CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

It was late by the time we got back from our little adventure. We took the three boys to the dock on the creek, and I had to console myself from the memories of Daryl's sweet and thoughtfulness. He was still sweet and thoughtful, I reminded myself. It was just going to take a lot to get back to that.

The sun was just setting when we reached the back porch, the children sweaty and tired. Morgan had already picked up Marcus.

We came in to Tray eating soup, smiling.

"Hey," I said breathlessly, sitting down on the counter. "Pregnant people shouldn't be allowed to walk," I sighed jokingly. Tray laughed and offered his greens. I shook my head no.

"Where's everyone at?" Morgan asked, one kid on her hip, the other two leaning on her.

"Raul just went upstairs. Kids look tired, Morgo. Sleepy?" he leaned down to ask Robert, who smiled and nodded.

"They are. I'm gonna give them their baths then put 'em to sleep. Night guys," she smiled, waving to all of us as she disappeared through the swinging kitchen doors.

"How're you?" Tray asked, it sounded odd and rehearsed. Well, he had walked in on Daryl and I arguing.

"I'm ok," I forced a smile and he gave me a smile back.

"I know you're not."

My smile slipped from my face.

"Well," I slid off the counter and stood, wobbling a bit. "You're right. But I will be, Tray. Soon," I tried to smile again but it was too forced and I let it leave.

Tray sighed and stood up.

"I'll be in my room if you need me," he passed me, squeezing my shoulder as he went.

I stood in the kitchen for a little while longer, knowing Daryl was in our room doing something, maybe waiting on me. Wondering how I found out he lied, or maybe wondering what the hell I was talking about. Either way.

I made myself leave the kitchen, go through the dining room, and up the large staircase. I stood outside my door forever, hearing footsteps on the other side.

I reached my hand out to grab the door, shaking very slightly. But shaking nonetheless.

I opened the door and stepped through. He wasn't in there. But I heard something in the bathroom, then the bathroom door opened and he came out, a toothbrush stuck in his mouth and no shirt on. His body was slick with sweat from working all day.

"Hey," he said through a mouthful of old tooth paste. I tried not to cringe.

"Hey."

"Sorry, I forgot to brush my teeth this morning."

It came out more of:

"Saway, I fowgaht tuh bwush muh teef thus mawning."

I smiled slightly and nodded. He disappeared through the door again, I heard him spit, gargle, then spit again. He came back in and I let my eyes wander his chest before I looked back up at him, leaning against the door.

"So," he said, sounding like Daryl, "how was your day?"

"Are you really not going to bring up what I said today?" I asked, raising my eyes brows. His eyes did that lost, trying-to-find-the-words-to-say thing they sometimes do.

"I was gonna let you," he said simply. I sighed loudly, trying to find anger but finding nothing but the hopelessness.

"Why'd you lie?" I asked quietly, staring at my feet. He didn't answer and I've never felt more like the first time we had sex and I couldn't get him to talk to me for days after.

"I don't know."

I nodded, my hand on the door handle.

"Well, when you decide to actually answer me, you can find me on the couch," I snapped, opening the door. I was just about to walk through when he grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"Don't."

I snorted, still searching for anger. I needed something to fuel me. Why couldn't I be angry at him?

"Why didn't you just leave with her, Daryl? Why did you bring her here? I would have gotten over you eventually. Morgan and Michonne and Tray and Raul, they could've helped me raise this baby," I gestured towards my stomach. "I didn't need this added on hurt, so why'd you do it?"

He looked like he had been slapped and he stammered on his words, before just shutting up to think.

"Kyra, I love you. I don't love her. I was worried about you, I let my guard down. Yes, I did some things that I shouldn't have, but I did. I'm sorry," he said the words slowly, like they hurt him to say. I hoped they did, because they killed me.

"Sorry?" I shook my head, wiping my eyes, "I really thought that would make me feel better about all of this, but it just doesn't," I sniffed. Why couldn't I get mad? I want to get pissed and fired up. I want to throw things and scream. But I couldn't find me it in me. I just felt broken.

"Please don't be mad-"

"I can't be mad. What I feel is so much more hurtful, Daryl. I'm just broken. I can't get mad. I don't think I have it in me. I want to, but I can't. I can't," I sniffed again, my lip trembling.

"Kyra, you're the only person I've ever let in. You can't kick me out," his hand reached for mine, but I jerked it away.

"I'm not kicking you out. You left on your own accord," I said quietly.

"I've never opened up to anyone like I have you, that's got to mean something to you, doesn't it?" he nearly begged.

"That's why we're in this place, Daryl!" I cried out, my first time raising my voice. But it didn't sound triumph, my voice broke when I said his name, and it trembled the entire way through. "It's because you opened up to her! Why didn't you tell me you've never been out of Georgia? Why didn't you say you had no clue we were in North Carolina? Why didn't you tell me Bonnet was your first dog? That you've never been on vacation? Why was it so hard for you to tell me things about your dad, yet so easy to tell Beth that your mom died in a fire. I never knew that!" I was nearly sobbing now.

"Kyra," he sounded desperate, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It was a mistake! People make mistakes! I swear I'll never leave your side again, Kyra. If you tell me to stay, next time I will. I won't let us get separated again, I swear. Please, just let me make it up to you!"

"How the hell do you make up something like this, Daryl?" I said weakly. Why did I want to hug him so bad? Why did I want to bury my face in his chest and just cry? Why couldn't I be mad at him?

"I'll think of something, I swear. Just promise you won't leave me."

I laughed then, it was bitter and only lasted a few seconds.

"Where would I run to?" I retorted. "Where the hell would I go, Daryl? Even if I took off this damned ring and made you sleep on the couch, I would always be near you," I shook my head, once again wiping my eyes.

"Do you love me?" his voice was low, and it sincerely caught me off guard.

"I could never stop loving you, Daryl," I sighed, leaning my head against the door.

"Then you'll help me work this out," he said matter-of-factly.

"I don't know," I whispered, "I don't know if I can."

We stared at each other for awhile then. I was torn between wanting to love him and wanting to hate him, and I was going to go deep in one direction or the other. There would be no medium.

"I'll let you think," he said roughly, grabbing a shirt before walking past me, out the door.

I closed the door quietly behind me, sinking to the floor. I put my head in my hands and cried, hating myself.

This was all my freaking fault.

/

Sorry it didn't upload properly the first time. Don't know what happened...