Thanks for all the kind replies guys, they were well appreciated! This is part two, and again it's rated for language so be warned! Enjoy and if you do, don't forget to tell me! If you don't, tell me what you disliked and how you think it can be improved (but nicely today, I get my AS results tomorrow, I'm slightly fragile)

Two Beds and a Coffee Machine

Part 2

Monica stared down at her cell phone. The numbers seemed to be calling to her. Telling her she had to do it, she had to call him. Even after the fight, she couldn't change the fact that he was her children's dad, or her husband. Her true love. She reached for the phone, but before she could press anything it burst into song. Suppressing a scream she answered it.

"Hello?"

"Monica, where the fuck are you?"

"Ethan, I can't really talk now I'm – " she tried, hoping to pacify him in some way,

"I don't care Monica, you can just take my fucking kids and not tell me. Now get yourself back here or I'm phoning the cops. OK?"

Monica didn't even bother answering. There was no point. She had two choices. She could either go on the run, drag her babies from place to place. Cheap motel to cheap motel. Or she could go home and hope it was a one off.

"Mommy?"

Monica looked down to where Henry, Annabelle and Charlotte were meant to be sleeping. She had only got the cash for a twin room. Meaning Henry and Anna had to share, while Lottie slept on a makeshift crib in the corner. Anna was now awake and rubbing her eyes. Monica walked over to her and swept her up, holding her tight in an attempt to stop the tears,

"Morning sweetheart!" she answered in what she hoped was a cheerful tone of voice, "What do you want?"

"Mommy, when are we going home?"

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As Monica glanced out at the night sky ahead of her she wondered why she had even bothered paying the $35.99 for the room. She knew, she probably knew even when she was packing, that she'd never leave him. Despite all her efforts not to become a housewife, a baby machine. That's exactly what she was. Her day revolved around her children, taking them places and making sure they were fed and watered. The most extravagant meal she had cooked in the last 5 years was a birthday cake for Henry's first birthday. She had no value, no money and nowhere to go. She'd always have to go back home. No matter what, she'd always end up back there.

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"Monica!"

Monica felt the air escape her body as another person through themselves at her. She tensed as she felt Ethan's body engulf hers. Even then she couldn't understand why he was doing it. Why he was acting as though he had missed her, as though she had fled a leaking roof rather than a violent husband. She felt him move away from her and opened her eyes, not even aware that she had closed them. She saw him turn to their children, her children, and embrace each one in turn. Telling them there were presents in the kitchen. Eventually he addressed her again,

"God, I've missed you so much Monica" he moved to hug her again, and she pulled away, "What?" he asked, shrugging in her direction.

"Nothing" she heard herself saying, "It's just I, I don't understand why you're doing this"

He smiled then, and Monica felt sick. After slapping her, he was standing there smiling. As though she were a child not yet in touch with the ways of the world.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. Things just got to me. It won't happen again. I promise. I love you."

As she looked over his shoulder, looked anywhere but at him, she noticed the children in the kitchen. They had wrestled the wrapping paper off of their presents and were now making as much noise as possible in playing with them. They were smiling, laughing, something they hadn't done during the entire motel trip. They were happy here, Monica told herself, they deserved a mommy and a daddy.

"I love you too" she whispered, still not looking at him. As he smiled at her again, visibly relaxed, and hugged her tight, Monica still wasn't sure if she'd done the right thing.