Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I just borrowed the names. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without written authorization. ©2010 SwedenSara. All rights reserved worldwide.
Thank you JillM12 and imcarriej, my betas on this chapter. Jill, you are so helpful and encouraging! Please stick with me!
Reminiscence and Rising Fear
x.x.x
EPOV
We are having dinner in silence; Bella is still angry and I am still upset with myself. I shouldn't have said those things. I knew it the moment the words came out of my mouth, and to be honest, I didn't really mean the things I said either. Bella took care of everything at home and implying that she didn't look after the kids properly was quite cruel.
I cannot believe how stupid I am sometimes, and I don't know why I do these things since I clearly see how it affects her. I never thought I would be the person to be mean to her on purpose, but still I am. What really pisses me off is that I don't even apologize to her. I know I should, and I want to, but the words get stuck in my throat and it is so frustrating. None of the things I want to tell her seem to come out, and instead I say horrible things, yell at the kids, and lash out at random stuff like the computer not being fast enough or my wallet being in the wrong place. Nothing about that is even remotely Bella's fault, or the kids', and yet I take it out on them. My temper has gotten worse and I don't particularly like myself this way.
At least I got a reaction out of her.
I frown at the thought. I would not be surprised if that is the reason I do these things all the time. I want her to notice me again. It's not the kind of attention I would prefer, but it snaps her out of that bubble she seems to walk around in nowadays.
Sometimes she just sits on the couch, staring into the air with absent eyes. Those warm, brown eyes used to dance and sparkle, displaying her every emotion giving her no chance of hiding anything. I could tell what she was feeling just by looking into them, and now it's as if she's not even in there.
I don't recognize the girl I married. She was the most alive, warm and vivacious girl I had ever met. There was something about her that was almost fervent, and I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. I could watch her forever; her vivid gestures when she spoke, her smiles, the way she bit her lower lip when she was nervous, and how she twirled her brown hair with her fingers when she was in deep thought.
Now she keeps her hands folded when she speaks, and she is collected in a sort of strained way. She bites her lip constantly, she seems distant, and she answers in monosyllables when I speak to her. I don't recognize her, but to be fair I don't recognize myself either. I do and say things I never thought I would.
She never used to be so preoccupied. Something is clearly bothering her and I wish she would tell me what it is, but I realize I haven't exactly shown any interest in her feelings lately. I spend little time at home, and when I do I sit in front of the computer or watch TV.
x.x.x
I finish my meal and clear the table, putting the plates in the dish washer. She made dinner; at least I can take care of this part. She has already left the table, and is now giving Benji the "every night tooth brush fight," as Kate calls it. Benji is a lovely kid, but getting his teeth brushed is his least favourite thing to do and I'm not proud of myself for leaving that to Bella most of the time.
Actually I leave almost everything to Bella, which is absolutely not fair to her. When we moved in together we discussed this several times. She is quite the feminist and made it clear that she expected me to take equal responsibility for our home and future kids. Of course I agreed, because this was – and still is – my opinion as well. I see now that I don't live up to the promise I made back then.
What if she doesn't want me anymore? What if that's why she's so distant all the time?
I close my eyes as the thought hits me like a wrecking ball. I steady myself against the sink and my hands are trembling. I wouldn't be surprised if that is the case, it's not like I've been the greatest husband lately. She is her own woman, perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and she certainly doesn't need a man to survive. She has survived without my help for quite some time now to be honest. All those things she said after my stupid muttering earlier, she was right about everything. Everything.
She is leaving me. She is the love of my life and I screwed up. She is leaving me. Fuck.
I hear her rummaging about in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. I know she won't tell me good night or ask me to come to bed. My mind races as I'm meticulously overhauling our marriage the past year. All the signs are there, mocking me. Of course she is leaving, how could I not see that earlier? It all makes sense: the way she recoils from my touch, how she never says "I love you," and the fact that she gets almost paralysed when I try to hug her in bed.
She probably thinks I haven't noticed, but I know she cries almost every night. I hear her quiet sobs when I pass our room, and when I enter she holds her breath pretending to sleep. That doesn't fool me, but I have never once asked her why she is sad. I pretend not to hear her and go to sleep beside her every night. I think maybe I'm afraid of what she might answer if I do ask, and her constant rejection keeps me from giving her the comfort she probably needs.
Last but not least, the most obvious sign of them all: the total lack of sex. She used to be the queen of sex, the utter opposite to my last girlfriend. Tanya was all about lights out, in the bed, under the blanket, missionary style. Bella took what she wanted, when she wanted, how she wanted. She didn't care if it was dark or broad daylight, if we were on the bed, the kitchen table, against the wall, in the shower or even outdoors. She was under me, on top of me, her back to me; whatever she wanted she also did. She expressed her sexuality in a way I never could – and still can't – and I admired that.
I still want her. She is the most beautiful, sexy creature I have ever seen. I have dreams and needs I've never told her about, things I secretly hope would eventually happen. I want to experience these things with her, do certain things to her and show her my inner desires, but I never had the guts to tell her.
Those dreams will continue to be just dreams, because she is leaving me. I'm certain of it now.
Fuck.