13 Years Ago

It's not enough I can hear the door pulsating, but I can feel it in my fingertips, my arms, my legs, all the way to my core as I stand outside in line. The bouncer continues to inspect my ID, like I'm underage or something. Eventually he returns it to me in exchange for my $10 cover, which I'm quick to hand over.

I latch arms with Raye once he pushes the wooden black door open, the vibrations of the bass rippling off the walls, growing louder as we make our way down the black-painted hallway, heavily decorated with bumper stickers and outdated flyers for those who performed at Chubbs before.

We make our way to the coat check, slip off our raincoats and hand them to the woman behind the bar. I eye and approve of Raye's choice of outfit; a tattered Nirvana top against a pleated red plaid mini. She is definitely feeling it tonight! I adjust my tube top, deep red with grey rhinestones underneath my chest, dust off imaginary lint off my black miniskirt, and make my way into the bar.

"Wow, full house tonight!" Raye shouts over the music, but I nod lazily, transfixed on the frontman of the band bellowing into the microphone. The way his fingers press into the strings, his hands fluidly move against the instrument as if it was an extension of his soul. He rocks, rolls against the power of the notes coming from his fingertips while he sings into the microphone.

"Our love is like water, beaten down and abused for being strange…"

He's dressed in his vintage washed Ramones top, fitted just enough to see his muscles underneath the fabric, paired with dark-washed jeans and his black chucks. Around his wrist is a metal studded black cuff, his neck a double leather necklace cord. His long, black hair is pulled back into a ponytail, waving in fluidity with each turn his head makes. His eyes are closed as his lips move, chords of Live's hit song energizing the crowd, currently moshed around the stage and headbanging in sync. It's the largest crowd to date I've seen of the Three Lights, and I can't help but itch to get up front and throw my head back and dance.

Raye's leaned over the bar and trying to get the bartender's attention, but I tug her away to join the crowd. "Come on!" I insist with a pull of her arm, and she's quick to oblige, because she's by my side as we push through the mass, making our way as close to the front as possible. Were a few feet back from the stage, and in perfect time for Seiya's guitar solo, because as he positions himself in his 'solo-stance', his wrist expertly picking against the strings, his eyes catch mine. I let my body move, swaying my breast, my shoulders under his hooded gaze, only to throw my arms back when he belts out the final chorus of the cover;

"Pay me now lay me down; lay me down, down; pay me now pay me now, lay me down, lay me down, layyyyy-"

I practically lose it when he tips his head back and belts out the final "ohhh" of the song, screaming and applauding as the band wraps up their amazing cover of the song. Watching that man sing; God, it's such a fucking turn on. The way he moves his hips, his lips; his voice is from another universe, so edgy, so deep, so god damn sexy.

He tosses me a lopsided grin and wink as he strums his guitar, and I shout and applaud even louder before I fall under the intoxication of his next song, their cover of Everclear's "Father of Mine." The crowd cheers and looses itself when he strums out the first few chords of the 90s hit.

Raye signals to me that she needs refreshment a few songs in, and I willingly follow her, eager for a rum and coke myself. We order and sip at our drinks, the band now belting out "Semi-Charmed Life," and I can't help but shake my hips to the beat.

"They are on fire tonight," Raye comments as she sips at her drink.

"Hell yeah they are!" I shout back. I begin to mouth the lyrics as I fiddle with my straw, my eyes watching Seiya sinuously move around the stage. It's easy to see the passion, let alone hear it, as he hits the notes with expertise. His voice, his musical talent; I'm convinced he was crafted by the Gods to be an entertainer, not a teacher.

"Fuck he looks hot tonight," I comment, unable to tear my eyes away from him.

"How long has it been?" Raye asks with a nudge into my arm. I let out a sigh.

"Two weeks," I reply with a groan. With my finals coming up, I've holed myself in my dorm, taking every practice test and cramming every bit of knowledge possible into my brain. The first year of law school has been tough; like, ridiculously insane. I've barely had time for friends, let alone see my boyfriend. So after shoving in every last piece of Torts and Contracts into my brain that I could, I decided I needed one night away to clear my mind so I could refocus tomorrow.

Plus, I missed him like crazy.

"We're going to take a 15 minute break, so don't go anywhere," I suddenly hear Seiya announce to the crowd, and I jump and clap at the opportunity to finally see him. In fact, I didn't bother to wait for him to come to me; I run through the crowd and jump into him, where I am thrilled that he is waiting with open arms to catch me. He wraps his hand around the back of my head, pulling me in for a soul-crushing kiss, his other hand grabbing my ass provocatively. I moan further into the kiss and press myself harder into him, separating only when I finally need to take a breath.

"I thought you weren't able to make it," Seiya exclaims as he rests his hands on my hips, toying with the waist of my skirt.

I grin at the gesture, responding by trailing my finger down his chest. "I missed you too much to stay away," I purr at him, my other arm grazing his cheek, before I let out a yelp when he pulls me into him for another kiss.

"God, I've missed you, baby," he responds in between kisses, and I feel like a woman possessed by his touch. "Are you sticking around?" he asks, and I can't help but grin at the hidden plea I can hear in his question.

"And miss watching you look like Kurt Cobain up there? Not a chance in Hell," I affirm.

"Mm, Kurt Cobain, you say?" he asks, a twinkle in his eye.

"Only much, much hotter," I indorse with another kiss. "Now get back up there so I can keep thinking about taking those clothes off of you later."

His grin is as wide as ever. "Oh yea?"

I nod vigorously. "Hell yeah."

"Yes ma'am," he complies, but not before giving me a final kiss to leave me hanging. More intoxicating than tequila, more addicting than sugar, that man, my beautiful, sexy, rocker boyfriend makes me feel things I never knew I could feel. I giggle as we separate, him back up with his bandmates and me making my back over to Raye, who is rolling her eyes at me.

"God, if his hands went any further up your skirt I was gonna have to come over there," she comments as she finishes off her drink. I can't help but giggle again, affected by the brief touches we exchanged, hungry for so much more.

"Oh shut up," I laugh as I finish my own drink. "It's been two weeks. I'm horny as fuck."

"Yeah, clearly," she responds. "You're going back to his place tonight I assume, yes?"

I nod. "Yuuuuup."

"Slut."

"Whore!"

"Bitch!"

We conclude our loving spat with some nudging and boob punches before dashing back into the crowd, dancing the night away; Seiya's voice and Captain Morgan flowing through our veins.

#

"Thanks, Taiki," Seiya shouts as he slaps the back of the van, signaling to his bandmate that he has all of his stuff. The "Who's the Boss" looking van peels off into the night before turning the corner, leaving Seiya and I to take his stuff up to his fifth floor, makeshift attic apartment. I pick up the amplifier and some cords, Seiya carrying the rest, and we make our way up the old staircase of the converted 1920's home.

When we finally arrive at the apartment, he opens the door in haste and practically drops all the stuff on the adjacent futon, pulling me into him immediately. Before I can even giggle, yelp, or say something, he pulls my top down, freeing my breast from my strapless bra and latches on to me. I moan, tip my head back, and wrap my leg around him, pulling him into me, wanting more; needing so much more. His hand gropes at my free breast quickly before descending to my skirt, yanking it down, along with my panties, to my ankles in haste. I can feel his need against me, and I want it bad.

I fumble with his belt buckle, desperate to unbutton his jeans and feel him inside me. Two weeks. Two weeks of no sex, no touches, no kisses, and I'm a woman starved. I finally fumble enough to loosen the belt when he takes over, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them down just enough with his boxers before he hoists me against the wall and slips easily inside of me.

I grasp at his tee and moan into his hair as he thrusts into me and against the wall. My legs wrap around his hips like a vice as he goes deeper, harder, faster. For a few minutes we last this way, but he soon carries me into the bedroom, and I am thrilled to take over. Once we land on the bed, I pull all the remaining articles of clothing off of us before I straddle him and lower on to him, satisfied when I hear his deep, sexy moan of content. His hands grasp at my hips as I grind against him, slowly, then quick, grasping at his chest when I feel my orgasm about to hit. He lifts up from the bed into a seated position and rakes his fingers in my hair, holding me as I feel my orgasm cascade over me, continuing to thrust as my body convulse against him.

I'm on Cloud 9. My body is tingling, sensitive to his touch as I fall under intoxication of his while he continues to fuck me into the night.

When we've finished, I lay on his chest, tracing delicate circles over his muscles while he lazily runs his fingers up my arm. He kisses my dampened forehead, and I close my eyes and savor in the moment.

"I'm glad you came out tonight," he murmurs into my hair. I sigh happily in appreciation.

"Me too," I agree sluggishly, fatigue creeping up.

"You going back to school tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I yawn. "I have my first final Monday at 8."

"Mm," he responds. "What are your plans after finals?"

"I'll probably just go back to my Mom's for the month," I reply, suddenly alert with the line of questioning. "Why?"

"Just wondering," he replies lazily.

"Ah."

"Because, you know, if you want to, I don't know, stay here for the month, you can," he suddenly suggests. My eyes widen at the proposal; did he just—

I lift my head up to look at him. "Are you asking me to move in with you during break?"

He smiles, his hand now rubbing my back. "Yeah, I am."

I snuggle deeper into him, kissing him on his cheek. God, this man.

"I love you," I say as I kiss his cheek again, pressing my nakedness against his side. He responds with wrapping his other arm around me, kissing my forehead, and holding me tightly until I feel myself begin to fade off.

I am the luckiest woman on earth.

#

I yawn into the sleeve of my hoodie, unable to focus on the study session I am attending. After the welcomed break following fall semester, this spring I have been struggling to stay awake. Which, honestly, surprises me, because I pretty much was in bed all of January. Sure, I was either in bed or in bed, but overall I barely did anything besides relax or catch up on my reading. It was a much needed, very pleasurable and intense six weeks off.

Now I am paying for it. We're currently going over legislation and regulatory state law and I can't help but yawn over and over again.

"Coffee break?" I finally say when I can't take it anymore. Despite my group looking extremely annoyed, they grant my request, likely so I can stop yawning and actually contribute. I don't blame them; after all, yawning is contagious.

I get up from our table at the library and make my way over to the coffee shop. While I wait in line, I take in a greedy inhale of the fresh roasted coffee. Thank God this place stays open until eleven, otherwise I'm sure none of us would survive.

"Large hazelnut coffee, please," I order when it's my turn at the counter, swiping my meal card per the cashier's instruction. They dispense the pre-brewed hazelnut coffee into a Styrofoam cup and I watch like a possessed person, so much I was truly startled when Michiru from my study group tapped me on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you!" she apologized as she bobbed her head. Michiru, a sweetheart who came over from Japan, was one of the first girls I clicked with here at UW. Dorm neighbors, she and I bonded over our love of coffee and classical music, as she is a violinist. She gave me a warm smile once I regained my composure and apologized to her for my overreaction. "Are you alright?"

I nod my head as I retrieve my drink. "Just tired is all," I lament before I make my way to the cream and sugar.

"Okay," she says, but her voice is unconvincing.

"Seriously, I'm alright, just a little more tired than usual is all," I reaffirm to her.

"Alright, I believe you," she says. "I just want to make sure you are not getting sick is all."

I shake my head adamantly. "Nope, not sick. No cold or cough here," I assure her.

She smiles once again, but she's already planted a seed of doubt. Why am I so tired?

As we make our way back to the table and I sip at my coffee, I intentionally engage more and hold back my yawns, but the fatigue lingers. But why? Why am I so tired? Sure, I'm studying, but I'm asleep before midnight, and classes aren't until 10, so I'm getting plenty of sleep. Plus, I haven't been going out with friends or Seiya, so I know I'm not spreading myself entirely thin. Do I need to cool it on the studying? Maybe I am getting sick and my body is telling me to chill out. I mentally sigh. This is not the time to be slowing down. I need to stay on top if I have a snowball's chance in Hell into being accepted into one of the competitive internship programs in the city this summer.

My resolve renewed, I focus all my brainpower on the material in front of me. I will not be stopped.

#

It has been six weeks and I still can't stop yawning.

At the insistence of Michiru, I am at the campus clinic to see if maybe my blood sugar levels are low or something along those lines. Maybe its my Vitamin levels? Who knows. Either way, I'm currently sitting in the office, waiting for the Doctor to arrive.

I glance around the room, my lips pursed in annoyance at how long I've been waiting. Sure, it's only been about fifteen minutes, but I have much better things I could be doing. Plus, with it being Friday, I was really hoping to go see Seiya's band perform tonight, but the only time I could get this stupid appointment was at 6:30. Maybe if the doc hurries up, I can get in, get out, and go see his show. Figures it starts at 7 and is on the other side of the city.

The sound of the door startles me out of my mental bickering. An older woman walks in, her graying blonde hair framing her face as she takes off her rimmed glasses before looking at me.

"I'm Doctor Sanders," she introduces afore getting right to the point. "What's going on today?"

"Um, I've just been really tired. Like, overly tired lately. More than usual," I say with a shrug, thinking of how freaking stupid I sound. Of course I'm tired! Name a University student who isn't!

"Okay," she says as she opens up a chart. "Are you on a multivitamin?"

"Yes."

"Getting at least 7 hours of sleep a night?"

"Yes."

"Plenty of fluids?"

"Yes."

"Pregnant?"

I scoff. "I don't think so."

"You don't think so?"

I shake my head. "I'm on the pill."

She blinks a few times. "When was the last time you got your period?"

"I don't get my period on this pill," I point out to her. Why is she focusing on this?

She frowns. "I'd like to rule out pregnancy before we go any further." She turns around and retrieves a paper cup off of the countertop and hands it to me. "Use the restroom and pee in the cup, then leave it inside the little silver door. Just a precaution," she adds with a smile, clearly trying to soothe the face I must have on. I'm not pregnant. No fucking way. I haven't thrown up or had morning sickness. No weight gain, no baby bump.

As I walk out of the room and into the bathroom to relieve myself, I swallow hard.

I can't be pregnant. I can't be. No.

She's delusional.

I can't wait for her to be wrong.

#

"You're going to want to follow up with your Obstetrician to see how far along you are. I would recommend making an appointment immediately, as well as take a prenatal vitamin. No alcohol intake, and make sure you limit your caffeine intake to only 1 cup of coffee a day. I know this is a shock to you."

Tears haven't stopped falling down my face since I left the clinic.

I'm pregnant. Unknown number of weeks pregnant. At least six, but most likely more.

Currently, I'm sitting against Seiya's apartment door, waiting for him to come home from his show. As much as I wanted to go there and talk to him, I couldn't do that to him. He was going to be singing some of their original work tonight; I couldn't drop this bomb on him there. That wouldn't be fair. It's bad enough I had it given to me at my fucking school's clinic when I was adamant I wasn't pregnant.

I drop my head into my knees. I can't believe this is happening to me.

I'm a good person. I'm faithful, loyal, and a hard worker. And now I'm pregnant? With a man who I've only been dating for 8 months? Yeah, we spent that one month in bed pretty much fucking the entire time, but I am on the pill. I am diligently, without fail, clockwork on the pill to make sure something like this doesn't happen.

And yet, here I am.

"Babe?" I look up and see Seiya, guitar in one hand, amp in the other. He's dressed in his typical band attire: dark washed jeans, chucks, and a Clash t-shirt.

I stare at the t-shirt. Why the t-shirt and not his face, I'm not entirely sure. Maybe because the shirt represents everything I'm about to take away from him. Maybe because it's what's I'm about to lose out on. But the moment I see the shirt, that olive green shirt with the faded album cover image worn from years of wear, I burst into tears.

He is by my side in an instant, wrapping his arm around me, comforting me, coaxing me to tell him what's wrong. But every time I look into his tender eyes, filled with concern for me, all I can think of is that I'm about to alter whatever path we're on.

It's no surprise that his hands cease their tenderness and freeze when I finally find the words and tell him "I'm pregnant." He looks whitewashed; defeated, terrified, and at a loss. He sinks down on the floor next to me, as if the wind was knocked out of him, and I can't blame him. We're 22. We haven't even scratched the surface of knowing one another, let alone even knowing ourselves.

He drops his head into his hands and a deathly silence lingering over us. He stays that way for a few moments, his fingers gripping at his bangs, the already unruly ponytail becoming frazzled as he continues to pulse his fingers against the follicles of his black hair.

"What do we do?" he finally asks, a horse voice, as if he is trying himself not to get emotional.

"I don't know," I answer in an honest whisper. And I don't know. How we handle this? Do we keep it? Do we move in together? Raise it separately? The questions are overwhelming. "I have no idea," I say as my voice breaks, fresh tears streaming down my face. All I see is the end of law school. Me, by myself, struggling to juggle daycare and taking classes. Seiya hating me for ruining his musical ambitions. Seiya hating me for strapping him down.

A few more moments of silence pass by us when he finally lifts his head. I look over at him and see a new expression on his face; resolve. Perseverance.

"You move in with me," he begins, "and we get married. That's what we do."

#

Present Day

It's funny how things come back full circle.

How the look Seiya had when I told him I was pregnant is the same look he gave me when I walked through the door just 15 minutes before. How his hands that once beautifully played the guitar and evoked such passionate responses from my body were being used as a way to facilitate his emotions as he spoke each painful word.

How he came to resent the life he settled for.

How he wished we waited before we rushed into marriage.

How he slowly fell out of love with me.

"I'm sorry, Serena," he concludes his dissertation as he grasps at his bangs. I watch him finger his hair, gripping them while he waits for me to speak, and I'm at a loss.

Yes, we have been having problems for months. Maybe years. But to end our marriage?

"So, that's it? Just, it's over?"

"Sere," he begins, looking back up at me.

"No, you just say it's over, just like that? No attempt to even try and fix it?" I stand up quickly, the chair falling backwards and hitting the kitchen floor. The noise gives me slight reprieve from the fire building inside of me.

"Fix what? Fix that we were strangers to each other now? For fuck's sake, Serena, I hardly recognize you anymore."

"Me? You hardly recognize me? That's absurd; I'm the person who takes care of your family, the one who fucking sacrificed everything to cater after you!" I cry out, throwing my hands up in the air.

"Don't I know it!" he yells back at me, slamming his hands on the table as he stands up to challenge me. "I know you gave up law school, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this family destroyed your dream. But I gave up shit, too. It's not just you who lost out on everything!"

"Yet you're the one giving up," I coldly state. "You're done. You want out. Well fine, Seiya. Fine. Go ahead. Leave. Get the fuck out. GO."

"Serena, I—"

"GO."

We stare at each other for a moment longer, and although I feel the fire inside me blazing and the tears about to fall, I stare in his eyes, desperately searching for that look. The one he gave me when I walked down the aisle to him. The one that I saw the days our children were born. The one he gave me when I ran into his arms at Chubb's thirteen years ago.

Not a twinkle.

Not even a shimmer.

And just like he said, staring back at me were the hollow eyes of a stranger.

The tears finally fell. Staring into the loveless eyes of my husband, soon to be ex husband, I could feel my heart breaking. Breaking for my family, for the failure of a wife I was, for the end of something we built together. How he was right that we weren't in love anymore, but how he was wrong, so wrong to give up so quick.

He broke contact as he reached for the keys on the table slowly. Before he turned away, however, he took in a deep breath, his shoulders shuddering from his own hurt.

"I'm going to go get the kids," he said numbly. "I don't think it's wise to tell them before Christmas."

"I agree," I respond, the tone of my voice flat.

He nods, as if he is thanking me, before putting his coat on and walking outside. I hear the car start, the tires of the minivan crunching against the snow, the emptiness of the house a foreshadow of the life I'm about to embark on.

And as much as I agree with his words, that we did rush into marriage, that we did fall out of love, I sink to the floor and cry for the loss of my husband, the conclusion of my marriage.

"I want a separation."