Please Don't Say It (But I Need to Hear You Say It)

They loved hard and fought harder, lost their footing and still managed to survive. They were always on a cliff; a cliff where one wrong move could send them spiraling towards destruction. But somehow, by some miracle of fate, they found each other again. The time apart never lasted and the days alone were worse than the most horrible days together. Now, with a house filled with three loud children and a love bound together for all eternity, times are crazy, but they are finally right. However, even with the past behind them, there are still memories to be forgotten…

Please Don't Say It

I. "I made a mistake."

"Mommy, look!" Lila called, bounding over to her weary mother, displaying a freshly drawn picture. "It's a rainbow."

"Nice." Bay smiled. Furrowing her brow, she continued, "I thought you were drawing a motorcycle?"

The two year-old frowned, slumping her shoulders a bit. "I was but I made a mistake." She kicked the baseboard, "I made a mistake."

Internally cringing at the words, Bay took a deep breath and move to get down to her daughter's level, her eight-month pregnant belly getting in the way. "Honey, it's alright," she whispered as she wiped the tears forming in her sensitive daughter's eyes. "What happened?"

"It's not the right color."

"Well that's not a mistake; that's an artistic choice." A sniffle. An eye rub.

"Artistic choice?" Lila asked, stumbling over the sign.

"Yes, you're an artist so you get to change things."

"So no mistakes? I'm making artistic choices?" With a nod and a hug, Bay breathed in relief. Her daughter was happy and so was she. Because mistakes were too hard and too painful to remember. But a little color in life? That's what she lived for.

II. "I need to."

James Everett Bledsoe. Spitting image of his father, red hair and blue eyes. Definitely his father's son.

"We are not naming him James Dean." Bay sighed as she crossed the name off the list (for the third time).

"How about James?" He smiled.

"Emmett."

"Not Dean. Just James."

"Just James?"

"Yes."

"Then I get to pick the middle name," she finally gave up the fight because she (not so) secretly loved the name too.

But James wasn't just his father. He was also his mother. And he ran when hurt, understandably so. And so it would be, one night, after receiving a few drum pointers from Emmett, James paused. "Things aren't going that well with me and Anna." He placed his drumsticks down. "And I just don't know anymore."

"What's been going on?" Emmett sat on the couch, motioning for James to join him. "I thought things had been good."

"They were, I guess. But we were never really together. I just needed to move on. Anna wanted to move on from her ex too. We knew from the start that's all this was." James looked up. "And I know that's bad but at least we were honest."

"I'll save that lecture for another time. But why do you need to move on?" Emmett's face was slightly contorted, his body thrumming with energy.

"Because Ava wanted out. She's not coming back. So I need to move on." His short sentences were filled with an anguish Emmett knew all too well.

"Well I can tell you this: You don't have to move on. Not just yet anyway. Don't force it; if it's meant to happen, it'll happen. People can find their way back."

"You and mom are different," James said, noting how his father was speaking of their marriage.

"Not so different actually. There was a time when your mother said the same thing…"

III. "Don't follow me."

"I'm not a baby anymore! Why do you treat me like one?" Emma shouted at her parents. "Lila and James can go out. Lila and James can have friends over. Lila and James can be home alone. Why not me?" The rage was quickly morphing into tears and Emma cursed her luck.

"We just want to protect you," Emmett said, trying to close the distance between himself and his youngest daughter only to be pushed away.

"But it's different for me. You guys never did this for the others."

"We've learned from them. Too much freedom, too little boundaries. They got into more trouble than they should've and we're trying to help you." Bay stood up from her place at the kitchen counter. "They're okay now but we don't want to make the same mistakes."

"I'm not your 'project!'" Clenching her fists, Emma moved to make her final statement. "Don't follow me." With that, she marched up the stairs to her room and slammed the door.

Placing a comforting arm on her husband's shoulder, she gave him a tight smile- the memories overwhelming them both. But as they sunk into the kisses offered, they knew that the here and now was all that mattered. That they found their way out.

Two hours later and still no sign of their daughter, Bay and Emmett made the trek to her bedroom. "Can we come in?" Emmett asked. A tearstained nod was all the answer they received.

"We're not punishing you. Or using you to figure things out." Emmett began.

"But you're our baby girl. You will always be our baby," Bay said after running her fingers through her daughter's hair.

"We want you safe."

"I know and I'm sorry." Emma cried, used to never making a fuss. "Sometimes it's frustrating though, that they can do more."

"We'll work on it," Emmett said resolutely.

"And your father won't go 'crazy-dad' on you." Bay added with a smile.

"Okay," Emma turned to both her parents, a new smile taking over her features. "So if I wanted to bring a boy home?"

"There's a boy?" Bay smirked.

"No boys yet."

"Dad!" Emma laughed, punching him lightly on the shoulder. And with that they knew all was forgiven.

IV. "Make it work."

"But mom," Lila mumbled, curled up on the couch in the fetal position, "We shouldn't have to make it work." She wiped at the stubborn tears staining her pale cheeks. "It should just," she paused, thinking, "work."

On the other end of the couch, Bay wrapped her arms around her body, trying to find her voice. Although it was nearly twenty years ago, she can't shake the miserable feeling of emptiness from that night on the beach. The night where she was convinced that he wasn't the person she fell in love with, that that imposter was trying to reenact her worst nightmare. The night she lost faith in their plans and his promise of forever.

"Don't you think?" Lila was sobbing now, furiously wiping at her eyes, mascara dripping down her face. Finally regaining her ability to move, Bay slid down the couch to hold her teenage daughter. She ran her hands through the silky strands of dark auburn hair and held her tightly before pulling back enough to sign.

"No, I don't." She took a deep breath as she felt tears blur her vision. "You always have to try." Lila shook her head, ready to dismiss the idea. However, Bay continued without pause, "It's never that easy."

"But it should be," Lila said tiredly. "I just want it to be easy."

"It wouldn't be worth it then." Bay stated, noting her daughter's confused expression. "If it's not work, you don't love them enough. Enough to keep moving forward even if it's more comfortable to stay where you are." She rubbed her thumbs over Lila's cheeks, smiling slightly. "Can't move forward if it's easy."

"Do you really believe that?" Lila asked.

"Yes, I really do."

"You and dad aren't easy."

"Kid, if we were you wouldn't be here."

(But I Need to Hear You Say It)

V. "I love you."

It doesn't matter the time or the language. If it is signed or spoken. Said through kisses and touches with no words at all. If it is said in rushed speech and wild hand gestures. Or slowly and oh so sweet. All that matters is that she is here and he is here, they are here together. Just holding on tight and enjoying the ride.

Their modest two-story home seems to be in a perpetual state of disorder- from noise ricocheting off the walls to toys littering the floor, burnt food in the kitchen and paint splattered on the dining room table. Others wonder how they survive in the chaos but Bay and Emmett laugh because, if one thing is certain, it's that whenever they tried to be perfect, they became hurt instead.

If anything, where there is imperfection, there is room for love. So when they look at the artwork gracing the walls and the music bouncing off the walls, they see happiness. When they look at the burnt food and the broken dishes, they see forgiveness. When they look at the messy beds and blankets set up for movie night, they see laughter. And in all of this, each and every little piece of their life together, they see love.

But hearing those words… The "I love you" murmured on damp skin after lovemaking or the brief "I love you" before leaving for work. The "I love you" from their kids and the "I love you" for making my life so much fuller than I ever imagined. Hearing those words are the greatest gift of all.

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