December 16, 2021

They hadn't talked much about their fight. And anytime he tried to bring it up, she ignored him or changed the subject. But they were in the car now on their way to dinner. The boys were in the backseat, with headphones on and so he leaned over. "Are you ever going to talk about it?"

"About what?" Miranda asked, turning up the radio.

Ben turned it off. "Miranda."

"Benjamin." At the restaurant, as the boys hurried to make the reservation, she started to open the door and he locked them before she could get out. "Are you serious right now?" She tilted her head to the side, shooting him daggers.

"Are you serious?" He shot back. His wife crossed her arms before putting a hand to her mouth. She looked right in his eyes. "I don't know if I want to do this anymore."

His heart dropped. What was "this"? Trying to gain custody of Pru? Fight? Their marriage? His stomach swirled. He could get over a lot of stuff, but losing Miranda was not one of them. "What?"

"I don't know if I want to do it anymore."

"What exactly are you talking about, babe? I'm… I'm in the dark here." He laughed nervously.

"The burden of fighting for a child that legally we have no right to is stressful as hell! I'm anxious all of the time," she said exasperatedly. "When Condola calls, I'm jumpy hoping for good news that I feel will never come." Ben released the longest breath he'd ever held. This was about Pru. They would be fine—eventually. "At least with Dani, she was never here. But Pru was. We had her and we lost her and… and… and my heart beats out of my chest thinking about that little girl every single night. I feel like this is my fault."

He rubbed her shoulder. "How? You—"

"Well, if you'd felt comfortable talking to me about this, then maybe we would have had the conversation and we wouldn't be feeling like this."

Ben shook his head, unbuckling his seatbelt as she did the same. "No, baby, I should have told you and…" He blew air from his mouth across his face. "And this is all on me. She's not here because of me."

Joey came back to say that the reservation was ready and Ben told him they'd be in soon. That soon turned into ten minutes. "And I know she's fine. I can imagine that she's probably perfectly fine with Ifeya and Bill, but if she's supposed to be here with us, this is where I want her. So I can know she's fine."

Ben nodded. "I get that. I'm the same way."

"Really, hon?"

"Yes, of course, but I… I didn't want to put anything else on you."

"I'm your wife. You're supposed to put it on me." Miranda winked and they fell out laughing. "And you know what, babe?" He raised one brow as a response. "I love your passion. It's why I married you. You think first and iron out the details afterward and… and as much as it infuriates me, it always ends up perfectly."

Ben smiled. He'd playfully chastised Dean about that same thing, only to be given the same critique. "And you are amazing. I love how careful you are about everything, making informed decisions with your little charts and lists."

She hooked his chin with her finger, smoothing is beard. "Then I still end up going with my gut," she confessed.

Tilting his head, he smirked. "But you have the facts on your side, too."

"True."

"But, Miranda, you cannot keep throwing this in my face, okay? We're doing this together, s-so… no more blame. Either way."

She nodded, her nails designing patterns on his hair. "I promise."

They sat in the car, letting the conversation penetrate their skin. "Are we gonna be okay?" He asked, needing the truth.

"Hey. When I said, 'I do,' I meant 'I do'." He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. "Are we gonna be okay?" She whispered. As tough as his wife was, there was a vulnerableness that drew him in every time.

He hugged her tightly. "Always."