Authors Note- Sorry, it has been a LONG time, since I've written anything for this fic. But I just wanted to say, to who ever may still be reading, that I am not done with it. Far from finished actually. I have another two fics on the go too, both with AbbyLockhart2... and I have homework on top of that, and school... hockey season is almost over, so I will have a little more time. Anyways, thanks to the people who have reviewed, it means a lot to me.
Chapter Three
"Parents are suppose to stay home with their sick children..." I roll my eyes, leaning down to tuck the covers closer around him. He grabs my hand and plants a kiss on it. "I love you mommy." He grins, typical Tayte, sucking up.
"I can't stay home Tayte. Mrs. Johnson, will be here." I explain, sitting down at the end of the bed. He rolls his eye, once again. A habit, I wish I didn't pass down to him. I run my fingers along his arm, in a comforting manner.
"But mom, she smells." I laugh lightly, well, yeah. But there is nothing I can do about that, and Donnie and I have to go to work, so he's shit out of luck. I reach forward, planting a soft kiss upon his forehead.
"I love you." I say, as I leave his room. Closing the door tightly behind me. Mrs. Johnson smiles and us, then sits down on the couch with her sewing, or knitting, whatever the hell she is doing today. I just hope her smell is not embedded in my couch. Donnie, takes my hand, leading me out of the apartment. We wave one last time, then he laughs wrapping his arm around my waist.
"It'll be fine." He assures me.
"Oh, I'm not worried about Tayte. I'm worried what he might do to her. You know him, he's, well, he's you." He laughs, a deep throaty laugh, while taking his arm back, to replace it with his hand in my hand. I smile a bit, moments like these are ones that reassure me, that even through the bad times, we'll persevere through. Our love is just that strong. I rest my head on his shoulder, as he leads me to the L.
"So..." He breaks the silence, I look up at his, now serious, eyes. The playfulness is gone, the happiness, they once held has been replaced by a serious stare. One that he does not wear often, but when he does, I know how he is feeling, and I know that things will be strained until the 'said problem' is fixed. "Are you going to tell him."
"Way to break the mood, Donnie." I sarcastically spit, taking my hand back.
"Abby-" He says in a sing song warning tone. I know, I know its the right thing to do. I tried to do it six years ago, but couldn't. I couldn't find him. He left. He left without a trace. I searched for him, called the Mansion, called his fathers house, his mothers house. Everywhere. I once got a hold of his girlfriend, at the time, and she yelled at me. Calling me heartless, and a bitch, many variations of those two words, nothing I hadn't heard before. I tried to do it then, I had the courage to do it then. Now I am just not sure I want to dig up the past, a painful past. One I hadn't touched for a while.
"I will, okay, I will today... Or tomorrow." I sigh, he shakes his head at me. I know what he is thinking now, and he confirms it with his words.
"He has a right to know." Ah, those words, those fateful words. Yeah, when he left me, so I lead him on, believing I did something I ended backing out of. Maybe I didn't deserve him, and I still probably don't. I don't deserve him or his forgiveness, I don't deserve Donnie either, but I got him. So maybe John will give me something I need right now, something I needed seven years ago, forgiveness.
"I am meeting him for coffee today," I tell him. Although I have thought of about a billion excuses to get me out of it. The thought of sitting there with him, rehashing the past, will do one of two things. Make me cry and make him hate me, or make me fall madly in love with him all over again. For Donnie's sake, for my own sake, for Tayte's sake, I hope its the former. Tears and hate, have always been an easier thing to handle. When my heart gets involved, its deadly.
The diner is crowded, buzzing with noise, people swarm the counter to retrieve their coffees. I see him, he catches my eye. I smile at him, he doesn't return the gesture, instead he sends a cold stare my way. I push my way over to his booth, our eyes meeting once again. He takes a sip of his coffee, and I do my best to read what he is thinking, its a challenge. Just like it was when he left. I guess I never really had a knack for reading him. Although I use to, like to believe I did, I didn't. I could never tell exactly what he was thinking or feeling, despite my best efforts. "Hey." I try to break the silence, that will at least be easier then the tension. Which I'm sure, I could cut with a butcher knife. He nods his head at me, proceeding to take another, more like a gulp this time, of his coffee. The tension is definitely palpable. "John-" I try again, but he shakes me off.
"Listen, Abby. Just say whatever you want to say, I don't think I can take much more of this." I look at him puzzled. This what does he mean, exactly?
"What are you talking about?" I stare him in the eye, not letting him break my gaze, it will only give him a chance to cover up what he is really thinking, that wouldn't be a good thing. Not for us, we have spent to much of our time together hiding from one another, and seven years later here we sit. Distance separated us for so long. Maybe if we had been honest from the beginning, this conversation would be totally different.
"You can have someone else's child, but not mine?" He practically spits it at me, the anger and hurt now shining through. I look deep into his eyes, they once held so much concern, and worry for others, now they are hollow and empty. He is not the man he use to be. Something has changed him, I have a feeling I contributed to that change. I reach out to hold his pale hand, but he moves it to his lap.
"That's why I wanted to talk to you." He looks at me, the hollowness is still there, but now, I see a flicker of hope. Something, that obviously, hasn't been there for a while.
Chapter Three
"Parents are suppose to stay home with their sick children..." I roll my eyes, leaning down to tuck the covers closer around him. He grabs my hand and plants a kiss on it. "I love you mommy." He grins, typical Tayte, sucking up.
"I can't stay home Tayte. Mrs. Johnson, will be here." I explain, sitting down at the end of the bed. He rolls his eye, once again. A habit, I wish I didn't pass down to him. I run my fingers along his arm, in a comforting manner.
"But mom, she smells." I laugh lightly, well, yeah. But there is nothing I can do about that, and Donnie and I have to go to work, so he's shit out of luck. I reach forward, planting a soft kiss upon his forehead.
"I love you." I say, as I leave his room. Closing the door tightly behind me. Mrs. Johnson smiles and us, then sits down on the couch with her sewing, or knitting, whatever the hell she is doing today. I just hope her smell is not embedded in my couch. Donnie, takes my hand, leading me out of the apartment. We wave one last time, then he laughs wrapping his arm around my waist.
"It'll be fine." He assures me.
"Oh, I'm not worried about Tayte. I'm worried what he might do to her. You know him, he's, well, he's you." He laughs, a deep throaty laugh, while taking his arm back, to replace it with his hand in my hand. I smile a bit, moments like these are ones that reassure me, that even through the bad times, we'll persevere through. Our love is just that strong. I rest my head on his shoulder, as he leads me to the L.
"So..." He breaks the silence, I look up at his, now serious, eyes. The playfulness is gone, the happiness, they once held has been replaced by a serious stare. One that he does not wear often, but when he does, I know how he is feeling, and I know that things will be strained until the 'said problem' is fixed. "Are you going to tell him."
"Way to break the mood, Donnie." I sarcastically spit, taking my hand back.
"Abby-" He says in a sing song warning tone. I know, I know its the right thing to do. I tried to do it six years ago, but couldn't. I couldn't find him. He left. He left without a trace. I searched for him, called the Mansion, called his fathers house, his mothers house. Everywhere. I once got a hold of his girlfriend, at the time, and she yelled at me. Calling me heartless, and a bitch, many variations of those two words, nothing I hadn't heard before. I tried to do it then, I had the courage to do it then. Now I am just not sure I want to dig up the past, a painful past. One I hadn't touched for a while.
"I will, okay, I will today... Or tomorrow." I sigh, he shakes his head at me. I know what he is thinking now, and he confirms it with his words.
"He has a right to know." Ah, those words, those fateful words. Yeah, when he left me, so I lead him on, believing I did something I ended backing out of. Maybe I didn't deserve him, and I still probably don't. I don't deserve him or his forgiveness, I don't deserve Donnie either, but I got him. So maybe John will give me something I need right now, something I needed seven years ago, forgiveness.
"I am meeting him for coffee today," I tell him. Although I have thought of about a billion excuses to get me out of it. The thought of sitting there with him, rehashing the past, will do one of two things. Make me cry and make him hate me, or make me fall madly in love with him all over again. For Donnie's sake, for my own sake, for Tayte's sake, I hope its the former. Tears and hate, have always been an easier thing to handle. When my heart gets involved, its deadly.
The diner is crowded, buzzing with noise, people swarm the counter to retrieve their coffees. I see him, he catches my eye. I smile at him, he doesn't return the gesture, instead he sends a cold stare my way. I push my way over to his booth, our eyes meeting once again. He takes a sip of his coffee, and I do my best to read what he is thinking, its a challenge. Just like it was when he left. I guess I never really had a knack for reading him. Although I use to, like to believe I did, I didn't. I could never tell exactly what he was thinking or feeling, despite my best efforts. "Hey." I try to break the silence, that will at least be easier then the tension. Which I'm sure, I could cut with a butcher knife. He nods his head at me, proceeding to take another, more like a gulp this time, of his coffee. The tension is definitely palpable. "John-" I try again, but he shakes me off.
"Listen, Abby. Just say whatever you want to say, I don't think I can take much more of this." I look at him puzzled. This what does he mean, exactly?
"What are you talking about?" I stare him in the eye, not letting him break my gaze, it will only give him a chance to cover up what he is really thinking, that wouldn't be a good thing. Not for us, we have spent to much of our time together hiding from one another, and seven years later here we sit. Distance separated us for so long. Maybe if we had been honest from the beginning, this conversation would be totally different.
"You can have someone else's child, but not mine?" He practically spits it at me, the anger and hurt now shining through. I look deep into his eyes, they once held so much concern, and worry for others, now they are hollow and empty. He is not the man he use to be. Something has changed him, I have a feeling I contributed to that change. I reach out to hold his pale hand, but he moves it to his lap.
"That's why I wanted to talk to you." He looks at me, the hollowness is still there, but now, I see a flicker of hope. Something, that obviously, hasn't been there for a while.