Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A Lie Isn't a Lie if You Don't Tell It.
"A hysterical pregnancy?" Terri demanded of the doctor, her eyes wide. "What does that even mean?"
"Well," the doctor began to explain,"It means that you aren't pregnant. That you wanted to be so much…" Terri tuned out after that. All she could think about was the fact that she wasn't pregnant. She wasn't pregnant, but she had wanted to be. She had wanted to be because she could feel him slipping away.
She didn't know how to tell him she wasn't pregnant. She felt like she was holding on to their marriage by a thread. She wasn't even sure what had changed between them, but she did know, that she wanted to make it work. She loved Will. But to tell him she had imagined a pregnancy. She could just see them, everything they ever shared, every kiss, every hug, every I love you slipping away in the blink of an eye. Her sister wanted her to pretend to be pregnant anyway. Like some bad rendition of Baby Mama with Amy Poehler. And hopefully she'd get pregnant before then. Or find a baby.
The front door opened and Will walked into the apartment. His nostrils were immediately assailed with the scent of chicken pot pie. One of Terri's specialties. He smiled as he set down his briefcase and then took of his coat, hanging it on the hook near the door. "Honey, I'm—" he called out, being cut off by the appearance of his wife as he walked into the dining room.
The table was set with the fancy settings. Candles were lit. And for a moment, he just admired his wife, how her skin glowed, how her hair shone slightly golden in the candle light. For a moment, he remembered her beauty and all the reasons that he decided to be with her, in high school and beyond.
She gave a thin lipped stiff smile. "Sit," she told him. And then he realized that things weren't right. He could see the tension in her jaw, the stiffness of her shoulders and back. She lacked the usual force that she existed with. The force that threatened to overpower you if you let it. That often did over power him, if he were honest. The force that pretty much made sure that he always did what she wanted. But now it was absent. And to see her so small, so sullen, so deflated, made him worry. He didn't question her, he sat. She sat. They stared for a long moment before she gave a small laugh full of tension and said,"Eat." And he felt compelled to oblige her, with how she looked the behavior. "This is really good," he complimented. But he felt silly talking about the quality of her cooking when there were obviously so many other things going on. How long would they dance around it?
She let out a long even breath, looking over at him. She tried to summon the lie, the words that could turn this into a happy occasion. The words that wouldn't make her out to be crazy. The words, that assuming she could get pregnant soon would fix everything. But as she looked across the table at him, her eyes finding his. And she felt the jangle of nerves. She saw the concern and worry flooding his eyes. He was such a nice guy. Wonderful. "I have news," she spoke, her voice shaking. She couldn't decide what to do. To lie. To tell the truth. Unsure if it even really mattered anymore. Maybe he was too far gone now. Maybe they were too far gone.
The words that she had news, reminded Will about what today was. She had gone to the doctor today, to find out if she was pregnant or not. A voice at the back of his mind told him that something was wrong, something was changing. She had never asked him to go. And he hadn't volunteered. Wasn't this something married couples should do together? Shouldn't he already know the news? He reached up and loosened his tie a little. "And?" Shouldn't he not feel like he was suffocating at the thought of having a baby with her.
As she stared into his eyes, Terri couldn't do it. She couldn't look into his eyes. Worried, concerned, loving eyes, and tell him a lie. She felt like she had to though. And then she cried. What could she do? What could she ever do to fix this?
He got up from his chair and moved across the room to kneel next to her as fast as he could. "Hey," he said to her, cradling her face in his hands, wiping away her tears. "What? What is it?" His voice practically a whisper.
She leaned into his palm. She relished his touch. The look like she was still important. She worried what he might do when she spoke the words that she wasn't pregnant. That she had imagined it all. "Will," she gasped out. She took a few shuddering breaths before saying, "There is no baby." And then she sobbed.
Will looked at her in shock for a moment. And then he felt guilty for the relief that came over him in a wave. "You miscarried?" In response, she continued to sob. She knew it wasn't right, that technically it was a lie too, but it was a lie that they could both live with.
Will soothed Terri, pulled her into his lap and rocked her,"I'm right here," he promised,"I'm here for you through this. Everything will be okay. We can always try again." And his words, as she leaned against his chest, soaking his sweater vest with her tears, were possibly the first soothing words amongst the ones that they'd spoken to each other in years. He was hers. He was with her. He was hers. They were together. And it would be forever, like they promised the day they got married.