7.

~ Arthur felt his whole life was crumbling around him as he entered the apartment he had once shared with Becky. He had moved out, but had left some things in the master bedroom.

He had hoped to find Becky gone for the day, but she was home; cleaning for once.

"What are you doing here?" she barked at him.

"Just getting a few things." Arthur said numbly.

"I got the divorce papers today. Way to be a man, not even telling your wife. Just lest some delivery guy serve her papers." she huffed as she was packing dishes into boxes.

"I did tell you, Becky." Arthur sighed.

"You told me." Becky laughed.

"Becky, things haven't been right with us in a long time." Arthur said.

"So that's why you're going to divorce me? After everything we've been through together? You're in some kind of depression, and you want to throw me away? Throw our child away?" she said as she sealed up the box.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Packing."

"You're moving out?" he asked.

"I can't afford to live here on my own and with a baby to raise." she told him.

Arthur shook his head. He recognized one of Becky's guilt trips coming on.

"And just for the record, I wasn't purging. I was having morning sickness every day for the past week." she informed him curtly as she started packing another box.

"Becky, I don't want this baby." Arthur said.

"You did. A few months ago, you wanted a baby. What's changed?" she cried.

"Everything!" Arthur shouted.

Becky glared at him.

"So, because I couldn't conceive right away, you're leaving me? I don't suppose there's already someone else." she said.

"Don't start. It's the shopping, it's the drinking." he listed.

"I never had a drinking problem until we couldn't get pregnant and you started to push me away. I took up shopping because you stopped loving me. When we make love, you don't even look at me!" She suddenly shouted.

Arthur looked at his wife now. Looked at her thin body and her worried face. He had been so consumed with Becky's faults, the fact that she was no longer the girl he used to know, he had failed to see her anymore. Failed to see the girl with a crooked smile who used to throw her shoes at him when they were children.

"Becky, let's face it. We don't love each other anymore." Arthur sighed.

"I do. I still love you." she sobbed quietly. "Who knows why with how you treat me sometimes."

She sniffed and ran a hand through her hair.

"I'll never be good enough for you will I?" she said with a shaky voice. "I'll never be the society wife you need. I'll never be anything more than this obligation to you. I'll sign what ever you want me to sign. I just want full custody of the baby. It will be the one good thing we had together."

"Becky." Arthur said sadly.

"I won't get an abortion. I know you wish you could sign off your legal rights, and so do I, but I won't kill my child. It's all I've wanted for years now. Even if you don't want me anymore." she said and started packing more boxes.

~ Arthur looked over the closet he shared with Becky and found his other suits and a few personal items he had forgotten. Becky was deep in the throws of packing everything. Their whole lives were being shut away in boxes, packed in haste, taped shut and would be forgotten about. Quite possibly they would never to see the light of day again.

He tried to shake off the feeling that he had wronged Becky. He didn't love her anymore, not like he used to. He didn't burn for her with the inextinguishable passion he had for... his mind went to Ariadne. He had never bedded her, but somehow, he felt they had been intimate.

Somehow, his body always ached for Ariadne. For a life with her in... why was his mind racing to Paris? Would they have lived in Paris? Lived in Paris with two boys, a baby and a girl... a girl with curly blond hair.

He felt his mind shift and his vision blur. What was happening? Something wasn't right. A closet, a large closet just like this one, but Becky's clothing wasn't here. Tasteful clothing was hung neatly on the racks and a large cabinet that held jewelry. Ariadne, Ariadne was in this closet, wearing one of his dress shirt. A teasing 'come and get me' look on her face as he knew shad had nothing on underneath.

He shook his head and tried to regain control of his thoughts as he went to the living room.

"I can't find my socks." he told his wife as she was packing cutlery.

"Check the dryer." she said helpfully.

Arthur didn't move. He didn't want to check the dryer. Didn't want to leave his wife.

"Becky, I'm sorry." he said softly.

"I'm sorry to." she said bitterly.

"No, I'm sorry." he clarified. "For everything. For giving up on us, for abandoning you when you needed me. For trying to make you get an abortion, I'm sorry."

She turned and looked at him.

"I don't want you to move. I'll move back and we can try to make this work." he told her. "We'll go to marriage counseling, and if it doesn't help, then we can deal with this like adults. We owe it to each other to try and make it work."

"I don't want you back." she told him. "I needed you and you treated me like I was a burden."

She went back to her packing.

"Becky, stop packing." Arthur ordered. His tone strong as his hands stopped her from wrapping bubble wrap around a picture frame of their wedding day.

"Don't touch me, Arthur!" she shouted and threw the frame to the floor, tears brimming her eyes.

"Becky, I'm sorry. I don't want a divorce. We can work this out, I promise." he pleaded as she stared to weep.

"It's the hormones." she cried as he tired to shush her. "I'm still mad at you!"

"I'm sorry."

"I don't care if you leave us!" she cried into his shoulder.

"I'm not leaving." he assured her, and meant it.