Hey guys! So here is an update. I held off on sharing this fight they had, because I had a very specific time I wanted to share it and that time is now. Let me know what you think! Love you guys!
Flashback to the fight
I was worried my late afternoon meeting was going to run late, but it didn't. I went in at four this morning to get done as much as I could so I could get home at a reasonable hour to maybe get dressed up and do something special for when Josh got home. It's been over two weeks that he's been in Europe with the POTUS and like every time he's gone for an extended time, I miss him terribly. I hate sleeping in our bed without him, but it is part of the job and I can live with that. I made a quick Rachel Ray chicken recipe, roasted some potatoes and put together a quick salad kit I found at the grocery store and voila. It looks like he's coming home to a fancy wife. I love to cook, but it's something I rarely have time to do, but it was my goal all week to make him a nice dinner to come home to. I know the schedule doesn't always go to plan in the White House, but luckily this can be reheated and it's still rather early in the evening.
So knowing that he's been on the ground for over two hours and hasn't called or texted me, I admit I am getting a little antsy. Carol had told me they landed. After the first forty minutes of not hearing from him, I tried his phone and the call was sent to voicemail after one ring and then I texted him. I waited a while longer and tried him again, same thing. I am not a crazy girlfriend and I trust Josh entirely so calling him again is out of actual worry, because I know Josh. He makes the strongest effort to call me the moment he gets back even if he can't come home right away. Something is up. After an hour, I get a text that just says, 'not now' and that's it. I assume he's just really busy and I let it go. Dinner can be reheated. It's not that serious.
Until Lou calls me. She asks a question about a comment The First Lady made on television this morning and I explain it and then Lou tells me to have Josh tell me all about the soup incident in Prague. I tell her I will as soon as he gets home and she says she'll kick him out, because he's just watching the news clips of the day in his office. Again, it's not a big deal. He's probably busy and has a reason he needs to view them.
After a few hours of Air Force One being on the ground, I pour myself a big glass of wine and test the potatoes. I figured with all this extra time, I even made him brownies from a box and I deserve a glass for my effort. I wish I could go back and tell every man that has ever dumped me that I am a damn good catch. Luckily Josh knows that and rarely lets me forget. These are good potatoes. Josh is going to give me great sex tonight. Better than normal. Whenever I cook, he gets really turned on and I even made him some potatoes that were extra crispy. Maybe I should take my underwear off as an extra surprise for him and spit some random historical fact at him. He likes that. I quickly remove the white thong I was wearing and toss it into our hamper. I go into into our bathroom to get a glance at the dress I changed into when I got home. It's a dress I bought for work, but once I got home I felt like it was a little too revealing for the workplace. Josh loves it. I look at the pregnancy test box on the counter and debate if I want to check one more time before he gets home. I still haven't gotten my period, but so far all tests have been negative. I swore I wouldn't let it consume my mind, so I put the box underneath the sink at the very back behind some odds and ends we barely touch. I take one last at my back side as I hear the front door open and I adjust my hair before walking out of our bedroom. I hear him fumble with the lock like always before I make it to the entryway to see him putting his bags on the ground as his agent Greg enters the apartment and bypasses me. Any annoyance I had is out the window as I throw my arms around him, slamming my lips into his. He's kissing me back, but it's a bit slow and fatigued from a long journey. Normally, I would wait for the secret service to stop scoping the place out, but I really miss him. They zip through the apartment, before giving Josh a nod and stepping outside. "My man! You came home to me!"
"Hey." He breathes, dropping his hands to my waist. I got rid of the shoes I was wearing the moment I walked in the door so our two inch height difference is prominent at the moment which admittedly turns me on. I can't help myself so I deepen the kiss, pressing him into the wall before he breaks the kiss. "You missed me."
"Yes, I did." I grin, toying with the button at the top of his shirt. I want us naked, but I remember dinner. I made dinner. I take a step back and march confidently into the kitchen. "How was your flight?"
"It was fine, a little bumpy at the end." He sighs, tossing his suit jacket over the edge of the couch. "Did you cook?"
"Yes! I made chicken and potatoes…a salad which you better eat, because I am pretty sure you've avoided any real veggie over the last week." I tease, opening the cabinet near the sink to grab plates. "I'll have to reheat it, but it looks pretty tender."
"Donna…" He sounds defeated, tiredly running a hand over his face. "You know I can't always come home just because my flight arrived."
"I know that." I confirm casually, scooping out some chicken. "Wine or beer?"
"Donna." He exhales, as I assume beer and goes to the fridge. I grab him a cold beer and hand him the bottle and bottle opener that hangs on the side of the refrigerator. "I didn't just ignore you. I got back to the White House and there was a situation in the Eastern Mediterranean Sea and I needed to weigh in. I can't always return every call or text."
"And that's fine. I'm not upset." I insist, going to get my wine, as I toss one of the plates into the microwave. The only thing that weighs on my mind is that Lou mentioned he was just watching the news. Something he could do here. Either way, it's not my place to question and I trust that he was doing what he needed to do. "I was a little worried, but everything is fine."
"Worried?" Josh tosses the bottle lid into the trash and takes a swig, before sitting his bottle on the table. "About what? That my ears didn't pop?"
"Josh, I don't know." I laugh dryly with a shrug. "You said you would call me when you land and that you would be home. Sometimes when you love someone your mind wanders and goes to the worst place. You used to call sometimes just to make sure that I got home when we weren't even a couple."
"Yeah…I didn't call you three times." He falters and I take his plate out of the microwave, before placing mine in. I put his plate on the table, before grabbing our potatoes where they were warming in the oven. I pause as I sit the dish on the counter as his words replay over in my head. Three times. "Donna?"
"Yes, babe?" I answer as I try to remember that he's just tired and cranky, shaking it off and going to the kitchen table . He's cranky and I just need to let him burn off some steam. I grab one of the glass coasters and put his beer bottle on top of it.
"I'm just saying three times is a lot to call in a few hours for someone you're just going to get mad at for not using a coaster." He continues, before peeking at the dish of potatoes. "Donna…how much seasoning did you put on these? It looks like you dropped the bottle of…"
"Oh my god!" I groan, throwing my hands up. I don't know why it annoys me. He always pokes fun before he tries my food and never once has disliked anything. Okay wait. He didn't care for the brussel sprouts, but that was it. Still it feels like I have done something wrong. "Who pissed in Cheerios?"
"What?" He frowns.
"You're mad at me for calling you, because you didn't come home when you said you would. And let me just say I feel like three times isn't that unreasonable when you told me yesterday evening that you were going to fuck my brains out the moment you got in the door and would knock over anyone who got on your way between Andrews and our front door. So, I was a little concerned when you didn't even answer a text for a while. You're mad at how I cook potatoes and you're mad I put your beer on a coaster!" I groan as I slam a pot holder on the counter. "I followed a recipe so they shouldn't be too seasoned, you said we had to take care of the table because you have sentimental attachment to it because you and your Ivy League college buddies snagged it from a hotel lobby in a drunken charade so I bought coasters to protect the wood."
"Yeah, because you were painting your nails on it." He reminds me of a previous discussion. A discussion. We hadn't fought over my painting my nails at the table. No, if I remember correctly we've done quite a lot together on this table since.
"Fine…don't use a coaster." I surrender, dropping my shoulders. He doesn't say anything and I just take the dish of potatoes to the table, wondering how my excitement over him coming home swapped to us arguing. I assume he's exhausted and I know he's also facing jet lag, so I take a deep breath and decide I am going to redirect. It's not worth a silly argument. "Want to walk and get ice cream to go with the brownies I made tonight?"
"I can't, I have a call I need to be on in a couple hours." He answers quickly, sitting down at the table. "Let's just do this."
Let's just do this? Is my dinner inconveniencing him?
"I would have understood if you were too busy to eat dinner with me." I say, my hands on the back of my dinner chair. I don't sit down yet, but he just looks up at me. "You could have just told me."
"Yes, because that would have gone over so well." He sighs, stabbing his fork into some potatoes.
"Wait a second…" I put my hand up and shake my head. "Let's just cool it for a second. When have I ever gotten mad at you for being busy at work? In all the years you have known me? All I have ever done is try to get you to go home when I know your brain needs a break, but I am pretty sure I have never gotten upset, because you chose work over me."
"Donna, don't do this right now." Josh drops his fork, reaching for the beer. "You think I choose work over you?"
"You do and that's what I expect you to do! It's not something I hold against you. It's the job and I know my job! Sometimes it has to come first." I reply, trying to put out whatever fire has broken out in our kitchen. "Chief of Staff occupational hazards."
"Yeah except I'm not managing a preschool or PTA, I'm running an actual country!" Josh exclaims loudly and that's all it takes to piss me off. I really was trying to de escalate. Josh is in the mood from hell tonight and I feel like it's only getting worse. I couldn't tell you why this comes to mind, but I decide to walk towards our bedroom as I feel my temperature rising.
"Where are you going?" He calls after me, pushing his chair out from the treasured table.
"I'm putting my underwear back on!" I shout, grabbing a pair of panties from my lingerie drawer. I can feel myself get angry, but I am trying really hard to talk myself down. He's tired and cranky. Something probably happened to piss him off and he's taking it out on me. It's not okay, but we'll sort it out. However, he's not getting sex. I don't even care if we resolve it tonight. I don't feel in the mood any longer. As I slide them on, I make my way back to the kitchen and go to the counter to begin to wash the last of the pans I hadn't gotten to yet. "If you don't like the coasters, don't use them."
"It's not about the coasters, Donna." Josh raises his voice again, standing with his hands on his hips. "It's a billion throw pillows and blankets. It's the smelly candle in the entryway, because drowning someone in the smell of peonies is apparently the only way to welcome anyone into your home."
"You don't like the candle? Is that why you're in this mood?" I ask, storming to the front door. I grab the glass dish with the candle and walk it into the kitchen, bypassing him and tossing it right into the garbage. "There. Problem solved."
"It's not just that. I don't even feel like this is my home anymore. It feels like yours and it's not. It's mine. So I'm sick of all of this extra stuff. I don't need it." He says and I turn around quickly to face him. I feel my face go blank as he finishes, clearly realizing he may have said something he shouldn't have. I expect him to backtrack, but he doesn't. He just grabs his plate that he didn't really eat from and carries it to the sink. "Everything is just so damn fluffy. You just walked in here and filled it with your pillows and clothes and shoes. How many shoes does one person need and why do we have Cosmopolitan on the coffee table?"
"I'm sorry my stuff is here." I ignore the nausea I feel, because of the anxiety that is forming. I'm torn between how angry and hurt I feel. I turn around to face him and it's pretty clear that I am about to cry. I hate this. I don't want to, so I just take a deep breath. "Let's just throw out all of the fluffiness."
"Okay, Donna." He rolls his eyes, walking back to the entryway of the kitchen. "I just don't know how much of it I want."
"Okay, well I don't know if I want to have a baby if I don't know when my baby's father is going to come home next." I choke, tears falling from my eyes at the road of anger and sadness. It was harsh, but he's being harsh too. I want to see it bother him if he's going to be cruel. I suddenly feel like I refuse to be the only one taken down in this house tonight. "So I guess we both have problems."
"Then let's not have a baby." Josh snaps, throwing his consumed beer in the trash so casually. "This isn't working. You and I aren't working. You're living here…it's not working."
"Fine! We don't have to have a baby right now! Thank god nothing happened when we had sex without the condoms, because that would have been a real inconvenience." I shout, throwing the remaining chicken into the trash. My Midwestern mother would cringe at the throwing out of perfectly good food, but it's in my way. "However, I thought this was our home. You asked me to move in the day we got back from Miami, but if I had known I was a guest I would have discontinued all the sex and stopped with all of the house work."
"Donna…" He mutters, the most quiet he's been since he began yelling at me. I use the term paying bills loosely. He actually refuses to let me pay for anything except the cable and internet. That's just because I switched his service provider after moving in to increase the speed. I'm definitely crying now and I feel my breathing increase. His face is serious, but slightly more emotional looking than before. "We can't get married."
"What?" I breathe as the tears slip out. Not sure if they're from anger or hurt now.
"I want to break up." Josh says coldly, looking surprised as he says it. "We can't get married."
"What?" I repeat quietly and I put a hand on my chest. It feels like a boulder was dropped on me and I wish I could push it off of me. I try to replay the conversation, figuring out where it really went wrong. "Because of the throw pillows or…I called too many times."
"We can't get married." He repeats as our eyes meet and something in him tells me in this exact moment, his mind is made up. I feel like someone just put a wall between us and told us to run head first to see who falls first. "This isn't going to work."
I started to believe him. I don't know why I would rather die than continue this moment. I don't want to beg him to love me. I feel like in some weird way I did it for years. Following him around, anticipating his every move. I would die for this man and now he's breaking up with me. I want to marry this man or I did. I did want to marry him. I love Joshua Lyman. This man doesn't feel like 'my' Josh. Or maybe he does. It is him. It's Josh who is shielding himself from something and has clearly made some sort of choice. Still, if he just comes out of this anger and apologizes or takes it back or even just holds me, I would still love him. I'd still be all in for this man. "Josh?"
"Donna…we can't." He whispers and I look at him with confusion.
"I know." I whisper, but I don't. I don't know. I don't know how we've been in this balloon of bliss and then it just popped. Gone. Deflated. Last night, our phone call was full of anticipation. Of him on the verge of sleep, but not wanting to hang up. Of him trying to talk dirty, but then we both laughed because we were so tired. I told him I loved him and that I would be waiting at home. He was going to rush and then he insisted I wouldn't be wearing clothes the rest of the night. Yet now I am in his home. In his kitchen. Fully clothed and crying. The rage taps my shoulder and I walk up to him, ready to raise my hand and slap him, but I chicken out. I don't condone getting physical, but I want him to snap out of this. It's like we're standing
And it took you five whole minutes
To pack us up and leave me with it