Maybe It's Better This Way

---

OK well it's Thursday now but I count this as Wednesday night lol! I had to go to work but now I'm back here it is. The length of this and the next were determined by natural breaks but the rest will be longer! There will be 3 more updates before I leave but 27 might be a little delayed as I figure out uni and internet access there. Don't worry. It will definitely appear first week of Oct. Promise

---

Chapter 23: The Weekend

The boys were left with a strict set of rules; 'no parties, ragers, drugs, alcohol or sex', and the threat of being sent to the Cooper-Nichol household if anything went amiss, while the two Cohens set off for Berkeley. The journey north was quiet and uneventful. A bleary-eyed drive to the airport during which Sandy had to keep reminding himself that his wife wasn't a morning person; that was the reason for her pale face and lack of enthusiasm, followed by a short flight. Arriving late morning, they spent a few hours wandering around remembering old haunts and discovering forgotten ones. One of these was the diner they stopped in for lunch, a place much frequented in their college days.

'Maybe this wasn't such a good idea,' Sandy commented as Kirsten slid into the booth looking tired and tearful, 'you look exhausted.'

'It's not that,' she mumbled, reaching for the menu and finding her husband's hands in the middle of the table instead. 'Care to share?' he asked, clasping her hands. She shook her head, 'Let's just eat.' Sandy didn't push it but watched her through the meal and noticed her face when a woman with a pram was seated at the table just along from theirs or a heavily pregnant woman rushed in to buy coffee, grumbling that it had to be decaf. They'd almost finished lunch when a tiny little girl tottered over to their booth and stood looking at Kirsten. A moment later her mother hurried over, apologising and taking the child's hand to lead her back to their own table. The girl twisted round to look back at Kirsten and waved solemnly. Kirsten's eyes filled with tears and Sandy moved round to sit by his wife, hugging her against him. 'Everywhere I look I see children, babies, pregnant women,' she mumbled, 'I can't get away from them.'

Sandy knew what she meant; he'd noticed it too. That morning the world seemed full of prams, pushchairs and protruding bellies. It was only his mind playing tricks but if he felt like that, it would be a hundred times worse for Kirsten.

'How about we go back to the hotel, maybe…take a nap?' Sandy offered, eyeing his wife's pale face worriedly.

'I'm fine,' she replied crossly, the memory of other 'naps' springing to mind and making her miss those days, that feeling, that happiness.

'I was just offering sweetheart,' Sandy said, working to keep the bite from his voice as he was snapped at once again. Kirsten dropped her head immediately apologetic.

'I'm sorry, it's just…I'm not sick and I'm not a child.'

'I know but I don't know any other way to deal. I like to look after you.'

'You're too good to me.'

'You deserve it, now, I'm pretty bushwhacked so how about that snooze?'

'Bushwhacked?' As he'd intended, Kirsten smiled at that.

'Okay.'

---

When he woke an hour or so later Kirsten was still snuggled beside him, one arm around a pillow, hair splayed across her weary face. She still wasn't sleeping; plagued by nightmares which were no less painful despite reducing in frequency. It had taken all Sandy's powers of persuasion to convince her that sleeping pills weren't the answer. Hiding from the pain didn't make it go away; it was just easier in the short term. He knew which Kirsten he preferred sleeping with. As much as he hated to see her cry it was better than the unconscious shell, the Kirsten he loved absent, not that she was really there when awake either. Consequently the disturbed nights continue to take their toll on them both. He watched her sleep for a while but it became too painful; she still looked a pale imitation of herself and his head was crowded with memories and wistful thoughts of what should have been.

The balcony of the room looked warm and inviting in the late afternoon sun and thinking guiltily of a case only half-prepared for, Sandy took his laptop out to the table. It wasn't very successful; the screen failing to hold his attention, preoccupied with real life problems rather than yet another petty violation of the noise ordinance at Crystal Cove. He must have nodded off against his hand because the next thing he knew he felt there was someone watching him. When he turned round, Kirsten was stood leaning against the doorframe, smiling softly. She was wearing a loose robe he knew they hadn't brought and her extended stomach was visible, pressing the white folds outward, the way it should have been.

'Sandy?' she asked, but her lips didn't move. 'Sandy?'

He blinked and found his wife beside him looking anxious. The sight of her sans bump and healthy glow was startling and he had to look away as tears pricked the back of his eyes. Kirsten reached out and gently turned his face back to face her, soft fingers pressing firmly against his stubble. Two pairs of tear-filled blue eyes met and locked, a flurry of words and emotions passing silently between them. Sandy broke the connection first, uncomfortable with the display of emotion in front of his wife.

'It's okay Sandy,' she murmured as he ducked his head. 'You don't have to hide it. You don't have to pretend to protect me, I understand.'

Her husband shook his head and stood up, 'I'm gonna go shower.'

She followed him back in as he ducked back inside. 'Sandy?'

'Don't, please Kirsten, just don't,' was the choked response as he disappeared and she was left standing in the shadowy hotel room alone. She longed to lie back down and soak her pillow with the same tears that were soon swirling down the drain at Sandy's feet, but resisted the temptation. It was her turn to be strong, take up part of the burden she had let Sandy shoulder alone for too long. But right now, with Sandy denying anything was wrong, she would just have to direct her concern at her boys back home. And so instead of crying over her lost daughter, distant husband and failing marriage, Kirsten called her sons.

---

Sandy could hear Kirsten chatting once he had turned off the shower and guessed she had phoned home. He debated going out and talking to them himself; it would make him feel better he knew. Seth's crazy ramblings and Ryan's comfortable silences never failed to bring a smile to his face but he didn't want to test that theory. Plus, Ryan at least would pick up on his gravelly voice and the awkward vibe between his foster parents even over the phone line. It was easier all round if he stayed in the bathroom and finished shaving, or rather, strategically cutting himself as his mind flitted between the tangled knot of thoughts in his head and the half of the conversation he could hear through the door not the razor in his hand.

Kirsten was still sat on the bed toying uneasily with the phone in her hands when he finally reappeared. 'The boys are fine,' she said quietly.

'Good…good,' he answered, standing looking at her for a moment.

'You're bleeding,' she realised suddenly reaching up towards his chin, not commenting on his red rimmed eyes. Sandy jerked his head sharply away.

'It's fine, I just nicked it while shaving.'

Offers of antiseptic or kisses died on her lips and her outstretched hand crumpled and drew back, wounded. Guilt began to creep through his veins at the hurt expression on her face but for some reason he turned away rather than apologising, fumbling with his suitcase in a pathetic attempt to mask the awkwardness that had settled silently over them like a fog, coiling itself between them and making him feel worse. Alone together without the boys there was less reason to pretend and suddenly the cracks between them were transformed into a gaping chasm and for once in his life he couldn't find the words to bridge it.

He didn't want to feel this upset, this angry, this uncomfortable, this confused but he did and he sure as hell didn't know what to do about it. Kirsten's feelings he was tuned to, her emotions he could read and respond accordingly, his own, when he let them come unchecked, were more of a closed book and yet he was pushing away the one person who understood. Sometimes he hated how screwed up he was.

'Are…we gonna talk about what just happened?' she asked eventually and Sandy turned round to find her now twisting the rings on her fourth finger, the phone back in its cradle.'

'What?'

'You blanking me, bailing on a conversation, snapping at me?'

'Sorry.'

Kirsten sighed. 'It's okay, just…is there anything you want to say?'

'Don't make this an issue because it's not.'

'Uhu, well it is an issue because I'm worried about you.'

'You don't need to be.'

'And about us.'

'Kirsten…'

'Face it Sandy, you've been too busy looking after me to grieve, you're bound to resent me for that and…'

'Well I don't.'

'I just think we need to focus on you for a while, we need to talk about us.'

'Where do you get all this from? I'm fine, we're fine.'

'I know you're not and after the year we've had you can't say our marriage is perfect.'

'Stop it honey, you're picking holes in everything and making problems where there aren't any.'

'No, just because I want to talk about you this time.'

'There's nothing to talk about.'

'You know this kind of thing hits couples really hard.'

'Not us.'

'It is. We haven't grieved together and I've let you down.'

'I thought we were past the self-blame stage.'

'I knew everything would catch up with you sometime.'

'Quit with the psychobabble.'

'See, this is what I'm talking about; you're mad at me.'

'No I'm not…I just thought this weekend might be better. I thought we were trying to get away from it all.'

'I know, I'm sorry but…we're never going to be able to escape completely, this is who we are now.'

'It doesn't have to change who we are.'

'I didn't mean it like that exactly…it's just I can't forget or even pretend to.'

'I'm not asking you to.'

'Okay! …Then why are we fighting?'

The heated exchange suddenly deflated.

'See?' she asked. 'See how something isn't right between us, we're fighting over nothing.'

'And that's unusual?' he asked teasingly. Kirsten reached out to nudge him and he caught her arm, pulling her towards him. They fell together, Kirsten clutching her husband to regain her balance.

'I love you,' he said urgently, cupping her face so she couldn't escape his eyes.

'Does that mean you'll tell me what's wrong?'

Sandy sighed, 'I prefer your usual answer.'

'And you'll get it as long as you promise to talk to me.'

'I'm impatient I guess, that's all. I want you to be happy.'

'I am happy.'

'You know what I mean.'

'Seriously honey I'm doing fine, well, better, but you can't always fix everything.'

'I can't help it.'

'I know, I love you.'

---

A.N. I'm not planning on writing their entire conversation. Is that gonna disappoint you? I just feel we know what it's about, I don't want to get repetitive. But I'm open to suggestions. Let me know!

---

---

'Tell me princess, when was the last time you let your heart decide?'

Leave me a review.

---