Lapse Part II

"Yes, a few weeks of not knowing what was going on with her but she's right as rain now." She smiled, a blanket of silence falling over them with the exception of the kettle starting to heat and boil on the other side of the room. She quickly glanced down and grabbed her keys as he started to feel the prickly heat brewing under his hat in the warmth of the house, snatching his beanie off he gave his smooth head a rub. "Right, well I'll get out of your hair then-" Finally looking back up at him she was stunned for a second. "Or lack of, should I say." Her eyes widened at the horrific new look. "I see why the hat was necessary now, as awful as it is perhaps you should keep it on."

"Ah, yes." He tried to force a laugh but he could feel his stomach knotting and his chest tightening with the words rising up his throat quickly, he didn't want to say it but he feared he'd lose it and his emotions would get the best of him otherwise. A nasty case of word vomit overcoming him and incredibly quickly at that. "Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you about this-"

"You lost a bet and agreed to shave your head?" She smiled, an innocent joke intended to ease the tension between them but it did nothing to cushion the blow she was about to receive.

"I've got cancer."

Her mind was positively blank. Their exchange following the bombshell dropping was pathetic. A mere silence that she struggled to fill with anything but you're not serious to which he solemnly informed her his health was no joke. Non-hodgkin lymphoma. He calmly explained he was getting all the help he needed and that she shouldn't worry about Grace in his care. Nevertheless, she was shaken to the core with such damaging news.

"Perhaps tonight wasn't a good night for this?" He sighed purposely loud, a passive aggressive way of depicting his frustration. She'd been stood at the kitchen sink, staring out of the window as dinner simmered slowly in the pans to her left. She fell back to reality upon feeling his hands leave her hips, his lips detaching from the side of her neck where he'd been delicately kissing and nibbling at her skin sensually as he stood behind her. But to no avail. She simply wasn't present to his touch this evening as she pensively nursed a glass of red wine.

"It's been a long day-"

"Every day is a long day with you, Connie." His voice raised a decibel, making his way around the kitchen table as he quickly tried to rein in his temper. "It's been two months, we've finally got the house to ourself, dinner is almost ready and you've barely said two words to me since I walked through the door." His words had warped into more of a soft plea now, his brow raising when she turned to glance at him apologetically. She did feel slightly awful. He'd gone to so much trouble with dinner.

"Michael, we were married for fifteen years you should know how long my days are by now." Offering him a small smile, she remained where she was but instead leant her back against the kitchen sink, taking a hefty sip of her wine.

"And I'm foolish to have thought that would've changed with newfound motherhood, wasn't I?" Asking pointlessly, he drooped his head with a small laugh and moved back towards her petite frame. She was still dressed to the nines, albeit without her signature Louboutins. She'd more or less kicked them off as soon as she crossed the threshold of her home. His hands planted themselves back on her hips, looming over her whilst he took in her exuberance. "But she's all tucked up in bed, safe and sound at her father's house so we can enjoy some time together." Moving in, he stole a reluctant kiss from her. Pulling back only a fraction before initiating another one. He did this three or four times until finally she was forced to set her glass down without looking, deepening the kiss quickly she reached out blindly to her left in order to knock the gas ring off.

There was no way dinner was waiting for this. She needed a welcome distraction, not a night of smalltalk and fine-dining.

"Come on, Gracie." He cooed frantically. She'd been more or less screaming for the last two hours and he was at a loss. It was nearly 10 o'clock at night and he'd tried everything, he'd even tried to feed her twice but she was refusing the bottle. Connie had packed rusks that she could suck on and eat but that had failed too. He continued to bounce her gently, attempting to calm the distraught eight month old. She was still fairly small for her age, but this was a given due to the fact she'd been seven weeks premature at birth. There was a nagging voice in his head telling him he needed to call Connie but it was his first night having their child and she'd, quite reluctantly, agreed to let him have her over-night at the last minute. Unbeknownst to him it was to offer her a night of sexual passion with her ex-husband who had just sauntered back into her life only three months ago. Another part of him, potentially his heart, was aching for him not to call her. She'd doubt his parenting abilities and he didn't want to risk losing this time with his baby daughter. "I don't know what's up with you?" Soothing as best he could, his chest felt tight with the awful sight of his wailing child. She was red in the face and hot to touch with all the crying she was doing. Utterly inconsolable. For her sake he was going to have to do it. Swallowing his pride, he pulled his phone out and called.

Across town, she found herself still deep in her thoughts. Mostly about him and the disturbing news he'd given her only hours ago. Her room was cool and silent, the curtains still open and offering some form of light across the crumpled bed sheets they lay in. She'd pleasured Michael, half-heartedly, but he was totally oblivious to her pre-occupied mind and lacklustre performance. Turning to look at his sleeping figure, she let her eyes roam over his bare back whilst he snoozed carelessly. The sheets draped over his lower half as she clutched her side of them to her chest to try and sit up silently. Her efforts were pointless, as her phone started ringing loudly on the floor. Their clothing was littered from here to the kitchen as they'd undressed on their way up. Leaving her phone to ultimately spend the majority of the night on her bedroom carpet. Quickly dashing to answer it, she felt her heart drop seeing his name on the screen. It was so late, why was he calling?

"The hell is that noise?" Michael rolled over sedately, his voice deep with slumber as he squinted his eyes at her in the darkened room. "Oh no, please don't tell me you've been called in? Just ignore it and come back to bed." He patted the mattress, waiting for her to return to the warmth.

"No, no it's Sam." She breathed worriedly, still holding the sheet around herself protectively. "It might be Grace." Before he could argue back, she'd accepted the call and pressed the phone to her ear, immediately hearing Grace screaming wildly in the background. Michael could hear nothing but Connie's words. "Alright, no, it's fine. I'm on my way."

"You're not leaving are you?" He sat up, an air of disappointment surrounding his question. Whilst on the phone she'd spoken quickly yet calmly before promptly hanging up. Glancing at him briefly, she dropped the sheet and threw it back on to the bed.

"I have to, Michael, she's my daughter." All the while he proceeded to watch her start grabbing bits of clothing from here, there and everywhere, putting together a very questionable outfit consisting of her black cropped trousers, a black satin shirt and no bra. It was late and she planned on throwing her coat on anyway. "Look, I'll be back soon, possibly with Grace if you could just-"

"Lock the door on my way out, yeah, yeah I know the drill." His cold response didn't glide over with her very well. She refused to let him stay or be over at the house when Grace was with her. And that's how it'd remain, unless it was going to be a serious relationship, which she wasn't even sure if their reunion was at this point. It was too early to tell. "Is that how it's always going to be? The baby cries and I get turfed out of the house? You know, she'll have to get to know me at some stage-"

"You're acting like an absolute child, Michael. And as for meeting her, that happens if and when I decide so, nothing you say or do will influence that decision." She perched herself on the edge of the bed, slipping her shoes on one by one. "So if you can't accept that, then I'd advise you to stop wasting your time here and find yourself another quick screw-"

"Woah, hey, hey." He sat up even further, holding his hand out in surrender, a tone of hurt in his voice. "Is that what you think this is? Just a bit of sex whenever I'm feeling like it?"

"Honestly, Michael, I don't know what this is or what I even want it to be." Her voice was cold. "I need to go, please just make sure you're gone by the time I get back." She was avoiding his gaze in the darkness before standing to leave. She didn't even look back.

Sam hadn't said much on the phone but her baby's heart-wrenching mewls in the background had been enough to make her come over. Truth be told, she'd been searching for a reason to go back. Their stilted conversation had felt so unnatural and her reaction to his news was minimal. It was still sinking in, slowly and painfully. A large part of her felt it was affecting her so deeply because he was Grace's father but a smaller part of her was saying it was another reason. She wasn't quite ready to address that yet though. Regardless of her messy feelings, a problem with Grace was not the reason she wanted to end up returning for. She could feel her heart racing, her maternal panic kicking in as soon as she'd neared his driveway. In fact, the concern took such priority she hadn't even assessed her appearance upon leaving the house. Very untypical of Connie. Outside, the air seemed even colder than earlier this evening as the hour climbed closer to eleven o'clock. She knocked on his door, waiting for his response. He didn't leave her waiting long, the sound of Grace shrieking in his arms grew closer and closer.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't know what to do." He spoke immediately upon opening the door and allowing her in, she looked concerned to say the least. His words almost inaudible over the daughter's sqaulling. "She just won't settle, I've tried everything." Words had escaped her as she merely held her hands up to take the heartbroken baby from him. He felt like an utter failure but right now he didn't care about his own feelings, he just wanted his daughter to be comforted. His heart twisted as soon as her warm little body left his grip, now in the familiar embrace of her mother's hold. She shushed her gently, clutching her close to her chest as she continued to scream, her little head resting below Connie's shoulder whilst her mother's hand cupped the back of her head protectively. She moved her lips to the crown of her child's head and still her cries persisted. Her soft yellow all-in-one pyjamas contrasting loudly with Connie's dark clothing.

"Have you got a bottle made up?" She asked softly against Grace's warm skin, not wishing to further harass the youngster.

"Yeah, I tried her twice and had no luck." He started to head towards the kitchen, motioning for her to follow. "This one is still warm, I tried again about five minutes before you got here but she refused." Despite the loud distraction between them, she couldn't help but feel bad for him too. He looked positively defeated. His complexion pale with fatigue and self-disappointment as he handed her the warm bottle. The anxious father could do nothing but watch on as she attempted to calm the infant as well. He stepped in to help seeing her start to pull a kitchen chair out to sit down. The instant she was seated, she placed the bottle on the kitchen table and immediately shrugged out of her coat, one arm at a time as she moved carefully with Grace still laying upright against her. Once the coat dropped from her shoulders she let it drape over the back of the chair behind her as she immediately moved Grace to lay in a cradled position in her arms. Holding her close to her chest prior to grabbing the bottle again whilst Sam continued watching, hoping this would help aid her unsettled state. So far, her screams were still active but perhaps not as urgent as they had been earlier. Despite her reddened cheeks stained with tears, her eyes were heavy which became even more apparent when Connie positioned the bottled towards her but kept it flush to her breast, bringing Grace up to the bottle as opposed to moving her hand down to Grace. Sam straightway recognised what she was doing. Her loud and unsettled sobs diminished a fraction as she started to feed. She still let out the odd few cries every few seconds until finally there was quiet, her eyes more or less rolling back in her head with utter exhaustion.

"Shhh, see, you're fine." Connie whispered softly, rocking her ever so slightly whilst trying to keep the bottle nestled tightly between her chest and Grace's mouth. Her tiny little hand was grasping on to the breast pocket of her black shirt, her fingers almost playing with the material whilst she was fed. Connie's cooing continued to soothe, to the point where she was now completely still and silent as she enjoyed the bottle.

"I obviously don't have the magic touch." Sam finally spoke, he was attempting to make light of the situation but she could hear the wounded nature behind his comment.

"You did fine, she's just going through a fussy stage, that's all." She didn't look his way, instead focusing on her darling daughter's porcelain skin and dark wisps of short, fine baby hair. Sam didn't respond as he moved around the other side of the kitchen by the door to watch over them.

"I jumped straight into the deep end, didn't?" His shaking question finally made her lock eyes with him, a glint of sadness reflected back.

"Look, it's been almost nine weeks since you've seen her, her routine has changed, she's changed." There was a small pause in her words. "It'll just take time-"

"Time." He repeated with an ill-humoured smirk. "That's something I'm not promised, unfortunately." His brow twitched at his own grave words before he cleared his throat in the uncomfortable silence. "I'll go and get her things."

He was getting her things for quite some time. In fact, long enough for Grace to get through nine ounces of milk before she was out for the count, forcing Connie to find her way to their child's room. It was warm and sweet inside, soft pinks and whites with everything a young baby could ever need within the four cosy walls. Lowering the sleeping infant down into her cot gently, she pulled the railing back up and switched her monitor on before heading back downstairs to locate the brooding figure. And that's exactly what he was. Sat slumped in the living room, his bald heading reflecting the low lighting of the lamp in the corner of the room. She entered cautiously, hovering in the doorway whilst she wondered exactly what it is she should say. But that wonderment ended when he suddenly spoke.

"I'm sorry I had to call you, I obviously interrupted something." He cleared his throat before looking at her knowingly, his eyes taking in her slightly bedded appearance. She shifted under his gaze, pulling her satin shirt more closed around her chest upon feeling slightly exposed sans bra. "But she was so worked up, I thought there might have been something wrong."

"No, no it's fine. You didn't interrupt anything." She reassured, strangely. He wasn't used to this sort of behaviour from her, the forgiving tone and pitying looks. Although it was fully intended to be nice, he wasn't enjoying the feel.

"I, um, I didn't know that you'd breastfed her?" His brow pulled together gently in the middle as he spoke accusatively, turning away from her again. He looked like his thoughts were just stewing away in his head angrily.

"I'm sorry?" The genuine confusion she was experiencing laced each of her words.

"I saw what you did in there, you were simulating breastfeeding. You're weening her, why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, you never asked." She started, utterly bewildered and slightly irked by his strange line of questioning. "Why is it so important? I've been mix-feeding her since she was born and you've never voiced your interest before now-"

"Yeah, because I was always under the impression she was formula fed, I just assumed you'd fill me in on these details!"

"And exactly what difference does it make to you?!" Raising her voice too now, she couldn't actually believe this was their topic of argument right now. Her fury spilling over so much that she didn't even give him breathing time to answer her stark question. "I'm sorry, are we seriously discussing something as trivial as this after the cancer bombshell you just dropped on me?!" Scoffing in disbelief she couldn't contain her perplexed look as she stepped further into the room, the argument brewing heatedly.

"Oh come off it!" He stood too now, the playing field levelled out somewhat. "That is completely different! Grace is my daughter too, I should know these things! My having cancer has nothing to do with you-"

"Yes it does! It has everything to do with me when you're the father of my child!" Her yell wasn't bellowed with anger, it was emotionally charged and raw. Far more humbling than an irate and targeted snipe. He was silenced immediately as she tried to gather herself, licking her upper lip whilst she pulled her temper all the way back in. Another trick she'd learned through parenthood so far. "Believe it or not, I didn't come over here to argue with you, Sam." She panted, her body still pumping with some sort of adrenaline rush. Fighting with him often did that to her, it'd start her heart racing and her blood boiling in a mere matter of seconds.

"I'm sorry." Sighing regretfully, he smoothed his palm across the back of his neck tiredly. "I know you didn't, and I'm sorry I told you the way I did earlier. I should have used a little more tact." In a split second he'd back-peddled drastically before lowering himself back down on to the sofa. To his surprise, she followed suit and perched herself in the armchair in the corner of the room. "I've agonised for months over how I was going to tell you and this was not how I planned for it to come out."

"Why didn't you call me?" Leaning forward with genuine interest, she let her eyes stay fixed on his dishevelled appearance. He was really struggling through this battle.

"I wanted to, a few times." He smiled momentarily. "But every time I picked up the phone I lost my nerve, I had to tell you in person. Face to face." He stopped himself quickly, a wave of emotion threatening to crash over him. "I just want to spend as much time with Grace as possible, I want to know every little detail about her before-"

"Don't." She breathed sadly before swallowing hard to force herself into gaining some composure. "You can't talk like that."

"I have to, I don't know what the future holds and I definitely don't want to waste any more time." He finally looked up and their eyes connected. Never did he think he'd see the day Connie Beauchamp was almost shedding a tear over him. She looked glassy eyed but remained well-composed. He expected nothing less of her. But what came next was even more unexpected.

"I'm going to scrap the visitation arrangements, your access to Grace will be more or less limitless. You can see her whenever you'd like. Providing it doesn't interfere with her routine, of course." Rolling her lips together, she studied his emotional reaction, his head nodding slowly as he tried his best to keep from smiling so hard through what looked to be tears.

"Thank you." The delicate whisper he murmured was heartfelt and Connie didn't do squishy moments with men like this.

"Right, well, I'd best go." Standing slowly she brushed her shoulder-length hair behind her ear, her eyes flickering over him worriedly. "She didn't quite get through a whole bottle but she'll probably sleep through 'til the morning. She's worn out."

"Wait, you're still happy for her to stay?" Getting to his feet as well, he went from staring up at her to staring down on her small, elegant frame. The sheer reluctance was extremely obvious on her face but this was as much for him as it was for her. She loved Grace more than life itself but aside from when she worked she was with the youngster constantly. It was time to start lengthening the cord.

"Yes." Her slow nod indicated to him that she was still deciding as she answered and hearing herself say yes frightened her a little bit. Regardless, she started nodding more surely. "Yes, she'll be fine. I know she will."

"Thanks, I'll try to refrain from disturbing your evening again. I at least hope I interrupted after you'd had-"

"Okay, let's not go there, shall we?" She smirked, quickly cutting him off before he could finish his wildly inappropriate sentence. A slither of embarrassment was evident in her expression, causing him to smile with a raised brow as they reached the front door. "Goodnight Mr. Strachan."

As soon as the door closed behind her, she felt her heart tightening. Her mind reeling with worry.

There was really a chance he might not make it through this and the thought alone was hitting her much harder than she'd anticipated.