Woo. Arent you guys freaking awesome? Now tell me, can you do it again? I think so.
NO LURKING! There is a reason they give you that review button!
I enjoy writing this story, its so much fun to play with.
XxXxX
They call this war a cloud over the land. But they made the weather and then they stand in the rain and say 'Shit, it's raining!'
-Cold Mountain.
XxXxX
She didn't know how he was going to react in the first place, a part of her hoped that maybe he might be okay with it – but that part of her knew it was just a dream.
She was left alone, in her kitchen, her body reeling from shock. She trembled in ways she didn't even think possible. It started from her stomach, the cold aching realization as it hit her.
He was gone.
He left her.
It was her fault.
From there it riveted icily up to her chest, and her throat, gasping as she tried to swallow the lump that now resided there.
Her hands shook so hard she wouldn't be able to get a glass of water without sloshing it from the rim of the glass. Finally, the ultimate breakdown happened and her body trembles so hard her teeth rattled and her vision shook before her.
She was scared and now she didn't know what to do.
XxXxX
He strolled along the nearly empty beach the wind catching his hair, tossing it this way and that.. But it didn't matter if the wind blew, it didn't matter if the sand stung his skin.
Nothing mattered.
His life, shattered.
His dream, cut into ribbons.
His love, broken.
His heart, sliced in half.
It was devastated, shattered, broken into more pieces then he would ever be able to pick up. Maybe he deserved this for the whole Rebecca debacle, maybe.
But no one deserved to be cheated on. Not like this. No one deserved to find out that the only real reason she even told him was because she didn't know who the father was.
And if Carter was anything like Sandy had known him, he would want to be a part of this child's life.
IF. He was. If. A fifty-fifty chance.
He was cold, on the inside and out, it had started to rain and the few people that were walking hand in hand on the beach scrambled for their cars. The only people out this late at night were either the kind that had problems, or the kind that was in love.
He didn't care about the rain.
It could have been pouring hail storms, and it wouldn't have mattered to him. It could have been a hurricane, and he could sit here nonetheless.
Can he forgive her? Could he ever forgive her? Forgiveness is such a silly word. Do you ever really forgive someone? The grudge is always there, festering slowly, would it ever go away. The next argument they had, would he bring it up and smack her in the face with those words? Would she ever look at him the same? Could he even look at her the same? He knew he had always looked at her with the utmost love in his eyes, because that's how he felt.
In love.
Now? Now he just felt hurt, wounded, like a soldier.
The child? Whose was it? If it was Carter's would he even be a part of its life? Would he and Kirsten remain married? Could he work through this? Was it his? Even if it wasn't his, did he want to be part of its life?
How would this even work.
He knew how Ryan felt at that very moment when Theresa had said she was pregnant and didn't know who the father was.
How much fear courses through his young seventeen years.
Was it even worth it anymore?
He had to ask himself that question.
Was it?
XxXxX
She drags herself into bed, trembling and shaking, her body shuddering against its own will. Her mind is an endless amount of questions.
Whoever said morning sickness was just in the morning was a liar.
Although it almost certainly had something to do with the events of tonight, along with her nerves, and her hormones combined.
Whichever it was it was doing a number on her…
She couldn't get warm, she couldn't stop trembling and she couldn't stop straining to hear the door creak open, listening as he might enter the room.
Her tears stain his pillow and the life she used to have, the safety that she always felt in this house, the security she always felt in his arms, and the love they created – she had always imagined it would over come everything and anything.
Now she wasn't so sure.
XxXxX
Rain poured down in buckets.
A torrential downpour so the weatherman called it. "An unexplained storm has popped up into the area."
That was an understatement.
A torrential night.
A torrential new life.
No matter how he looked at it, nothing could ever be the same.
He sighed as his body shivered and trembled uncontrollably in the torrential rain.
As he walked slowly back to his house, he debated upon whether he would even go in. Maybe he should just get a room at the hotel or something.
Where would he sleep so that it wouldn't make it so obvious to the boys that something was seriously wrong?
Yet.
They'd find out eventually just like he did.
He opens the door and the air conditioned house hits him, chilling his body like ice.
He doesn't care that he is tracking in wet sand.
He doesn't care that he's dripping water in the house.
He doesn't care.
Not right now.
He sighs as he realizes that he has to go into his bedroom to get a change of clothes because without he will definitely get sick with pneumonia or worse.
He's literally silent as he enters the room, walking quietly to his closet and grabbing the clothes he needs silently off the hangers.
The bedroom is empty.
There is no one there.
XxXxX
"I'm sorry to come over like this," she whispers as he ushers her in the door.
"No…It's not a problem… how are you? Both of you?" He's so concerned about her that it makes her heart skip a beat with happiness. She is almost positive that Carter wants this baby to be his.
She smiles lightly at him before her chin trembles. She clears her throat before continuing.
"Sandy knows…"
Carter looks at her with surprise. "And I'm guessing the whole reason you're here is because he didn't take the news very well."
She sniffs, "Not at all."
He nods knowingly. He wouldn't take it well if Kirsten had cheated on him with someone.
He gives her a shy smile and opens up his arms in which she willingly goes forth into and cries into his shoulder, listening as he mumbles apology after apology of "I'm sorry."
She knows.
She's sorry too. She mumbles it time and time again into his shoulder.
"Everything is just a mess! I can't lose him Carter… I simply can't," her soft plea into his shoulder made him bit his lip in confusion.
"I know," even though he doesn't. He doesn't know. He doesn't understand. He has no idea what its like to be so in love.
He knows about heartbreak.
He knows how the heart simply shatters.
He knows how hard it is to pick up the pieces.
What did he expect? For her to drop Sandy like a hat and come running into his arms? For Sandy to be like, "Oh, okay sweetie, no big deal."
No.
Sandy Cohen wasn't like that. He trusted people.
It was his first mistake.
His second? Was the fact that Sandy had decided his dealings with Rebecca hadn't done numbers on his wife.
His third? He trusted her.
Completely.
Utterly.
Absolutely.
It was kind of like vodka. When you drink vodka you expect one thing: To get drunk, hammered even, mind watering, selflessly indulgingly drunk. No one thinks about the hangover tomorrow morning.
That's what Kirsten did. She got drunk on him.
And then she regretted it. But this kind of hangover wasn't the kind you could drink away with water and Tylenol.
Sandy was never suspicious of her, only him. He was worried that Carter might make the moves on his wife and if it happened she would resist.
But she didn't. She didn't resist. She didn't fight.
She encouraged.
And she had broken that twenty-year trust.
Faster then you could snap your fingers.
She pulled away from him, looking at him with such sweet sorrow he had to look away. "I'm sorry, I have to go."
"Call me, Kirsten, if you need anything, even a shoulder to cry on." He kisses her forehead.
She smiles lightly and nods her head before leaving, brushing away the stubborn strand of blond hair that had fluttered across her beautiful features.
XxXxX
It was dark in her large house and she assumed that Sandy wasn't back yet.
She walked wearily to her bedroom closing the door softly before turning on the light.
"Where have you been?" His voice boomed over the silence of the house, startling her.
"I went out," she whispered softly, taking the in the sight of him, sitting calmly at the table, his hands folded in front of him, his piercing blue eyes boring into her soul.
His dark hair was disheveled, his eyes were red and he looked downright haggard.
"Out hmm? Out to see Carter perhaps? Out to go find someone better then me, perhaps?"
She looked down at the ground. "I just went out, Sandy." She feels bad enough, she doesn't need him to grind her into the floorboards over her guilt.
She goes to her closet to change her clothes and when she reemerges he is there, standing, looking at her dangerously.
At one point she would have taken that simply being Sandy, about him wanting to be near her, giving her the shy smile as he would watch her slowly undress before playfully dragging her to bed with him.
He had been drinking, that much was obvious. Maybe not a lot but enough that he suddenly made her nervous.
She went to pass him and he grabbed her wrist as she moved.
Instantly she flinched and recoiled.
He raised an eyebrow and moved his hand from her wrist to graze her fingertips.
"What was that?"
She bowed her head, "Nothing."
Anger flashed through his sea-blue eyes, "Kirsten, do you think I would hurt you?" His voice was low and deep as it echoes through her head. 'Kirsten, I love you.' It's the same deep, loving voice that said those words, not so long ago.
"…I don't know…"
It had come to this.
He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair as he looked at the fear that was upon her face. He searched her for an answer that would justify the meaning of her wincing at his touch. Had it truly come to this, did his wife think that he would just haul off and smack her around now?
"Have I ever hurt you?" His voice held sadness.
"No," she whispered as she looked at the floor, ashamed.
"But you think I would? Jesus…" he drops her hand like wildfire.
"Sandy…I didn't mean it," she whimpers him.
"Of course not Kirsten. Actions speak louder then words," his voice raises slightly as she startles again.
"Sandy please, don't…"
Go.
Please.
Don't.
Go.
He can see it in her eyes.
He bits his lip and almost turns to go before he sighs and runs his hands through his hair. He looks at her with the patience of a child.
Should he go? It's more then obvious that she is afraid of him. She fears her own husband. He smirks at the thought before sighing instead and looks at her before looking at their lonely bed.
Wordlessly he goes over to the bed and pulls back the covers, and waits as she follows his lead, walking past him at a snails pace, cautiously.
He waited patiently as she crawled into bed as he pulled the covers up to her chin.
Leaning over he kisses her forehead softly before squeezing her hand and watches as she closes her eyes against his gentle touch.
"Despite everything, I still love you, I still need you, and I won't lose you. I just need some time…"
He placed his hand on her stomach, softly and she opens her eyes and sighed gently, watching him.
"I don't want you to worry, okay?"
Despite whomever the father is.
She nodded and wiped away a stray tear. He doesn't have to say those words; they resonate in both of their minds.
He turned the light off and slowly walked out the room, shutting the door so softly she had to strain to hear it.
XxXxX
When Seth grumbled softly to himself he instantly knew something was wrong.
His father was on the couch.
So that meant a fight.
Or something?
What was up with the two of them lately anyway?
He goes into the kitchen to get cereal as he eats from the box.
His Dad stumbles in slowly, going to the freshly brewed pot, savoring the smell of it.
"Hey Pops, did the old lady kick you to the curb last night?" He jokes.
"Your mother and I are taking a break for a while."
He chokes on his cereal.
"A break? What is that? Like a break? Like a Kit-Kat? I don't understand a break? Like a lunchtime thing, a five-minute copout? A hey I'm canceling dinner you can be mad at me?"
"Better get ready for school, son," he left an open mouthed Seth in the kitchen.
No reason to beat around the bush, he and Ryan would find out eventually whether it was from the high tension in the house or the rumors.
Seth stared at his fathers back.
A break?
That can't be good.
XxXxX