Love and Marriage

Chapter Forty-Nine

Martin figured that Sam would be home at any minute and worked hard to get everything ready for her. He hoped that this would show her that he wanted her to stay and that he was sorry for last night, or at least start to convince her of that. When he heard the door open and close, he knew that she was home. So he walked out into the entryway to greet her. "Hey."

"Hey." She greeted, placing her purse and keys on the table by the door.

"Did you get your errands done?" He asked, giving her a small smile.

"Yeah." She nodded, heading for the stairs.

"Where are you going?" He questioned.

She sighed. "Upstairs to take a bath and then I'll probably just go to bed."

"It's only six 'o' clock." He pointed out. "Even Claire doesn't go to bed this early."

"Well I didn't get much sleep last night so I'm tired." She hadn't meant for that to come out in such a harsh tone, but it did.

Her comment shut him up because he didn't want to make her angrier.

She didn't want to fight with him and she definitely didn't have the energy to fight. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it like that." She apologized.

"No, you don't have to be sorry." He assured her. "It's the truth and I'm to blame for your lack of sleep. I'm the one who's sorry." They stood there silently facing each other for a few moments before he spoke again. "I made dinner. Have you eaten yet?"

"No." She shook her head. The nausea that she felt earlier had come and gone all day, making it hard for her to even think about eating. Damn nerves. She was stressing herself out to the point of feeling sick—just another reason to take the job in Houston. "I haven't, but I'm not really hungry."

He wasn't going to be deterred by her supposed lack of appetite. "But I made your favorite."

"That's nice of you but I'm not hungry." She knew that he was trying to be nice and bridge the gap that had formed between them. He was making an effort, but it didn't matter right now. All she wanted to do right now was relax in a nice, warm bubble bath and then slip under the covers.

He was disappointed. He thought that if he made her favorite dinner they could at least sit down and talk about everything. They needed to talk about what has happened and he needed a chance to convince her to stay.

She grabbed onto the end post of the staircase, closing her eyes as a wave of dizziness hit her. Her knees felt weak and she felt them start to buckle. But before she hit the floor she felt arms wrap around her, pulling her up and holding her close.

He saw her start to faint and rushed to help her so that she didn't fall. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close to make sure that if she fainted again, she would still be protected. "Are you ok?" He asked worried about why she was fainting.

It took a moment for her dizziness to pass. She nodded. "I'm fine."

"What happened?" One minute she was talking to him and then the next she was falling to the floor. "Why'd you faint?"

"I haven't eaten all day." She explained. "It must just be catching up with me now."

"Are you sure?" He asked, wanting to make sure that nothing was seriously wrong with her.

"I'm sure." She assured him. He was holding her up against his body and their faces were only inches apart. If she just leaned in a few more inches they could kiss—but she couldn't and wouldn't do that. That would only complicate everything and everything was already complicated enough. Although being held in his arms was nice, she pushed her way out, leaning up against the wall.

"Well if you haven't eaten all day, then that's a great reason to come eat with me." He reasoned. "I'd hate for you to faint again and end up hitting your head on something. You need to eat."

She hated to admit that he was right. She did need to eat, and since her nausea was gone for the moment, this seemed like the perfect opportunity. "Fine." She sighed.

He simply smiled and led her into the dining room. There were candles lit on the table and there was soft music playing in the background.

She took one look at the scene in front of her and immediately wanted to leave the room. What was he doing? Why was he setting up this kind of romantic setting for them? While it was nice, she didn't think that it was appropriate considering everything that has happened. "What's all this for?"

"I just thought that sine Claire was spending the night at Sarah's, we could have a nice dinner together." He reasoned, pulling out a chair for her.

She hesitated before sitting in the chair he held out for her. He was trying; she couldn't get mad at him for that. Though she didn't appreciate the fact that he was trying to create such a romantic setting. He handed her a napkin and she took it, placing it in her lap and looked around the table. He had fixed his special garlic chicken for her, she guessed because it was her favorite meal for him to make. He was obviously trying to make up for last night. It was just too bad that it was too late. A nice meal wasn't going to erase everything that had happened between them. She hoped he realized that.

He started serving the food and they soon settled into conversations about everyday topics, ignoring the things that they needed to talk about. Halfway through the meal, he decided to broach the subject that he knew was on both of their minds. "You aren't really going to move to Houston, right? Please just tell me that you're not leaving."

She had wondered how long it was going to take him before he gave in and brought this up. She was actually slightly impressed that he had waited this long. "I hate to tell you this but I am leaving. I'm taking that job." She replied, seeing the pain on his face. She didn't want to see that look on his face and she didn't want to be responsible for causing that kind of reaction. But she couldn't change her mind now. She had to be strong. "I'm sorry, but it's the truth."

"Please don't go." He asked, making eye contact with her. "I don't want you to go. We can work this out, but not if we're in different states."

She put her napkin on the table, losing what little appetite she had. "If you didn't want me to go then you shouldn't have pushed me so hard these past few days. You were the one who suggested that I leave. You did everything you could think of to get me to leave. You even spent the night with Bethany! So tell me, why should I listen to what you want when it seems to change so quickly?" She asked, getting upset. "Do you even know what you want?"

"Yes I do." He replied. She was right. He was changing his mind a lot. But in all fairness he never actually wanted her to leave. Although he had told her that he wanted her to leave, he never meant it. Honestly, he suggested it at first only to see if she would do it. When it looked like she was actually considering it, he lobbied harder for her to leave because he thought that was what she wanted in order to be happy. Now though, he wasn't sure he could stand it if she left—especially under these circumstances. He needed to have some time to make up for his stupidity. To do that, they needed to be in the same state.

"I don't think you do." She argued. "One day you want me to leave and then the next you want me to stay. It's both frustrating and confusing."

"I bet." He nodded. "But I don't mean to be frustrating and confusing. I just want…"

"What? What do you want from me?" She asked, trying to keep from crying. She'd try and configure herself to be what he wanted if she only knew what that was.

"I want you." He told her. "I want our marriage to get back to the way it used to be when we had fun and laughed." He got up from the table and picked up a picture frame that was sitting on a nearby shelf. "I want to be these people again." He pointed to the picture.

She looked at the picture and smiled at the memory attached to the picture. It was an older picture of Martin and Sam, taken by a stranger while they were on their honeymoon.

They were sitting on a beach watching a sunset. She was sitting in between his legs and leaning up against him while he had his arms wrapped around her tightly. "This view is amazing." She marveled, looking out at the sunset. The sky was painted in a wide variety of dark purples and pinks, and with the ocean right there too, it looked like a postcard.

"Yeah, the view is amazing." Martin whispered into her ear before softly nibbling on her neck. "You're gorgeous."

She giggled and turned her head so that their lips met for a kiss. "I was talking about the sunset."

He looked up briefly at the sunset and then looked back at her. "I like my view better." He leaned in for another kiss.

"Can you believe that we're actually married?" She asked bringing her hand up to look at the wedding band that now adorned her ring finger.

"Nope. Still feels like a dream." He linked his hand with hers, intertwining their fingers. "Any regrets?"

"About marrying you?" She chuckled. "Never. I don't think I could ever tell you how much I love being your wife and knowing that I get to spend the rest of my life with you."

"I think you just did." He smiled, leaning in for another kiss. "I love you Mrs. Fitzgerald."

She only broke their kiss for a moment so that she could reply, "and I love you Mr. Fitzgerald."

Sam shook herself from her reverie and looked over at Martin, noting that he was probably thinking about the same memory she was thinking about. "I don't know if we'll ever be those people again." She wanted to be them again. She wanted to get that same slaphappy feeling that she used to get around him. She wanted to look at him and see nothing except the man that she loved. But right now, whenever she looked at him she saw pain and was reminded of all the problems they had.

She got up from the table. "Dinner was good. Thanks." Without looking back at him, she went upstairs to take that bubble bath.

He wasn't sure that they would ever be those people again either, but he wanted to try and get it back. He needed to try. They needed to try.