Wow, sorry for the long wait. I'm kinda fucked in the head right now.

Anyway, have fun.

The italics are set before last chapter's italics, but the normal is a continuation of last chapters normal.

Numb. Nothing at all. Completely numb. His jaw was smooth now, clean shaven after weeks of bristles. His hair had just been cut, cropped close to his head, the sides almost bare. All he needed now were new clothes to finish his reincarnation.

That was where he got stuck.

Walking aimlessly through numerous stores, unsure what would suit him, what was fashionable? What colour? He wasn't even completely sure of the size.

She had always been there to pick for him.

No.

He couldn't think like that.

He'd changed. He wasn't going to wallow anymore.

She wasn't there anymore. He had to keep going. He could cope without her. God, he'd managed it for 16 years before he moved the Newport. He could do it now.

But then he realised which department he had wandered into. Maternity and baby. He really wished he'd paid more attention to the signs.

"Are you done?" Ryan asked impatiently as his wife handed him another item of clothing.

"Patience is a virtue," She replied before turning away to look at the rack again.

"I've managed to be virtuous for the past 4 hours,"

"It's not like I'm enjoying it either,"

"Don't lie, you love shopping,"

"Not when I'm buying things with huge waists and elastic...it's depressing. I'm fat,"

"No, you're pregnant," He muttered, though she still heard. He sat down on the nearest chair.

"Doesn't make a difference,"

"There's at least 5 things in these bags that are for, I quote, 'When I'm normal again',"

"There's a new shirt for you somewhere, stop complaining," He obeyed, sitting perfectly still, watching as she walked in and out of the changing rooms, each time with a new outfit on. He'd smile mostly, nod occasionally and speak rarely. Beautiful was used more than any other word.

"Done," Marissa said confidently, an hour had passed since Ryan's moaning, and she now had 14 maternity outfits plus the other 20 odd that were at home. It was ridiculous, Ryan thought so, but it was how she had always been and probably how she would always be and he didn't want to change a single thing about her. "All we need to do his pay," Ryan let his eyes look in the same direction as Marissa's. The queue. That would be another hour. Ryan groaned. "I'll queue," She offered.

"No, you rest,"

"But..." He looked at her and just like that she knew the argument was lost cause before it had even started. He hadn't let her do anything that required more than minimum effort for the past 5 months. He took the numerous items and joined the back of the line, waiting patiently for it to be his turn to pay. It did take an hour, a long, hot boring hour. The air conditioning in the shop had broken and Ryan had insisted Marissa sit outside, ordered her to even.

He came outside and despite already having 5 bags on his arms he refused to let Marissa carry the 4 that sat at her feet. It was hard to see him through it all.

Marissa unlocked the car, as Ryan was obviously unable to. She opened the driver's door.

"No you don't," Ryan stood by her side after putting all the shopping in the trunk. "Other side."

"You're so unfair,"

"You're so pregnant,"

"Whose fault is that?" Ryan didn't answer, but instead walked round to the other side of the car and held the door open for his wife. "You're annoying sometimes, Mr Atwood," Ryan shrugged, closed the door once she was in and then got in and reversed out. "We should get a new car,"

"Why?"

"You can't drive a baby around in a Porsche,"

"Why not?"

"Wow, and I thought you were clever,"

"Ok, ok. What car do you want?"

"One of those," Marissa pointed to the car in front of them, Ryan raised his eyebrows.

"Are you having triplets without telling me?"

"Don't look at me like that," She barked. "What's wrong with that car?"

"Apart from the fact it probably has about 14 seats and was especially made for Cheaper by the Dozen,"

"It's a minivan, not a bus,"

"There's a difference?"

"Shut up!" She laughed, scolding her husband. "Well, what car would you approve of?"

"Mercedes C-Class saloon,"

"A what now?"

"A bit like Sandy's old one,"

"Oh," She thought for a moment. "I guess that would be good, but you'll have to show me a picture,"

"Can I help you, sir?" The voice stirred him away from his memories, it was kind, reassuring. He recognised it. When we turned around he found it difficult to not drift back into the memory he had been thinking of. It was the same lady. She had 'helped' them pick out outfits for Marissa, not that Marissa needed any help with fashion.

"I...erm..."

"Have you been here before?" He didn't answer. "I think I remember you...you're wife was the one who wouldn't let me do anything," She laughed at the memory, but his face convulsed in pain.

Sure, he didn't look broken anymore. He was all squeaky clean. But he was he kidding? He was still broken, he'd always be broken.

"Erm...yes...that would be her,"

"So, are you having another child?"

"Yes," He had no idea what possessed him to say it, or where the idea came from. He didn't even know what he wanted to do. Go shopping to relive memories?

"That's great!"

"My wife's away...with her Mom...I thought I could surprise her,"

"Lovely, now are we looking for baby or maternity?"

Real loss only occurs when you lose something that you love more than yourself