Some Things Are Better Left Unsaid
Rated PG-13 for language and some violence.
Disclaimer ~ I don't own 'em.
Summery ~ Evelyn is suffering from postpartum depression while an old flame from Rick's past returns to haunt the present.
Ch 3
Evelyn awoke with a stream of sunlight falling softly across her face. She blinked a few times, mindlessly watching the dust dance in the light as she recalled the events of the evening prior and why she had willingly slept in the rocking chair in Alex's room. She turned her stiff neck slowly, listening to the silent house for any sounds of movement. She stood slowly, placing the sleeping child back in the cradle, stretching her tired back. She wanted to be mad at Rick, but at the same time, she wasn't sure how to be, or even if she should be. After all, she didn't really find out *why* Rick had gone after that woman. But something deep down cried out, not wanting to know. What would she do if Rick decided that he would rather be with his beautiful old flame than with his lump of a wife? She closed her eyes tightly, fighting back the burning tears. What would she do if Rick left her to raise this child alone? She took a deep breath, shoving all doubt and fear down as she pulled open the bedroom door.
She took careful steps down the hall, making sure to avoid the one board that squeaked, stopping as she noticed the sunlight from her bedroom flooding the hall. The door was open, the bed empty. She took a deep breath, sinking down against the doorframe. This wasn't like her. Why was she beating herself up like this?! And yet, something inside her poked and prodded, asking over and over again why she hadn't seen this coming months ago, when she had been the size of a sarcophagus. She lowered her head to her knees as she drew her legs into her, falling uncomfortably asleep with tears in her eyes.
****
Alex crawled around on the floor of the kitchen, hammering several wooden blocks into the tiled floor before putting them into his mouth. Evelyn sat in a chair at the table, half watching her son, half reading, neither of which she was doing very productively. Her mind kept wandering, the sounds of her son trying to get her attention falling on deaf ears. Her thoughts meandered back to Rick; where he had been all day, what he was doing, who he was with...well, she figured she knew that last part. Nonetheless, there were so many questions with answers that were not readily available.
She was so deep within her thoughts, she failed to hear the front door slam. Alex, on the other hand, knew exactly who was home, as he began to bounce in his diaper, speaking a language only he could readily understand.
Rick slipped into the kitchen, three bags of groceries in his arms. He kissed Evelyn atop her head, setting the bags on the table. Evelyn about leapt out of her skin as the bags slammed down, the father launching his son into the air with a joyful squeal.
"Where've you been?" Evelyn finally managed to say, glancing to the neglected book. Rick stopped spinning long enough to glance to Evelyn with a raised eyebrow.
"The grocers?" he suggested as though it were plainly obvious.
"All day?"
"Obviously not. I don't shop like you." He smiled at her, the grin shortly fading into confusion. "Is this about last night?"
"Of course it's about last night!" Evelyn said, slamming the book closed. Rick set Alex back on the floor, his playful mood diminished by his wife.
"Look, I'm sorry I lied."
"Richard, this is not just about you lying." That hit home. She never called him Richard. Rick froze, speechless – not a word would come to his lips. At his silence, Evelyn stormed out of the kitchen, grabbed her coat from the front closet and slammed the front door so hard, every window in the house rattled. Rick finally broke through the confusion, running for the front door.
"Evy?" he shouted as he threw open the door. The street was empty save for the single car that rolled noisily down the street. "Evelyn!" he bellowed, but it was quickly drowned by the sounds of a screaming child alone in the kitchen.