Written All Over Your Face

It was Sunday. Miranda woke up to find that Ben was no longer beside her. She said a prayer and climbed out their king-sized bed. She threw on her robe and wandered around the house and concluded that he wasn't there, even though his car was in their driveway. There was no note or a message from him on her phone, just the one missed call from her father. She'd call him sometime today. She went back upstairs and decided to go for a walk. She got dressed, picked up her headphones and left the house. On her walk, Miranda tried to clear her mind. But all she kept thinking about was how Ben had yelled at her and how shocked she still was about it. And while it had shocked her, it had also completely turned her on. She thought back to Ben, approaching her, arms flailing and anger seeping from his biceps. Miranda smiled as she walked past Tuck's school. She took a deep breath and stretched her muscles. Seeing Ben angry was a rare occurrence, but every time he did, Miranda felt herself wanting to jump into his arms and make him forget why he was upset in the first place. She stopped at a corner and wiped the sweat off of her brow, pushing it back into her hair. Miranda took a deep breath, put her hands on her hips and took a sip of her water. She turned around and retraced her steps back to her house. Ben's car was still there. In the house, she headed straight for the refrigerator and pulled out a Gatorade. She went upstairs to change, twisting the cap off of her drink, gulping half of the bottle. She put it on the dresser, along with her phone, and peeled off her sweaty clothes making a pile on the floor. Completely naked, she walked towards the bathroom. The door was slightly open. Miranda pushed it open and came face to face with an equally naked Ben. She yelped and her face grew hot. She reached for the nearest towel, embarrassed. And then she felt embarrassed because she was embarrassed. He was her husband, but thinking about what was happening between them and how he'd reacted last night, he felt like a stranger to her. "Ben! What the hell?!"

"Hello, baby," he said with a smirk staring at her practically naked body. She looked at his as well and she had to force her jaw not to drop and her hand not to reach out and touch. Well, at least he was still physically attracted to her.

She waved him off. "You scared the crap out of me. I th-thought you were gone," she said struggling to get the words out.

"Nope. Why would you think that?" She shrugged. "My car's still here. And I didn't leave you a message, so you should have known that I was somewhere in the house."

"Yeah," she said softly.

"I was in the basement working out."

"Oh! Right, of course." She nodded. "Didn't check down there."

"That's because you find it creepy," he answered with a laugh.

"That's because it is."

"Mmmhmm. So, uh, where were you?" She started to answer. "See I didn't get a message from you and your car was also here, so I assumed you were in the house, but you weren't. And I know because checked every room of this house."

Miranda almost smiled. She bit her lip instead. "You did?"

He nodded. "So?"

"I went for a walk."

"And how was it?" Ben asked kissing her cheek and moving past her to the bedroom, still naked. She followed him staring at his butt, biting the corner of her bottom lip. She watched as he got dressed.

Miranda couldn't wait to take a shower, her body was going crazy. "It was good." He nodded. "But I'm feeling all sweaty and disgusting so I'm going to take a shower." Ben nodded again as Miranda hopped into the shower, cooling her body down.

Coming out of the shower, Miranda noticed that was a note from Ben on the bed: This is a note. And this note means that I'm heading out for a little. I'll be I'm going to get us some breakfast or lunch. I'll be back. Love, Ben. Miranda read the note three times, trying to figure out how he might have finished the crossed out sentence. And trying to get more out of the letter than what was written. She put it down and got dressed. Lying in her bed, she decided to read a little bit of the novel that was collecting dust on her nightstand. Her phone rang and, thinking it was Ben, she scurried out of bed to get it. It was her father again. She groaned and debated whether or not she should answer. Honestly, she wasn't really in the mood to talk to anyone but Ben. She answered the call anyway. She was the only child of her parents after all. "Hello?"

"Mandy!" Her father, William Bailey, bellowed. He chuckled at the sound of his own voice. Miranda smiled for what felt like the first time since the wedding. "Can't return a phone call?"

"I was just about to call you actually." Her father made a noise that conveyed that he didn't believe her. "I was. I just returned home."

Her father made the same noise again. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," she responded.

"Lie to everyone but yourself, Miranda," he said calling her out on her lie. "So, talk to me."

"Seriously, daddy. Everything is… good. Tuck is good. He's at Tucker's for the weekend. I'm good. And Ben is—"

"Good?" He offered.

She shook her head. "Yeah. Um, yeah… he's good."

"Okay. Just know—"

"Daddy, I know, okay?" She said firmly.

"Know what?" He asked testing her.

"That even though mom gave birth to me, you and I have a connection that she and I don't have. I've heard and experienced it all before, father. Thank you."

"That's right." He said satisfactorily. "So, if you know that you should know that I know something is wrong and you just need to tell me. Keeping it away from me doesn't do either one of us any good." Miranda felt her eyes swelling. This wasn't the first time that they'd had this conversation. Her father seemed to interfere at the most inopportune times, but whenever he called she always needed his advice, always needed his help.

Since she was a child, he'd been telling her that he could feel her pain, sense when she needed some guidance or just somebody to talk to. As a teen, she thought it was him trying to get her to open up. But time and time again, their connection had been proven to her. "Okay," she said sighing. She heard him excuse himself from his mother's presence. Her parents already knew about her OCD, they'd even wanted to come to Seattle, but she'd declined. Miranda filled her father in on the details surrounding it, even gently hitting the fact that she and Ben weren't having sex. He listened carefully as she spoke, her voice shaking at times. "And so he's gone—"

"He left you!" Her father said into her ear.

"No, no, no. No, daddy, he went out to get us some breakfast or lunch or something."

"Oh!"

"Yeah and I'm upstairs and we're not really talking. Well, not talking more than we were already not talking."

William chuckled. "So, Mandy, what are you going to do about it?" He asked simply.

"I don't know," she told him with a laugh. Miranda reached behind her and fluffed the pillows

"You know you're wrong, don't you?" He asked.

"I am not!" She countered, picking her book up and flipping through the pages, absentmindedly. "I am not wrong. I don't think either of us is."

"See, honey, that's where you're wrong." Miranda swallowed. "Yeah, Ellie, she's okay. And I want to leave in like an hour, so go and get dressed," William said talking to Miranda's mother, Elena.

"Tell mom I said 'hi,' please."

"Maybe later. Back to the subject. What was I saying?" He thought for a second. "Oh yeah, you're wrong."

"Stop saying that!"

"Mandy, I've known you all your life and one thing that you never, ever want to do is admit when you're wrong." She started to interject. "But, I've been married longer than you've been on this earth. And I have been wrong a lot of times, ask your mother. But—and your mother will deny this, but I have been in the right a few times, too." They both laughed. "So trust me when I say you're in the wrong on this situation." Miranda rolled her eyes. "Roll your eyes again and I just might smack them out of your head, Miranda Bailey." She didn't speak. "That's what I thought."

Miranda smiled. "Butidontthinkimwrong. Hestheonewhoquit," she said quickly.

"You don't get it."

"Clearly not."

"Here's the thing about marriage, you have to learn to compromise—"

"I know that," Miranda responded.

"Just listen, Miranda," her father said strictly. "If you don't learn to compromise, if you try to work it out so that you're right AND he's right, then you'll both lose." Miranda inhaled deeply. "You chastised him for trying to help, for being there for you. The very thing he promised you on your wedding day, the same thing that he promised me when the two of us first met. That he would be there." She nodded, a tear slipping down her face. "Then!—then you didn't tell him that you didn't love him, you didn't say that he was flat-out wrong, you said that you were disappointed in him." Miranda felt her heart vibrate at the word. Had she said that to Ben? "And no man, no husband, not even Ben, who is really a great guy, baby, ever wants to hear that they disappointed their woman, their wife." Damn it, he was right. He was so right. They were quiet. "But I'll tell you one thing."

"What's that?" Miranda asked wistfully.

"I'm glad to hear that he finally went off on you," William said laughing his loud laugh. "It was probably well-deserved."

Miranda fought the urge to join in and instead she smiled and said: "Yeah, he did. I was so stunned." Her father laughed some more. "But, daddy, I am sorry," she admitted. She told William that she knew that, but she could never form the words to say how she felt. And how she hadn't meant it, that she was glad that he was back.

Miranda could practically hear her father nod. "Okay, Mandy. If you really mean that then tell him this…"

She listened intently, silently repeating the words her father was saying to her. "Okay. I got it."