A week later, Dean had a show to do. Two shows in Philly then he was off on the road again. I worried for him.
Days earlier, we had tried to concieve again but to no avail.
I was sitting ringside watching Dean wrestle in the ring. I could clearly see his frustrations and his anger. He completely snapped and got disqualified. He didn't listen to referee's warnings and kept beating the shit out of his opponent. Officials from the back had to drag him out of the ring.
After the show, I found Dean sitting down near the locker rooms drinking a bottle of water. Dave ran up to him.
"Hey, Dean. What's wrong?"
Dean looked tired and he was sweating.
"Nothing. Just tired is all," he said, giving Dean a sweaty hug.
Roman had turned the corner and found us.
"Hey, Desiree, Dave," he said.
"Hey, Roman!" Dave said, going up to Roman.
Roman kneeled down to give Dave a hug.
"Hey, Roman, can you go take Dave to get a snack or something? I need to talk to Dean," I said.
"Sure. Let's go get some candy, shall we?" Roman said to Dave.
"TWIX!"
Once those two had turned the corner, I focused my attention on Dean. He didn't look up at me. His eyes were glued to the floor. I kneeled down.
"Babe," I said, placing a hand on his leg. "You need to talk to me."
Dean finally unglued his gaze to the floor and looked at me.
"I need to go shower," he said before abruptly leaving.
I sat in the chair he was sitting in and decided to wait for him. I knew me losing the baby fucked him up bad. I was still not over it but Dean struggled to come to terms with it.
Later on that night, me and Dean had sex again.
Instead of being gentle and kind but a little rough like he always was, he was completely rough.
The headboard kept hitting the wall. I thought he was going to put a hole in it.
His breathing was fast and he was sweating. His head was in the crook of my neck. He planted sloppy kisses on my neck and lips. I had wrapped my legs around him, which he loved.
He desperately wanted another baby. His heart was still aching from losing the first one.
Dean fucked me faster and faster until I came. Dean came inside of me, emptying his seed inside. He pulled out and steadied his breathing. He looked into my eyes. He looked tired. He gave me a tired smile and kissed me before getting out of bed. He slipped his boxer's on along with some sweatpants and left the room.
I remained where I was, waiting for his return. He came back with a glass of water in his hand. He went to his side of the bed and drunk it down fast. He set the glass on his nightstand and crawled under the covers. He turned and faced me.
"Desiree," he said.
"Yes?"
"Despite what we've been through, are you willing to give me another chance?"
"Of course," I said. "But.."
"Yeah?"
"You have to stop drinking so much."
"What?"
"Stop drinking so much."
With this he shot up.
"Are you calling me an alcoholic?"
"No, I'm not. But you never drank like that until I lost the baby. I understand you're frustrated and all, but drinking isn't the way."
"I didn't know how else to fucking cope, Desiree!"
"You don't have to drink yourself into an early grave, Dean!" I said.
"We both lost a child," Dean said, shaking his head. "You have your way of coping and I have mine. Then on top of that, your...nevermind."
Dean turned back over with his back facing towards me.
"I get it, Dean. My brother is a pain in the ass. It's actually his fault shit is the way it is now," I said. "If he hadn't poisoned your mind with lies, I still have our baby."
"And that's also why I feel shitty," Dean said. "I feel like shit for actually listening to him and believing him, despite everything that we've been through."
I scooted over to him and layed on him.
"Dean, I know we can make it. You just have to trust me," I said.
Dean looked at me with a slight smile on his face.
"I trust you," he said.
It was Friday and Dean was getting ready to leave.
"I'll be back in March. They're going to give me a little break by then," Dean said. "What does that thingy say?"
He was referring to the home pregnancy test I had bought earlier that day. Dean wanted to see if I was pregnant or not.
I looked at the test. My heart fell south.
"Well?" he asked, anxiously.
I looked up at him.
"Negative."
"Negative!? What do you mean negative?"
"I'm not pregnant, Dean."
With that, Dean left the bathroom.
I heard glass breaking in the kitchen once again and I heard Dean cry out.