Hi There! It's been awhile, but life tends to eat you whole sometimes. Not sure how I feel about this, but I'm trying.
Walls
Maxine curled her body even tighter and squeezed her eyes shut. The blinds were drawn in an attempt to blot out the relentless, blazing Miami sun. She just wanted to sleep. Everything inside of her ached and throbbed. The mere thought of what happened made the grief stricken brunette struggle for breath. Maxine and Ryan had been recently been married and it terrified her to even think what this might do to them.
Ryan sat listlessly at the kitchen table, a mug of once hot coffee sat across from him and his own empty mug was pushed to the side. He had made her coffee, just the way she liked it, in hopes that she would emerge from their darkened bedroom and join him at the table. Ryan felt as if he hadn't seen Maxine in years. She shut herself up and refused to look at him. He wanted to at least acknowledge that it had happened. That was such a cruel way to phrase things, but he didn't know what to say otherwise. A mass of cells? An embryo? Their child? The latter made the color drain from his face and his chest tighten, but he made coffee anyway and poured it into her favorite mug, the one he had given Maxine with DNA strands delicately painted on the handle. Ryan then went and tapped on their door. A muffled voice that sounded a lot like the bedraggled, croaking version of the one he loved so much responded with a "I'll be right out" but no avail, Maxine did not appear and join him at the kitchen table. Ryan rubbed his face with his hand and realized that he needed to shave. Sleeping on the couch had been doing more damage than Visine and the strongest of coffees could fix, but Maxine wouldn't even look at him, so he figured sharing a bed with her was out of the question. He spent most of those sleepless nights trying to come with the perfect thing to say. (Ryan learned that he had the habit of saying the wrong thing and making everything worse and the thing was that he really, really wanted to see his wife again)
She remembered his expression when she said that in eight or so months, there would be a little Wolfe-Valera in a white bassinet next to their bed. He had looked utterly shocked and elated all at once.
XxXxx
"What? How?!" Ryan sputtered.
"Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much…" Maxine began, rolling her eyes jokingly.
"No! I know that. I mean, how? Aren't you on the pill, the shot or whatever?"
"You, of all people, Wolfe, considering you're so hung up on numbers and statistics, should know that the pill does have a failure rate," Maxine commented. "And even in your response you managed to sound like an ass. Good job!" She really hadn't believed it herself , but an afternoon of peeing on pregnancy tests with Eric dutifully making wise-cracks from the couch and Calleigh patiently watching the timer and intermittently swatting her boyfriend, had cemented Maxine's belief that she was indeed carrying Ryan Wolfe's child.
"I mean, Max, it's really great!" Ryan realized his mistake and wanted to extract his foot from his mouth as soon as possible. He was pleased that he and his wife were going to have a child, but the anxious, obsessive part of his brain was overwhelmed with the idea of pregnancy and the things that could go wrong. "It's just a lot to handle, I mean, it's not everyday I hear that I'm going to be a father, y'know?" The motley of anxiety and excitement was apparent in his voice.
Maxine decided to cut her very awkward and word fumbling husband some slack and reach over to pat his knee. "I should hope so and at least I didn't tell you while we were driving." Maxine had suggested they go to the beach after work that morning and so now they found themselves sitting on a bench at the edge of the sand, staring out at the water.
A comfortable silence hung between them and Ryan's hand sought hers. They sat, enjoying each other's company before Ryan broke the silence.
"I have a wife and a kid, how awesome is that?!"
Maxine didn't have to look over at him to know he was smiling.
XxXxx
That joy, however, didn't last very long. Less than two weeks later, Maxine awoke at an ungodly hour with searing stomach pains and found the sheets stained with the foreboding crimson of blood. A tense visit to the Emergency Room at Miami General confirmed the couple's worst fear: Maxine had miscarried.
The doctor had declared it a miscarriage due to unknown causes, but Maxine couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with venomous guilt, As she lay awake in bed, she went through the days leading up to that fateful night, trying to pinpoint exactly when her body decided the baby inside of her wasn't meant to be. Had she worked too hard? Not eaten the right foods? She wanted to know why the hell she wouldn't be able to hold the baby she'd spent so long dreaming about.
Ryan leaned back in his chair, still staring at the coffee across from him. He knew he loved her, there was no questioning that, but he didn't know how to reach her anymore and he was too exhausted to push and coax her out of her shell. He wanted the baby. He wanted it so bad, despite his hesitancy. But the baby was gone and his wife was slipping away. Ryan knew he could handle the loss of a child, but adamantly refused to lose the one he married too. With nervous hands, Ryan picked up the mug, carrying it toward the door that had become the wall betwixt them.
Maxine lay there, trying to visualize what the baby might've looked like. Would it have had Ryan's eyes and her Cupid's bow mouth? Maybe it would've been a quiet smiling baby or a gurgling, cooing child with drool and sticky fingers that would've pulled on hair, noses and ears. Thinking about what could've been hurt just as much as trying to not think about it. She turned on her side again, back toward the door, wishing she could forget when the bed suddenly dipped. Maxine knew Ryan would come eventually and part of her dreaded it. She felt like a failure. Kooky Valera messed up again; she killed a baby. She didn't want him to hate her.
"Max? I, uh, brought you some coffee." He gingerly set down the mug on the night stand and perched himself on the edge of the bed. "You said you were going to come out and talk, but you didn't and I thought maybe something was wrong…" realizing what he just said, Ryan winced. "Shit. Of course. I didn't mean…I just… I-"
"I know." Her voice was so quiet; he had to focus to hear it. Maxine knew that Ryan would come to her like this eventually, wanting to discuss what happened. She dreaded it, but a part of her was tired of being an island and glad he opened the door, rather than just knocking again.
"I- we both- I mean, I know that-" Ryan grasped for the right words again and again, trying to say anything remotely comforting. He looked at the comforter covered form that was his wife and wanted to hug her, but didn't.
"Ryan…" Her voice was weary and sounded twice as old as it should have. This broke his heart. Lively and bubbly Maxine was run down and exhausted.
"I'm not going to say the right thing; I never do, never have and never will. And that really fucking sucks. I should know what to say to make this better, Max, that's my job." He laid on the bed now, his head on the pillow next to hers. "It was an accident, Max."
Maxine rolled over and for the first time in nearly two weeks looked at Ryan. He looked worn out and grief stricken, like he hadn't slept in days. "I know."
Ryan felt like shit when he saw how tear swollen her eyes were. He should've manned up and done this days ago. He reached out to her, pulling her to him and wrapping her in a hug. "I just wanted to give you your space. I didn't want to make things worse."
"But you're here now." She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling less frozen.
"I'm always here for you, Maxine. Always."
