Mistake:
She hadn't realised it at the time, her head was pounding and she was still adjusting to the bright light that filled the room, but it felt different when she woke up. Something had changed, some feeling inside. Rolling over, Renée turned to see the sleeping body of her husband. Husband. She tested the word on her tongue, noticing the bitter taste it left in her mouth.
She lay still, watching Charlie's chest rise as he breathed slowly, in-and-out, completely unaware of the woman watching him. His smooth brow was completely free of lines, his curly brown hair crushed up against the pillow. Renée gazed at the man lying next to her; just yesterday she had adored him. Now, she could barely see why. It was like waking up with a hangover and being unable to make sense of anything, it was clear that sense had not entered her decision, nothing had prevented her from marrying Charlie Swann, and it was only now; far too late, that she was realising her mistake.
Panic flared in her stomach, she was only just out of school, and married! Attached to someone until the end of her life. She stood up sharply, grabbing her clothes as she ran to the bathroom, praying a hot shower would help sooth the butterflies fluttering hysterically in her stomach.
Standing under the hot water, she breathed in the scent of the shampoo, concentrating on nothing but the weight of the water as it hit her head and shoulders. She stood still for a while, oblivious of the world around her, until she heard a gentle knock on the door.
"Yes?" she called, whilst trying to rid her throat of the giant lump that had lodged itself in her windpipe.
"Honey, are you ok? You've been in the bathroom for over an hour." Charlie's anxious voice was muffled through the wood of the door. Renée did her best to keep her voice calm and not to stutter
"Don't worry, I'm fine. I just wanted to try out the shower, you'll never guess: this one actually works!" She hoped the humour would prevent Charlie from noticing her shaky voice. Laughter could be heard through the door
"Ok, I promise to get the shower fixed. Anyway, I'm gonna order room service, you want anything?"
She couldn't help but smile, he cared. That was true, maybe it could work. She could try this, she could survive marriage.
"No, nothing for me. I'm fine for now."
3 years later
Low voices echoed around the kitchen, Charlie and Renée's version of fighting. Quietly, secretly, as not to scare their daughter or letting the neighbours know they were having a rough patch.
"Look, we both know this doesn't work for us. Why can't you just admit it? You'll still see Bella, so you're not los-"
"See Bella?" Charlie interjected "Oh, yeah sure, once a year, a day or two at Christmas. Until she's old enough to decide she doesn't want to visit a random man she can barely called Dad! I'm the responsible parent, I'm the one who pays for her food, and the clothes she wears. I'm the one who can look after her because I have a decent salary."
"A decent salary. Well thank god for that, yes she'll grow up fine. Especially since you're never home. There's always some emergency, some half hearted reason why you can't come home until three in the morning. I will not subject Bella to that! I am not going to make here life harder that it has to be. Charlie, come on, you know it's for the best." Charlie just glared, making her shrink against the counter.
"No I don't." He snarled, before storming out the door.
Renée just stood there, fighting back tears, the fight echoing in her head. Upstairs, two year old Bella began to cry. Renée rushed to comfort her, soothing her with empty words, whilst trying to ignore the hollow feeling in her stomach.
Marriage, did not work at all.
Depressing again, I know, I'm sorry.