When did they get to this?
A million thoughts raced through her mind, her heart beating miles a minute. She had butterflies – something she hadn't felt since years ago. Here she was, a twenty-eight year old woman, married to a man who she fell in love with back when she was just twenty-one years old – just a child, and somehow she felt like they had done every single thing wrong.
He stared down into her big brown eyes, letting his tears stream his face, one after the other in hot streams down to his neck. She watched, bile burning her throat, trying to keep herself together. It felt like knives were stabbing every available inch of her body as she watched the man she loved more than her own life; cry. It was a sight that she hated more than anything. She would rather have pins stabbing her eyes rather than having to watch him break apart in front of her.
"I love you." He told her softly, his eyes never leaving hers.
Her eyes darted from eye to eye, filling with tears of her own as she looked at her broken husband.
I'm killing him. She thought.
This is over. He thought.
She parted her lips slowly, jetting them shut soon after, letting the heavy weight in her land to the floor, and stepping forward and pulling his body to hers, so closely she felt his heartbeat against her skin.
"I love you." She said back, gripping his tee shirt in her hands, holding onto him as if he would leave at any second.
He breathed in the faint smell of hair dye and berry shampoo, his tears lost in her locks along with his fingers. He held his eyes closed tight, lost in the moment he had been waiting to feel for too long.
He felt warm wetness cling to his body as her tears seeped through the fabric.
He held her head close to his chest, his heart beating wildly at how good it felt to hold his wife in his arms again. He couldn't recall the last time they were together like this – it felt like love.
"Daddy?" He heard the soft sound, and opened his eyes to see the small brown haired girl in front of him, looking down next to the baby seat that his wife had put to the floor just seconds before.
He looked into the eyes that were the exact replica of his wife, seeing the face of the child who had brought them so far apart.
"Yes, angel." He replied, slowly letting go of his wife, making his way over her.
He crouched down to her, his large hand enveloping hers as he pulled her up into his arms, closing the door behind her.
He kissed her hair, before walking past the woman who had given him the gift he was holding in his arms.
..
"I'm ready." He heard her voice, and it brought his head up fast, catching her stare with his.
As he looked up at her, he noticed the glisten of raspberry colored lip balm that stained her lips, a glow of light hitting her tanned skin. He looked up at her, and he felt himself fall in love with the woman he saw right then and right there.
"Ready?" He asked, not moving from his spot on the bed as he fingered through pages of script.
"Please, Cory…just stop this! I can't do this anymore! Why are you doing this to us? I love you!" She said, throwing her hands up into the air.
Her loud words dug through his skin like needles, the pitch of her voice piercing his ears; making the anger in him rise higher. He had been so angry at her for so long, and here she was. Small and petite, yelling at him as if he was the reason all of this was happening to her. He was so much larger than her – he had more control over this.
He looked to the floor for longer than a brief second, getting up from the bed in a fit of rage as he jabbed his finger into his chest.
"Me? You want me to stop?! Are you fucking kidding me? Who do you think you are?" He seethed at her, his face just mere inches from hers.
He watched her eyes flutter, and he could tell she was upset – fuck he was too! He was upset for the past year.
He walked into the bedroom at four o'clock in the morning, the only light filling the room coming from the small alarm clock on the side of her bedside table, giving the room a yellow glow. He looked over to the bed, finding his wife awake and sitting up, looking at him as he took off his black leather coat, hanging it on the hanger beside the closet.
She didn't say anything to him, but as she unfolded the covers from her small body, her thin lace nightgown had ridden up her legs, attached to her panties giving him a view he hadn't seen in what seemed like an eternity.
He could make out the small bump underneath her clothing, the swollen lump hanging low on her abdomen that was currently holding their baby.
"I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow night." She said, not caring to whisper.
"I wasn't expecting you to be awake." He said back, his tone emotionless as he sat on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes.
As he un-did the laces, he heard her feet padding over to him, and he felt her stare on him as she stood just inches away from him. He paused his movements, and looked up at her slowly, meeting her eyes with his.
"What's the matter?" He asked, unsure if she would even give him an answer.
"I really hate you, you know?" She said softly, her voice so small. He knew she was angry, upset, betrayed. He didn't want to leave so often…but what other choice did he really have? The week prior, he had left early in the morning, texting her as soon as he got out of the house, letting her know he would be gone for the week. A text hurt much less than actual words would.
He stared back at her, knowing that if he said anything he wouldn't get even one word out of her for the next month, so he decided to stay quiet, and instead rise to his feet and grab her by her shoulders, gently pushing her backwards into their dresser.
"What are you doing…stop…" She started, putting her hand up against his chest, pushing gently with her fingertips. He didn't budge.
"I missed you." He says to her, leaning his head down to her mouth. She hesitates at first, turning her neck away from him, but turning it slowly back when he doesn't retract his body from her.
She looks up at him, and before she can wonder what to do next, his lips are on hers, his tongue brushing her bottom lip, asking for entry. She complies, parting her lips just slightly, as he takes the opportunity to push his tongue harshly all the way through into her mouth.
His hands move frantically all around her body, hungry with desire – missing the warm skin of his wife, trying to savor every movement.
His hands go to the hem of her shirt, and he pushes away her hand as she tries to stop him. He tears the thin material of her small gown off of her body ignoring her shouting and punches on his chest trying to get him to stop.
She slapped his cheek, leaving a red stinging burn on his face behind. He didn't try to reciprocate, or even get angry with her. He needed her – so bad. He loved this girl, and although he hadn't wanted it to come to this, it had.
He tore her panties down her legs, kicking them off of her feet before spreading her thighs with his hand against the wood of the dresser, looking down quickly to position himself at her entrance. He stopped to glare at the small stomach she had, touching it lightly with his fingers. Without warning, he slid into her with one swift movement, sending her body backward into the dresser, stilling as he pushed all of himself inside her.
He squeezed her thighs with his hands, leaving red finger marks on her skin. He moved one hand to her face, holding her cheek to his, looking at himself in the mirror behind him. He stared into his own eyes, knowing he wouldn't be able to do so in the morning. He would hate himself by then for sure.
He fucked her, while tears were brimming his eyelids as he stared back at himself, tangling his hand into her hair, closing his eyes as he breathed in her scent. He didn't want it this way. He wanted all of her, he wanted to do all those things that would make her happy. He wanted to do all of the things husbands and wives did together. Make love to her – not like this. Not when she carelessly let him, not even being able to look him in the eyes.
He pulled back, bringing her face up with his hand to meet his, her cheeks slightly puffed from his hand squeezing them. She looked at his mouth, his nose, his hair – but not his eyes.
"Cum for me." He groaned, as he rammed himself in and out of her hard and fast, feeling her tighten around him as he felt himself nearing the edge. As he came, he felt her contract around his cock, letting herself go at that same moment.
As she opened her mouth to let a small moan escape, she looked up into his eyes as he kissed her hard and quickly, leaving her red and swollen. He looked back down to her.
"Fuck you, Lea." He seethed through gritted teeth.
"Here you are – looking like you, but not looking like you. I don't even know who you are anymore, Lea! Where is my wife? The little ball of energy that I married four years ago? The woman who always smiled, always held my hand, always told me that we were perfect? I don't see her anymore! Christ, Lea…who are you?" He asked, the harshness of his tone chilling her bones, questioning herself why she even attempted this.
She parted her mouth to speak, but he took the opportunity to make her understand.
"Everything we say to each other somehow turns into a fight. I get it – this is your dream. Acting, singing, performing. Not us, baby…no. We aren't your dream. We're just little obstacles in your way. I get it! I messed it up for you. I ruined you. I'm so sorry. I say something wrong, and I have fists flying to my mouth. God forbid I offend you, or ruin your plans. God forbid I tell you how beautiful you are…" He couldn't find the right words. He thought about this for ages, thinking and running over what he would say to her to get her to sense up and realize that she was ruining their marriage, and more importantly – their family.
She crossed her arms across her small body, crossing the silk fabric of her black robe tighter together as she braced herself for what she knew was coming. He wanted a fight? She was going to give him a fight.
"You left me alone in this! I've been leading this family since the day she was born! All you do is sit around, moping at the fact that we actually have a life. I'm so so sorry that I got pregnant back then, and forced you into this marriage with a woman you didn't know if you loved! I'm just so fucking sorry!" She screamed, holding still and strong as she fought for herself.
"Oh, please…please just keep making this about you! I just love hearing about how I treat you like shit, and how I don't care about you, or about them! Keep it coming sweetheart, because I love truly love hearing it!" He said, before picking himself back up before she got a chance to speak.
"How dare you even say those things to me! You know I love them more than my own life! I would die before I let either of them even think I feel otherwise! They're my children…our children…of course I love them!" He shouted back at her.
She rose her chin, sucking a large breath of air before her tears took control of her.
"What about me? Me…your wife, Cory. I'm your wife." He words were quiet, but they hit his heart like arrows.
"I love you so fucking much, that sometimes I can't even stand the feeling I have when I see you. Its like this ghost of who you used to be, and I try to grab onto you, to hold you, to touch you, to feel you…and nothing! Why are you so far away from me?" He said, his eyes adverting to hers, holding her stare.
She looked up at him, crying. He tears fell freely, and she didn't care to wipe them away, or try to hold them back.
"How did we get here? Why are we here?" She asked, her voice hushed, hoping he would hear them.
As he battled his emotions, he felt rage when he looked at her, but was overwhelmed with the amount of love and worship that he felt when he truly looked at her. She was perfect, and she was his. He knew this – so why couldn't he just feel it.
There was nothing that he wanted to do more than to take her into his arms, and never let her go, but they weren't the same people that they used to be, and he hated that.
"Your never here. I'm the one who had to pick up the pieces when you walked out on us. I was the one who had to tell our daughter why her daddy wasn't at dinner for four months. Four months, Cory! Where were you!?" She yelled, pointing her finger at him.
"I was a coward, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I got scared and I ran? Yes, okay? I was a coward and I ran. I was afraid. Afraid of what I didn't know, and what I couldn't see. I felt like we built these huge walls around us, and they were suddenly coming crashing down on top of us." He said slowly, his voice calming after he got everything out that he needed to.
"You betrayed me. You made a fool of me. You left me alone to handle a three year old. Never mind that we had a baby on the way, Cory! We created them together and you left me to care for them by myself. You stand there blaming me for your problems. Acting like I'm to blame. How dare you do this to me? You know I love you. You know I still want you as much as I did back when we were young kids. You think I like living like this? I wake up every day wondering if I'll bump into you trying to get something from the pantry, or pass you while trying to get the baby and make things even more distant than they already are! We're like strangers! I hate living like this! I want you. I love you. I care about you. You're my husband, baby. Please just come back to me." By now, she had let a few pooling tears down her face.
She had made her way to him, her hands cupping his face in her palms, forcing her words into him.
He took a deep breath, and pulled her into his arms. He couldn't fight anymore. There was nothing to fight for. Everything he wanted and needed had been in front of him and in his reach this entire time, and he was too afraid to take it back.
He cried with her. He shook in her arms as she shook in his. They were broken together. The only solution was to fix themselves together.
"I was always with you, baby. I was always here." He whispered, holding her to him tightly. "I love you more than my own life. You and our girls. You're my life. I'm so sorry I ever risked losing that. I don't know…I don't know why I am the way I am. Jesus – I married you. I took vows with you that I'm going to hold up forever. I promise." He said, holding her face in his hands, his warm breath melting her tears away.
"You married me. You gave us a baby. Two of them. Two beautiful little girls, Cory. You're the most amazing man I've ever known. You're the man of my dreams. I don't want to waste another second not living our life together. I don't want to wake up tomorrow and it be like yesterday, or the past year." She said, wiping her tears with her sleeve as she sat down onto the bed, pulling him down with her.
"I want to tell you where I was this morning." She started.
He sat on the edge of their bed, his head in his hands, watching her walk laps in their bedroom.
"Baby, please look at me…you have to stop this. You can't keep doing this to me. You think I don't already feel terrible? Please, Lea, baby…stop!" he nearly shouted, stopping her feet in her tracks as she turned and looked at him.
"I have to, Cory…I can't stand this!" She shouted back, getting frustrated.
"Baby, it's okay. I know this is hard for you – hell, it's fucking hard for me too. But we're in this together, you know you're not alone. Come on, please stop this." He said, getting up from the bed, towering over her small frame before taking her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest. He listened to the fast heartbeat that pounded furiously in his girlfriend's chest, sending her into panic.
He tried to block the sounds around him out, and take his mind off of what was eating away at both of their hearts – their baby.
Her cries had seemed to get worse, progressing to a louder volume every five minutes or so.
She was only about four months old, and it was the hardest thing to refrain from running to her every wail, and holding her in his arms.
It seemed like abuse to him, and even though the doctors told them it was okay to let her cry, it still tugged at his heart strings. How hard it was to hear his child – his baby cry for him and not be able to just take the pain away.
They always broke down at some point – every time. He knew this time would be no different, and eventually either he or Lea would take off running down the hallway to collect their infant daughter.
He was scared shitless when she first told him she was pregnant.
He hadn't gotten the chance to ponder the idea of having children before she found out that she was already pregnant with his baby. They hadn't even spoke about getting married, much less having a baby.
He thinks back to the way he felt when she told him – how he thought about walking out for a brief second before reality slapped him in the face. He couldn't dare leave her. If he loved her as much as he did, why wouldn't he love a baby that was a part of her just as much? He loved her, and he would love their baby.
He juggled her midnight cravings, and he faced the stress of picking out an engagement ring while she was pregnant. He knew her fingers were swollen, but he wanted to make her his wife – and he would. Her found a perfect ring, after weeks of battles with her about how she had no rings that fit her at that time, and her constant questions about why he was so curious about her finger size.
He proposed when she was four months pregnant, after finally picking out an oval cushion cut ring, as big as her finger nail with small diamonds surrounding it. They married at her sixth month mark, throwing a big wedding at a venue in Hawaii surrounded by their family and close friends.
He was so proud that day – marrying the woman of his dreams. Seeing her in that long white dress made him feel like a man.
When Evelyn was born, he was the proudest man in the world. He promised her that he could and would always be there for her, protect her, provide for her, and guide her for every step of her life.
She weighed 6 pounds, and 2 ounces – tiny for a baby that was his. She was this little person in his arms that he created with his wife, and it had turned into this beautiful little miracle right before his eyes.
It gave him purpose – something to live for. He was a father. He was someone's dad. He was a husband and a father.
"Why would you do that? Why…what? Why would you go to a lawyer…I – " He started, unable to look her in the eyes.
He knew he didn't have to ask her why she would go to a lawyer. Hell, he already knew. The thought of his wife going to their lawyer, asking for a divorce write up nauseated him. The only thing that pushed him farther was the fact that he was the reason that she would do such a thing. It was his fault, after all.
"I couldn't go through with it." She stated simply, cutting her words off bluntly, looking back to him waiting for his response.
He didn't say anything – not a word. The mere fact that she had even jumbled up this insane idea to go and get a divorce paper…and take his children with her made his blood boil.
"How could you do this? How could you do that, Lea?" He asked, only getting silence in return.
He thought she loved him. If the roles were reversed, the thought would never have even have crossed his mind. She considered divorce. She considered leaving him – breaking apart their family. He couldn't come to terms with that. He felt resentment, anger, hatred, and finally, he felt love for her.
As much as he wanted to laugh in her face, and walk away from her leaving her to realize what she had done, he couldn't. Even after hearing that the mother of his children had thought about leaving him, he still loved her just as much as he did before she told him that.
In those short seconds, it occurred to him that if this didn't make him love her less, nothing would.
"Of course you couldn't go through with it. Because I am your husband. You promised to be faithful. To stay with me through sickness and health…" He trailed off, stepping closer to her, effectively cornering her against the nearest wall. "…You promised to love me through thick and thin. To only part at death. For better, for worse." He said softly, his lips hovering above hers, his breath tingling her cold skin.
"Cory…" She started, but he stilled her words with his lips crashing down onto hers, pulling her body to his as he searched for any and every part of her he could touch with his hands. Her body couldn't get close enough to him as he grabbed at her skin, hot under his touch.
"You could never leave me." He said between kisses, mumbling on her lips. She tangled her hands into his hair as he slid his hands down her body to her legs, hoisting the silk fabric up, feeling the smooth skin of her thighs under his palms.
He picked her up effortlessly, pressing her body with his.
She leaned her head back to the wall, as he attached his lips to her throat, swirling his tongue over her collarbones up to her chin, holding her face firmly in his hand.
"I love you so much." She moaned, earning his ears, his eyes connecting with hers after she said it. "I love you, baby." She said again, as his hands moved to the tie of her robe, easily pulling the string causing the thin material to fall silently to the floor, leaving her vulnerable and exposed for him.
"Don't hide from me." He commanded, knowing she would grab for the one area she hated.
He placed his hands on her small stomach, feeling the tightness there. "Don't ever hide from me." He told her, as he dropped to his knees. He pressed his lips to every inch of her tanned belly he could. She hated it – the way she felt about her body after having two of his babies made her feel insecure, and he hated that she felt that way. She was just as beautiful as the day he met her. Hell, she was thousands of times more beautiful than that day.
She had gone through every change under the sun throughout the course of their relationship, the most recent being the short bob mommy haircut she had gotten this morning that he had realized that he absolutely fucking loved.
"You're so perfect, baby. Every single part of you is so fucking beautiful. Just let me love you." He said, moving his hands against her stomach, smoothing over the small marks that were left from the two girls sleeping down the hallway.
"I can't do this anymore. Come home to me." She said, pulling on his arms as he moved up, holding her forearms in his palms.
"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, I promise." He told her, cupping her face in his hands as he placed soft kisses over both of her eyelids, her nose, and her forehead. He wrapped his arms around her small frame, holding her head with one hand against his chest.
He was her husband. He was a father. He was going to start living those parts.
He slowly bent down to gather the robe from the floor, wrapping it around his wife, over her shoulders as she moved her arms through, letting it fall around her body. He pulled the sides together, and tired a small bow in the band. He moved his hand down to hers, and pulled her gently forward.
He led her out into the hallway, stopping at the third door on the left. He could hear the faint sound of nursery tunes as he cracked open the door. He pulled her through, gently picking her up and placing her down onto the rocking chair in the corner of the room. He kissed her forehead once, and turned around to make his way to the crib.
He looked down to the sleeping baby, scooping her into his arms, resting her small head on his shoulder cradling her head in his hand. He turned back around, looking over to her as she smiled to him. God, how much he had missed that smile. He couldn't recall the last time he truly saw it.
He placed a soft kiss atop the baby's head, brushing her thin chestnut hair down with his fingers.
He sat next to her on the chair, pulling her into him. She gazed up at the baby sleeping on his shoulder, and placed her hand on her back, rubbing small circles.
"I never thanked you." He whispered, looking down at his wife. Naturally, he had thanked her over and over again on the day she was born, telling her how amazing she was and how he looked up to her. How she was his wonder woman. But he never really thanked her.
"You don't have to. It goes without saying." She told him, giving him a weak smile, her eyes flooded with exhaustion.
"No it doesn't. You gave me this beautiful family. These two beautiful girls that I cherish so deeply. You gave me you, baby. I have the three most amazing and perfect girls in my life, and I don't know how I got so lucky. You gave me something to live for – something I never knew I wanted, but something I couldn't imagine ever living without. I don't want to spend another second wasting my life without you or them in it every second I can have you. I'm so sorry…so sorry." He was crying by now, tears falling down his face onto his shirt.
Before she could answer, she caught a movement in the corner of her eye, adverting them to the door, finding their daughter standing in the doorframe, rubbing her eye with one hand and holding a teddy bear with the other.
He followed her eyes, and smiled when he saw her. He nodded his head to her, telling her to come over. She dropped the toy to the floor, and ran to her mother.
"I had a bad dweam." She told her parents, both of them smiling smally down at their little girl.
"It's okay, baby doll. Mommy and Daddy have you." She whispered to their daughter. She combed her fingers through her long brown hair, letting her rest her head against her chest.
Once they had settled a bit, she looked back up to her husband, and took his hand.
"I'll go with you anywhere. I'll follow you to the ends of the earth before I let you go." She told him, resting her head on his arm. "I'm ready for anything." She said, closing her eyes.