If you guessed what was revealed in the last chapter from all the clues I've sprinkled in since Amy's departure... congratulations! It's out in the open now. Ricky knows... but how will he react?
Get ready, this chapter is one of my favorites! It was a total wave of emotions to write, so I hope you enjoy it.
Also, it's been 11 years since our beloved (sometimes hated) show aired the still terrible series finale. I celebrated this moment by watching Ricky's graduation/Ramys proposal and then writing the current chapter I'm working on. Stay tuned, we've still got some good stuff to go through together. ;)
There it was. The truth; spurting out in hiccups of saliva from a tongue begging to push it back. The burden of her secret crashing down as she crumbled to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, screeching between harsh breaths, "I'm sorryyyyy!"
His mouth was agape, unbelieving of the words that fell from her lips - a miscarriage? A dead child? What? But having no time to dwell, he acted; kneeling beside her and wrapping his arms around her shaking body, he swallowed the cry buried in his throat, "Shhh..."
She shook her head repeatedly, gasping for breath between hard sobs, "I'm sorry - I wanted to t-tell y-you, I just -"
His eyes met hers, tears starting to gather in them, "Just what? When - when did this happen?"
Gulping, Amy put her hand on his arm as it shook, her voice barely above a whisper, "... In New York..."
Ricky's chest constricted, "W-what -" face falling ashen as he loosened his grip on her, "You - you knew you were pregnant with MY baby when you left for New York and didn't tell me?"
"No! I didn't know I was pregnant when I left I -"
He rose quickly, taking several steps back, his left hand on his face, "But you knew you'd lost our child while you were in New York, right?" She nodded slowly. His breathing increased, now becoming angry, pointing at her, "You knew... you knew my - our - child was dead and didn't have the decency to tell me!"
"Ricky, I -" She pleaded, grabbing for his wrist but catching nothing but air, her lip wobbling, "I swear I -"
Taking a few more steps back until his back was against the door, "No... no... please." It was getting harder to breathe, his lungs feeling like a balloon being pricked by a needle. He couldn't even look at her; couldn't even bare to see her eyes or see the tears cascading down her cheeks. He needed away from her, before his anger overtook him and he punched a hole in the wall.
"Ricky! Ricky please don't walk out - you do it all the time!" She choked, sniffling against her knees, raising her head just enough to see the rage in his eyes.
"That's because it stops me from saying things you don't want to hear!" He boomed, tugging on his curls, "I - I need some air. I just - I can't even stand to look at you right now, Amy." His words were harsh, venomous, "I've taken a lot of hits because of your selfishness... but this -" He swallowed, his voice cracking, "This is by far the worst. I don't - I don't think this can be forgiven..." And with that he grabbed the door and yanked it open, slamming it shut behind him and sprinting towards the stairwell.
Still on the floor, Amy hung her head and continued to sob into her hands; the soft cries floating from the bedroom chorusing her own and willing her to get up.
Padding slowly into the bedroom, she swiped her cheeks with the back of her palm, nestling beside them on the mattress. Rubbing her fist to her eye, Emma sat up quickly, fussy whimpers trying to break through her pacifier plugged lips. Amy slid her hand across her back, "Shhh, it's okay Peanut." Craning her neck to kiss her little fingers, "Mommy's here..." and then again, "Mommy's always gonna be here." Another kiss, stroking the top of the infant's hand.
Six potholes.
Five stop signs
Four pedestrians at a crosswalk, about to cross the street
Three children hopping out of a minivan door in a crowded parking lot
Two adults holding hands on a sidewalk
And then one heartbroken man trying to breathe through a crater sitting on his chest; drowning under the sinking despair swallowing and trapping him under it.
The car was speeding fast down unknown roads, taking curves and side streets just to get as far away from everything as possible.
No destination
No road map
Not even a thought of what would happen once the car stopped.
Just nothing.
The hum of the engine as it glided down
bumpy gravel was a bit of a comfort; a nice distraction from the screams bouncing around in his head.
Her screams.
"I - I h-had a - a miscarriage..." She sobbed to him, trying desperately to cover her face with shaking hands before the wind got knocked out of her and she crumbled to the ground in a heap of tears.
It was like someone plunged a knife into his gut. Those words mixed with her sobs. And the only thing he could do in that moment, as she fell apart before him, was swallow because none of it made sense. How did she have a miscarriage? When did she have a miscarriage? How long did she know? How long was she hiding it? So many thoughts were swirling and taunting, it made him feel dizzy and nauseous.
He watched the tears cascade down her cheeks and immediately knelt beside her, taking her shaking body into his arms. It was all he could offer her as he tried to put pieces of unknowns together. He knew only three things - One, Amy suffered a miscarriage sometime after Emma was born. Two, Amy never said anything about said miscarriage. And Three, it was killing her to tell him now... But why? She continued to screech, her breath coming out in sharp gasps he feared would strangle her if she didn't slow down as the truth fell from her mouth and sent him into an absolute tailspin.
And now - Now he was here. Foot on the pedal, hands on the wheel, trying to escape the only way he knew how - to run away.
Run away from her.
Run away from the revelation he'd been told
Run away from having to deal with the emotions bubbling so harshly, he feared he would lose control and explode if they were to be unleashed.
Tears stung Ricky's vision, making white lines of the pavement under the car appear distorted and blurred. He had to slow down and rein himself in before he ended up crashing the car.
He forced himself to stop, and pulled over to some unknown stretch of gravel road lit up by a sign that advertised half price slot machines.
He sat there and he wept. Openly, and without restraint. Bellowing cries of heartbreak as memories flooded his fragile mind.
"You sure you don't wanna hold him?" She asked again, cradling their baby boy to her chest, and placing a delicate kiss on his small head. She was radiating; beaming with love for him after only knowing him for less than a day. Ricky was too. Inside that is. On the outside though, he was utterly terrified.
Terrified that he would do something wrong and she would snatch the baby back and never let him see him again.
Terrified that he would let that little boy down, and be the screw up that everyone said he would always be.
But the worst one was... he was absolutely petrified that his past would come back to haunt them; ruin his son like he was ruined as a child - and inevitably break her heart again, leaving nothing but shattered pieces behind this time.
She was holding their bundle out again, urging him with her eyes to accept the baby; his baby. The baby who shared his eyes and nose, and his left dimple, while he had her ears and the light pink blush of her cheeks. That little boy was perfect. Blinking a few times, Ricky swallowed roughly, "I uh - You want me to?"
Amy gave him a soft smile accompanied by a small nod, swiping her thumb over their baby's head repeatedly, "He's your son too..."
A tear fell from his lashes; a tiny little prick in his heart as he shyly smiled back and very slowly put his hands out, accepting the infant who felt like a feather. "Hey... hey buddy..." Ricky whispered softly, cradling his tiny body in the crook of his left arm. The baby made a few little grunting noises before settling, and grasping his finger in his tiny palm. His eyes lifted to hers, gratitude and admiration swimming in their light pool of brown. A tear fell from her cheek and landed on her gown, expelling a deep exhale from her chest as he began to sway slowly back and forth.
Blink
"9...10... good girl, I can see the head. Few more to go. Ready. Breathe." Dr. Owen's instructed with a roughness in his voice holding the sheet higher.
From his position, Ricky could easily lean to his right and watch - but did he want to? A part of him didn't want to look, for fear he might pass out seeing her in such a painful position, but the other part of him wanted to see; wanted to watch the woman he loved bring life into the world, and marvel at her body for doing it.
Amy pushed and pushed until she begged him not to make her anymore. Her lip was wobbling, and all he wanted to do in that moment was kiss her and tell her it was over, she did it. But he couldn't. And from the uneasy looks on everyone's faces, Amy's hesitation was costing valuable time for their child.
He kissed her head and let her grip practically break his hand as she screamed so violently, he feared she was actually dying.
"Almost there!" He shouted above the screaming, holding her leg back as she braced for one more push. So at that moment, he peaked, and when he did, his heart leapt seeing a small tuft of brown hair before a head emerged, followed by shoulders and a strangled cry that broke it.
"It's a...girl!" They held her up, her little arms and legs jerking as she struggled to greet everyone.
She was too early, and too small to have come into the world so soon. The doctors knew that because the looks on their faces said what they couldn't - this baby needed immediate attention. So he swallowed back the painful lump in his throat at hearing the whispers of the nurses as they gave him a sympathic look before dropping their gazes to the infant being carted away.
Blink
"Hi, John... Daddy's here. I love you." Ricky whispered softly, twitching his lip up a fraction. Amy was sleeping, and he didn't want to wake her - but he had to see him - His little baby boy, John... Had to hold him without the eyes of everyone watching them. Her mom had let him in, stating to him that she needed her rest, but upon his insistence that he would be as quiet as a mouse, she agreed and led him to the room.
Seeing John in the hospital felt like a hundred years ago - even though it had only been a day - it felt longer; like his heart couldn't beat correctly without seeing him. It was a feeling unlike anything he had ever felt before - and when he held him in his arms, there was a peace that came over him. "John..." He smiled at his son's little lip pucker in his sleep, tracing the outline of his nose with the tip of his index finger before leaning down to kiss it, glancing over at her snoring body curled into the covers, with another new feeling - love.
Blink
"We have to be super quiet, okay? The babies are all sleeping..." Maxine whispered, fitting a mask securely around his thin face. John nodded hesitantly, slightly frightened by all the touching he was receiving as he looked over to his mom who knelt beside him, holding his hand.
It had been 3 days since their daughter had started to breathe on her own, and because of this, Maxine, Ally and Blake thought it might be beneficial to John to be able to see his little sister. So they set in all up: they got him dressed in the proper yellow material, washed his hands thoroughly, and masked his face. They had 10 minutes to introduce him to her; 10 minutes to bond.
His footsteps were slow, careful to abide by the warning not to wake the babies. Ricky stood over the incubator, kneeling to his son's level when he got close enough to touch the slots. He saw it in his sons eyes - the questions and the fear surrounding the wires and the tubes. Resting his hand on his back, he spoke softly, "This is your little sister, John."
Excitement took over, John's small arms immediately shooting forward, causing him to have to grab them before he hit the casing. The action caused his lip to pucker sadly, his eyes being shielded by the top of the mask, "Me want h-er..."
Taking his hands, Amy shook her head gently, "Not yet, baby. Not until she's stronger." Putting her hand out, she placed it up to the slot, keeping her voice low, "But you can touch her hand - see?" Sliding her hand in slowly and brushing her thumb against her incredibly tiny hand.
John's eyes followed her movements, positioning his own hand to align with the incubator before inching his palm close enough to hit a wire and touch her finger. His hand touching the wire caused it to tug, and for her to twitch, curling her fist around the tip of his index finger. John beamed under the mask. They knew this because he gasped and what they could see of his eyes, brightened.
They smiled at each other, before Ricky leaned over and kissed the top of his head "Good job, buddy."
Blink
Slipping quietly into the darkened room, he was quick to reach his destination. "I don't have much time before the next nurse switch... but I had to see you..." Ricky whispered softly, sliding his hand into the slot, "I'm so proud of you for letting that medicine help your lungs get better, princess. You made mommy and I so happy..." A tear fell from his eye, hitting his arm as he exhaled, "Now I just need you to open those pretty little eyes of yours, baby girl." He swallowed roughly, gliding his thumb in slow circles across her hand, "Because I bet... they're just as beautiful as your mommy's."
He slammed the back of his head on the seat, once. Hard. His eyes squeezing shut as the images of little brown haired girls with big beautiful brown eyes, little blonde boys with piercing green eyes, baby blankets, toys, and those socks with the animal prints on the feet that he'd taken on and off his own children a hundred times, swirled like a tornado in his mind before being torn away and turning to ash before him; the world slapping him in the face again with its damn cruelty.
The phone inside the cup holder buzzed obnoxiously, the caramel blondes name flashing on the screen causing him to swallow roughly. Mentally, Ricky saw himself answering the call, taking off as fast as he could go, and taking her on his bed; his old ways snaking back in as he pounded into her until all the pain and devastation consumed him and buried him forever. No strings. No emotional aspects. No tear-filled eyes asking why. Just sex. An escape. A coping mechanism.
But he knew better.
One night with Clementine wouldn't fix him. Or fix this situation. It would only make it worse. He'd feel like crap for using her, and she'd expect something from him that he could not give her. All the while Amy would be left with the aftermath of his destruction to both their lives, and their children's. Not to mention it could very well derail all the progress she had been making so far. This was already hard on her. Imaging what she would say - the look on her face - if she found out what he did to cope... it would destroy her.
Ricky shook his head at himself, unbelieving at his own thoughts betraying him and making him actually care about what Amy felt, after what she did. It was ridiculous. She lied to him, about everything, for several months... she deserved his reaction; deserved his anger, hurt, and betrayal... didn't she?
The radio beeped a few times, something about an emergency test or whatnot, before a familiar beat found its way to his ears. At first it was soft, the hum of the still running engine drowning it out, but as the song progressed the lyrics came out clearer.
Their song.
On instinct, his hand went to shut it off and erase it from his mind. But as he did, it was like an invisible bolt of lightening rocketed through his body and sent him somewhere he didn't want to be. Didn't want to witness.
A nurse stood beside him, her face holding a sadness under the thin layer of makeup she was wearing. She had blood on her scrubs and gloves, and her eyes held sympathy in them. It was dark inside the space, but he could make out another person in the room just enough to make his breath catch in his throat.
A machine beeped a few times before being shut off, and the sound of Amy's heartbroken sobs filled the air. When the lights came back on, he nearly fell to his knees. There she was, her hands covered in splotches of red blood as they clawed at her gown; each scream bouncing off the wall at the darkened screen, feeling like a piece of his spine breaking from his body.
Their child was dead.
Break
She was just told
Break
She didn't know
Break
She was alone.
She was alone, and screaming, and dying...
Break
Break
Break
It was too much. It was agony. Seeing her like that.
Another hard blow with the back of his head to the seat, sent his vision back to reality; hands shaking before pressing them to the back of his mouth and feeling his body breaking apart within him; not knowing how to extricate himself from this heartbreak so fierce he literally felt like his heart was splitting apart from the inside - each piece splintering off like black broken glass, shattering on his lap.
Ricky thought he'd know this feeling before - the feeling of heartbreak - whenever he was told his daughter might not make it. Whenever Amy was dying after giving birth to her. Whenever Amy left him, heck even after he'd come to grips with Amy's decisions to keep breaking him. But that was child's play. Those feelings were mere cracks compared to this. This was pure, unadulterated torture - knowing, or rather not knowing, he had another child he never got to even meet because they had died inside her... It was suffering beyond anything he'd ever experienced before. Even the beatings of his father were more merciful than this. At least those were over quickly and the evidence would fade over time. This was uncharted territory; a wound forever etched inside his heart - or whatever was left of it. A pain so fierce, there was no where to bury it.
It burned like hot lava through every cell in his body; lighting his insides on fire.
He wanted to vomit; wanted to pound a wall until his hand broke or the wall disintegrated; wanted to rip his beating heart from his chest, throw it to the ground and stomp it to dust; falling to his knees and watching her crumble beside his lifeless body as punishment for doing this to him, and to make her feel the pain jackknifing through him breaking every bone, and crushing his lungs.
The blood was rushing to his head, making him feel hot and dizzy; struggling to breathe as the wave of terror pierced through again with another flash of her - Her screams filling his ears to the point of rupture; begging through silent sobs and heaving breaths to be free.
The panic attacks weren't new. But this didn't just feel like another panic attack - this felt like he was truly dying. Like someone was holding him down while the air was being sucked from his lungs.
Speechless. Numb in his bones. Feeling nothing but immense, impossible pressure breaking his body apart. Each tear falling from his eyes heavier than the last.
Gripping the steering wheel so hard he felt his hands throb, Ricky let the wave crash over him, again and again and again until his eyes burned, his throat was raw, and his hands shook uncontrollably from repeatedly assaulting the seat next to him with fists of fury; their red tint no doubt going to showcase some dark purple bruises come tomorrow.
You're sure the fetus is deceased?" A red haired doctor asked the nurse, his voice low but still loud enough for her to hear.
The nurse dressed in pink scrubs nodded, "Yes Sir, we did it twice - no fetal heartbeat was located. Likely been that way for at least a few days." She was the same nurse who touched her shoulder and asked if she needed to call someone. Her eyes still held the same sympathetic look in them; the corners on her lids slightly red.
The red head nodded, tapping a pen to his hand, "But it's still visible on the ultrasound?"
Another nod, before she put her hand to her mouth, "Ms. Juergens seems to be in shock - we're quite certain she had no knowledge of the pregnancy, nor the severity of the loss."
She was right, Amy didn't know. Didn't even suspect anything of the sort. How could she have been pregnant and not known? What kind of mother doesn't know she's carrying a child until it's too late? She was numb, unmoving. A nurse put a blanket over her, but she couldn't even move her lips to give a smile. It was as if she was pulled from her body and being forced to oversee everything from above herself.
"Ah - and according to this, this isn't her first pregnancy either. Which likely made it more difficult to detect until it was too late..." He looked down at the folder in his hands, "Unfortunately, given the severity of the situation, a D is necessary to remove the deceased fetus - before it causes more damage." Pursing his lips, a finger pressed against them, he nodded again, "Book the OR, I'll be there in 20 minutes."
"On it. I'll get the paperwork." The lady rushed away quickly, disappearing behind a pale blue wall.
Amy felt the bed shift, "Ms. Juergens?" He spoke quietly, nudging her shoulder gently, "Ms. Juergens, I'm Dr. Halstead - do you know where you are right now?" Silence. "Ms. Juergens - I just need a nod or a thumbs up, okay?" Barely exerting any energy because it was just too hard to move, she swallowed roughly and twitched her hand just enough to lift her thumb off the sheet. He nodded, the response being good enough for him and continued, "Okay, good... you're aware of the situation then? You've experienced an ectopic pregnancy resulting in a miscarriage - about 12 weeks along. We need to remove the dead tissue before it travels to your bloodstream..." Dr. Halstead was now holding a clipboard, jotting down something with his pen, "It's a small procedure called a D ... do you understand, Ms. Juergens?"
Did she understand? Understand what? Understand that the pain radiated sharply inside her pelvis, while a trail of blood ran, and stuck sickly to her pale skin? Or that a slew of nurses and doctors poked and prodded her numb body as she shut down because hearing the truth was too painful?
No she didn't understand. She would never understand.
Never understand why her body had unknowingly disposed of a child she had no knowledge of, and now it was killing her.
She did understand one thing though, and it was that this was her punishment for leaving her family. But not his. He didn't deserve to have his unborn child ripped away from him like this, and the guilt she carried for it was threatening to swallow her whole.
Amy's body jolted when a hand touched her back, the same nurse offering her a soft smile, while holding out a clipboard. Dr. Halstead squeezed her shoulder, "Fill out these and Cheryl here will bring you up shortly, okay?"
"This isn't on you, understand? It wasn't your fault... and if I would have known he would act like this, I never would have agreed to him coming here. I would have drove John here myself!" He raged through clenched teeth, trying to keep his voice from booming and waking the sleeping children in the room.
"No -" She snapped back, shaking her head, "No, dad - This is on me. He needed to know. He deserved that much..." Putting her hand on the back of Emma's head, she sighed, "I kept this from him thinking I was protecting him..." Sniffling, "Ricky's right, dad... I am selfish..."
"What are you talking about? Of course you're not -"
"Think about it!" Amy's rise in tone made the baby jolt with a startle, releasing a whine. Closing her eyes, she bit her lip, "I kept John because I couldn't bare to place him with strangers who could've given him a better life. I kept Emma - against the doctors insistence - and risked both our lives, because I wanted to prove to everyone that I was strong enough to overcome the complications..." Another sniffle as she started to pace, "I buried my trauma to protect myself... and I left my family to pursue a dream I thought I wanted." Pausing she scrunched her daughter's curls between her fingers and fought the crack in her voice, "And in doing so, I lost a child and chose to keep it a secret; I chose to make the selfish decision to lock it away, instead of allowing the father to know and be able to grieve..." Pursing her lips inward, the tears rolled down them, "I'm a monster..." hand beginning to shake as she glided it across Emma's back, "... and if I were him, I'd never be able to forgive me either..."
Watching his daughter destroy herself in front of him, made George want to break, "You're not a monster, Amy. You know you're not."
Pulling the covers over his small frame, he closed the book and slid off the mattress. It had taken four stories to knock him out, but the deep snores escaping his chest, was a good sign that he was down for the night, and his focus would be on their other sleep deprived child.
Rounding the corner, he noticed how dark the apartment had become - the only light being the one lamp on his side of the bed, illuminating them just enough to catch a glimpse. She was sitting on the sofa, one hand tucked under their baby's tiny body, while the other traced the outline of her nose with her finger, a tired, happy smile making its way on her lips as their daughter nursed against her chest.
Ricky sighed, knowing Amy was having a difficult time with all of it. They had been weaning Emma off of breastmilk ever since they found out about Amy's milk imbalances. Thankfully, they found the right bottle and the formula they were giving her, she was tolerating very well for the most part - only spitting up if she overate, or sucked it down too hard - so they focused on using it rather than tediously pumping into bottles and then topping off with the formula anyway.
At first it was a good solution that everyone was happy with - freeing up Amy for other things without being tethered to a fussy, hungry baby all the time - but after the first couple of weeks, he could tell it was starting to make her question things.
It was no secret she didn't enjoy breastfeeding - she had told him to his face she hated it - but he also knew there were other aspects of it she wasn't ready to let go of yet: mainly the bonding. Because ever since the hospital where they were barred from touching their daughter beyond holding her hand, or stroking her skin inside the incubator, Amy never got to truly bond with Emma. For almost 2 months, she couldn't hold her, or feed her, or cradle her to sleep. Neither could he, and some nights it about killed him, but he had John to attend to - and Amy didn't even have that. She was alone most nights unless she snuck into the NICU to watch Emma sleep.
Amy's sigh broke him of his thoughts, her soft hums being interrupted by a quiet sob passing her lips. He walked over to the sofa, descending slowly onto the cushion and placing a soft kiss on her head, "You okay?"
Through a sniffle, she nodded, playing with their baby's fingers. "She's so cute when she sleeps" kissing them, "I don't know if I'm ready for it to be over..."
Pecking her shoulder, Ricky looked into her tear filled eyes and nodded, "I know, but it's what is best - isn't it?" Swiping his thumb across her cheek, "You can still do this, Amy. Just because you're not breastfeeding her anymore, doesn't mean you'll lose that bond with her, okay? You can have these quiet moments between the two of you regardless. She loves you." His lip tipped up into a smirk, "And besides that, she'll be less cranky - which is a win for us all."
With a sad chuckle, she nodded, and wiped a tear away from her eye, "Yeh, that's nice..." Picking up Emma's arm delicately, "I'll just miss this -" and letting it drop back down, "look how peaceful she is when she's milk drunk."
"It's probably the only time she's as still as a statue" He agreed, repeating the action with a chuckle and staring at her with admiration, before kissing her head again, "I love you, you know that, right?"
She nodded and turned her head to face him, giving his lips a soft kiss, "I love you too."
A rough clearing of the throat snapped him back to reality, not prepared to see two pairs of eyes staring at him. Hers were sad, making him swallow roughly, "... Can we talk - please?"
George's however, were angry, turning on his heel and clenching his jaw, "Not until you and I have a little chat." Putting his hand on his chest to prevent him from stepping forward, and closing the door behind them.
Ricky rolled his eyes, frustrated, scoffing, "Of course you're here, why does that not shock me?"
George shook his head at his scoff, "Amy called me after you left -"
"Did you know?" He interrupted harshly, his jaw starting to clench at the anger sneaking in, furrowing his brow, "All this time pretending to understand what I was going through - all the while harboring this life altering secret from me? Huh?"
Lifting his eyes to the ceiling, George exhaled through his nose, pursing his lips, "First - lower your voice before someone launches a noise complaint." Another exhale, lowering his head, "Second - No. No I didn't know. I found out tonight - just like you. She didn't tell anyone..." His voice got quieter, fighting the emotion welling in his throat, "Which brings me to three - tread lightly... before you cross a line you don't want to cross"
"I've crossed a line?" Ricky balked louder than he wanted to, tears spilling from his eyes, "My child is dead, George!" Taking quick breaths to combat the despair raging through him, "All this time... I - I could have-"
He took a step forward, "You could have what?"
The teen shook his head slowly, hand covering his face, "I don't know exactly, but I could have been doing something!" A few hard sniffles, sent his gaze to the floor, voice cracking, "I was never even told about it! Do you know how much that kills me? To know now that I didn't even have an opportunity to say goodbye? Or to mourn -"
Wiping his own cheeks, George put his hand on his shoulder, "Listen to me - there was nothing you, or I, or Amy could have done to prevent it. Nothing to be done, could have been. It was over from the start." Ricky knocked his hand off of him, his shoulders tensing as his hands clenched. Sensing the rage he was feeling, and begging to release, George pinned his back against the wall and shoved his finger in his face, angrily declaring, "You don't get to stand here and attack everyone - because guess what? You're not the only one who lost something, alright? I've just been told my grandchild is dead, Ricky - you don't think I want to scream too? I do! I want to rip someone apart for causing my daughter this kind of pain! But I can't because what's done is done." He swallowed, looking away from him for a second before meeting his eyes again, a warning flashing in them, "But Amy... Amy is still baring this burden, and I'll be damned if I let you come in here and destroy all her progress because you're upset and hurt! She only hid the truth because she was trying to protect you... because she knew it would destroy you!" Taking a step backwards, he put his hands on his hips, "She did it for you, Ricky." He swallowed this time, letting a tear fall from his jaw. "So the least you could do, is understand her pain and see it through her eyes. Be there for her..." Ricky nodded slowly, eyes lowering in shame and guilt when he heard her quiet steps down the hallway.
"You wanna help me put her down?" She asked him, looking between the two stubborn men in her life and swaying slowly with their baby pressed into her chest. Without a word, he nodded again and removed himself from the wall.
George grabbed his arm before he could pass him, a roughness in his voice, "Don't make me regret leaving - got it?"
"Dad..." She sighed, giving her father a furrowed brow.
Letting go, he relented and huffed, pecking her on the cheek, "You know where to find me."
Amy nodded, "Goodnight." Waiting until the door closed before turning to him, "I didn't think you'd be back tonight..." Ricky's silence at her statement only made the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes come faster, as she followed him into her bedroom. Once inside she tried again, toying with the small dark curls on the back of Emma's head - the same ones he had, "Listen Ricky I -"
Turning on his boot heel, Ricky put a finger to his lips and shook his head, keeping his eyes on the boy snoozing peacefully like a starfish three feet away, "Not in here." Nodding, she stepped past him, and laid the baby in the crib, taking a few seconds to just stare at her, before she felt his body heat against her back as he leaned forward to give their baby a kiss on the forehead, and a small chuckle rattled from his chest, "... Is that me?" Referring to the picture taped to the bars of their daughter's crib: a picture of him and John on the floor of the apartment in what looked to be a wrestling match.
Embarrassment flooded her cheeks drawing them up and squinting, "Yeh... I uh - I taped it to her crib when she wouldn't go to sleep that first week. It beat holding the phone up to her head until she passed out, and it seems to be working so..."
He chuckled again, fiddling with it, "I'm flattered. That's a good picture." Before she could counter, he turned and walked towards the door, but paused so she could go ahead of him. Taking one long breath, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you like that." He finally spoke once they reached the Livingroom, a hand going through his hair, stumbling for the right words to say. After a few seconds, she lowered her eyes to him, staring at his face but avoiding his eyes, "Amy, please - please don't shut me out again... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad for this -"
"You're allowed to be upset too," She responded quietly, the hurt evident in her voice, "I didn't expect you not to be - but I - I hate the way you reacted! I know you're hurting, and I'm sorry - but you leaving like that - hurts..." Taking a sharp breath, "Like you're blaming me for this. Like I masterminded losing our child in order to push you away or punish you -"
"I don't think that!" He interrupted quickly, reaching for her hand.
She recoiled just as fast, "Then what are you thinking? Please tell me - I need to hear you get it off your chest -"
Closing his eyes, Ricky pursed his lips inward and let the truth roll off his tongue, "I'm hurt, Amy!" A tear slid down his jaw, "I'm angry and I feel betrayed! But I don't blame you for what happened -"
Another sharp intake of breath "Why not? Why aren't you furious at me?"
His eyes widened, startled by her question, "What?"
Amy's face was placid, but the tears brimmed in her eyes, anger making her voice crack, "Why aren't you telling me how awful I am - and that it's all my fault? That my body is so broken it dispelled of a baby I didn't even know existed until it was too late?" Her face contorted with so much pain and agony, "That it's all my fault because I left our other children - and this was my punishment!" It was hard for him not to want to wrap her up in his embrace, but he stayed still, knowing she needed this for herself - but it was killing him having to hear. She shook with violent sobs, hair falling into her face, "W-why d-don - don't y-you h-h-hate m-me as m-mu- much as I- I d-dooo?"
Going against his own thoughts from seconds ago, he wrapped his arms around her, tight, letting her release all her pent up resentment into his chest, swallowing the lump lodged in his throat, "Because as angry as I am... as much as I want to scream and scorch the ground under my feet, it won't help! It won't bring our baby back! It won't rewrite what happened..." He closed his eyes, loosening his grip and lowering his voice, "It won't heal us, Amy..."
Blowing a breath from his cheeks, he took a seat on the couch and let his head fall into his hands - eyes watering from the strain of shock his body seemed to be trapped in. Devastation tore Amy apart, before him, the tears sliding down her red cheeks while she tried to compose herself. She wanted him to hate her; begged for him to. So why couldn't he? After everything she had done, everything she had put him through - why couldn't he dish all the pain and resentment sneaking in, and feeding the ache in his chest - back to her? Make her feel every ounce of the drowning he was feeling and trying to break free from?
Because her crying violently in front of him, voided his pain.
His feelings might be a jumbled mess... but they're nothing compared to hers - and allowing herself to hate herself for this - he couldn't do. No matter what. She didn't create that life by herself, but she had to go through the loss of it, alone. And she was beating herself up enough for it. She didn't need him to drive the knife deeper. The universe had already stolen so much from them; part of her existence, once, by almost dying bringing their baby girl into the world... and leading her to that facility...
A muffled sob escaped Ricky's throat - the couch dipping beside him. He couldn't look - not wanting her to see the pain in his eyes under the thick tears gathering in them.
Her hand covered the back of his neck, dipping her forehead against his shoulder and placing a soft kiss there. "I'm sorry," Amy whispered, "I didn't want to hurt you. I swear I - I never meant -" Hand shaking, "I didn't want to cause you this kind of pain... not when you were carrying so much of it from me already-"
"I know" He stopped her, lifting his head a fraction, and shifting his hand to her knee. "How did it happen?" The question lingered in the air for several seconds, and he could tell by the way her breathing stilled and her hands moved to cup her arms that she didn't want to go back to it. But he needed her to. He needed that closure, to know what exactly happened to both her, and his unborn, deceased child. "I know this is hard on you... but I need -" a rough swallow, "I need to know, Amy. I deserve to know what happened to my - our... baby..."
With a slow nod, she lowered her eyes, "I didn't know I was pregnant. I wasn't experiencing any symptoms, or showing any signs... it had been weeks since we had unprotected sex... I didn't think -" She inhaled, "I didn't think that my body could conceive that quickly after Emma, given all the complications... but I was wrong..." Voice lowering, "I was so so wrong..."
Silencing the device buzzing on the nightstand, she inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to combat the intense pain radiating in her pelvic region and into her back. The Tylenol she'd just taken, not yet kicking in enough to dull it. Rolling over to her side, she felt the shift and took a sharp breath at the feeling stabbing through her like a knife before quickly cupping her hand against her mouth and running to the bathroom. Expelling the contents of her stomach into the sink, the tears brimmed in her eyes while her lower half felt slightly wet.
Ever since having Emma, her bladder control was next to nonexistent, and sometimes the slightest sneeze would almost cause her to pee her pants if she wasn't close to a bathroom. It was utterly embarrassing. Closing her eyes, she sighed in embarrassment at potentially peeing herself while vomiting, and took a shaky seat on the toilet - Unprepared to see the dark, thick, trail of blood plastered against her inner thighs.
Another inhale, "When it happened I had been feeling a little off - but I just thought maybe my period was coming back after stopping breastfeeding..." She paused, closing her eyes, "But - but when I saw all the blood - I - I knew something was wrong..." lips pursing inward as the tears fell from her eyes, "The pain coupled with the blood... it wasn't normal. Something was seriously wrong. So I went to the hospital, and they ran tests..."
"Just ly back, dear, this won't hurt a bit" A nurse said sweetly, swiping the cloth over her abdomen quickly before the screen booted up and the wand moved about. The gray and black all too familiar to her, but the tiny bean like shape floating... made her breath catch in her throat. No...
The nurse furrowed her brow slightly, and moved the wand around a few more times, increasing the pressure against her skin each time.
Something was wrong. Why wasn't the little bean moving? Why wasn't the screen jumping with those quick little flicks?
"I can't get a good read..."
No.
No, that can't be right.
Amy saw the image. She saw the little flicker, and the bean shaped being housed in her body. It was there. It was growing and - the sad reality of the truth crushed her like a boulder.
It wasn't moving. It wasn't thumping rapidly.
It was still; unmoving, and dark.
The room was cold, it's gray walls burning her eyes, as the blank screen mocked her.
It was like her breath had been stolen; snatched in the cruelest way as she fought through the wails wrenching their way from her throat. The nurse looked at her, a sadness in her eyes as she uttered the gut-wrenching words - "I'm sorry sweetheart, we can't find a heartbeat..."
The sweet lady in pink, who had blood on her scrubs and gloves - Amy's blood - looked over at her, placing a delicate hand on her gown. Not knowing how badly those words from her mouth, shattered her; the images of what could have been, ripping into her so hard it felt as though her heart was literally ripped from her chest; Left to die in a puddle of her own pain as she shut off the machine, and walked out of the room - like it was just another day. Not caring that she was dying slowly on that table. Not caring that she had to hold a secret so heart wrenching, that it was going to kill her. Having to tell him, was going to break her in ways she didn't know she could be broken.
Amy's hands started shaking again, trying to keep herself composed, "When they told me - it - it was g-gone - that there was n-n-no h-heartbeat... I -" but lost the battle as she fell apart. "There was so much blood... I couldn't, I -" Deep, guttural sobs passing her chapped lips, "I-I'm s-so-sorryyyy!"
Rushing back to the cabin, he ran his hands through his hair. He just slept with a virgin. He stole her virginity.
Guilt riddled through him, remembering the look of shock on her face, and the tears that stained her red cheeks, as he made his way into the bathroom to take a shower; her 15-year-old innocence, dissolved with the blood coating his lower half in a thin trail, making him gulp about what he had done.
Blood
Blood.
Blood.
So much blood that poured out of her like water, it coated everything within seconds.
His face fell ashen seeing the life escape her body and the sticky red substance coat the floor in puddles around the doctors feet.
"Did it suffer?" Ricky asked through a broken swallow, the tears rolling down his cheeks, sniffling, "Was it in any pain?"
Swiping her eyes, Amy shook her head slowly, "No. According to the doctor it was an ectopic pregnancy - the egg - the baby - was stuck in my fallopian tube, but the pregnancy wasn't viable, and disposed of it." A sniffle, "... 'over before it started', they said." Another sniffle, "... but there were still complications... and they - they had to perform a surgery that night to make sure I didn't go septic from the miscarriage still being inside me -" She started to cry again, "it was so painful, I couldn't - I mean I had to -"
"Surgery was successful. We were able to remove the toxic tissue from the deceased fetus with minimal damage to the fallopian tubes. However... there were some complications..." Dr. Halstead explained to the darkness.
Amy's eyes were heavy, struggling to open against the bag of bricks it felt like her body was trapped under. The room was dark, but she could hear the voices.
He spoke again with a slight sigh, "Ms. Juergens has significant scar tissue from a previous - recent - operation. I suspect when she had her previous child." A tap of a pen against something solid, "Because of that, her blood is having some issues clotting. Had it not been for the pressers, she might have bleed out on the table." It got silent for a beat, his breathing became louder in the quiet, "Does she really have nobody to contact?" There was a rustling next to him, followed by another small sigh, "Poor girl. She shouldn't have to do this alone, especially for her young age. Let me know when she wakes up, yeah?"
"You got it." Another voice sounded, this one more gentle - the nurse from before. The one - the one who broke the news. She stayed? Why?
She felt the bed move, but couldn't muster up enough strength to move her lips, or attempt to fight her heavy eyes. Her body was going through the wringer, and it demanded sleep. So she was going to obey, no matter how badly she wanted to flee into a hole and never emerge. At least if she was sleeping, or sedated, she wouldn't have to feel her heart splitting apart crack by tiny crack.
"They said there - there's a chance I-I might not be able to g-get preg-pregnant again..." Amy tried to squeak through her sobs, "B-because i-if I - if I d-did it might ha-happen a-aagin...", but collapsed against the back of the sofa, shaking her head, "I'm so sorry... please don't -" She gulped, "please don't h-hate m-m-me..."
"It was nobody's fault, dear... these things happen. And it's nobody's fault. You didn't do anything wrong, sweety, I promise." The sweet blonde nurse was trying to comfort her sobs since she had no one else there to do so. "Can I call someone for you, dear?" Her voice was gentle, along with the hand she had placed on her shoulder.
Shaking her head slowly, and silently, Amy's eyes fixated on the floor - gluing themselves to the one broken tile splintered with cracks across the room. She could hear the voices, and feel the touches, but nothing was registering. Everything felt weightless and sounded muffled. Except her heart that was so heavy she feared - and secretly hoped - that it would explode; take her out of this cloud of darkness, and into a bright, blue sky.
"Does the father know?" The voice echoed again, this time asking the question she hadn't even asked.
The father... Ricky...
With a quick gulp of air, fingers trembling, she looked at the vacancy of the rings on her hands. A nurse had taken them when she arrived and locked them away with the rest of her things until she was discharged. The same spell she'd become used to. Only this time it wasn't happy news. There was no silver lining in this. No decisions had to be made, no fights to be had, and no words to be said. Not that she could come up with any anyway, because every time she tried to speak, the words trapped themselves behind a broken and hiccupping sob.
Touching the spot where her wedding band made a small indention into her finger, the image of him standing behind the window as she loaded up the cab, came to mind; his sad and angry eyes haunted her with each breath she drew.
"H-h-he's n-not in-involved..." Amy finally spoke through a lie rolling off her tongue, hoping it would be enough for people to leave her alone.
With a sad nod, the nurse patted her shoulder again, and handed her a box of tissues, "Well if you think of someone to call, just let me know. You shouldn't have to go through this alone..."
If that nice woman only knew that the reason she was 'going through this alone' was because she chose it to be this way, her tone and the pity in her eyes would change. She wouldn't feel sorry for the poor teenage mother who left her family behind in California, while she chased her dreams in New York. Nobody would.
Which was why she wasn't going to tell anyone about what had happened. Not even Ricky. Even though their relationship was inevitably going to crash into the rocks and plummet, and he was going to probably hate her until he died... she couldn't allow him to feel like this. She couldn't allow him to know, and for his heart to be ripped from his chest like hers was.
This was her punishment. Her weight to bear. Not his. He had enough to tend with with taking care of John and Emma, and doing what she couldn't - being a parent. If she told him about this... it would destroy him, and destroy any chance of their children having a stable, peaceful, life.
Now he didn't know how to feel other than numb.
Numb to the possibility of this feeling happening to them again.
Numb to the notion of never having another baby with her, ever again.
And numb to the fact that just a few minutes ago she was begging for him to hate her because she hated herself, but after her explanation - now she was pleading for him not to?
Swiping his left eye with his thumb, Ricky glanced over quickly but returned his gaze to his hands, "I don't hate you, Amy. I can't hate you for this - I won't hate you for this because it isn't your fault." Moving his hand to find hers, he gave it a comforting squeeze.
None of it made sense, but it happened and she had to go at it alone. Her eyes were red around the lids, and puffy underneath, but there wasn't an ounce of hatred to be found in them as they welled with tears beside him. His heart thumped hard in his chest, watching her plead her case like she was on trial and about to be found guilty. He couldn't do this to her. Let her unravel alone. Not when she braced the world to bring two babies - his babies - their babies - into it, and despite their crumbling relationship, was even willing to bare another one of his children until life unfortunately had other plans. "That must have been difficult to go through alone. I wish you would have called me because you were never alone, Amy. I was always here. I would have been there for you however I could have been -" Taking a breath, he sighed, "But I understand now why you couldn't." Lifting his head, he wrapped his arms around her, "I'm here now though. You're not alone anymore."
Hearing those words caused something to break inside her, melting into his arms like they were her lifeboat, "I should have told you, I know. I know you would have found a way to be there for me. To comfort me. And I love you for that, but... it was the night before I was supposed to leave..." Trailing, her breath quickened and her grip got tighter, afraid he would push her away.
His eyes widened, finishing her sentence, "To come back home..." She nodded, pressing her face into his shirt to stifle the sob stuck in her throat. "So if you would have come back... it would have happened at the apartment?" His body stilled, gulping back the panic in his voice.
He was stewing in anger, pacing the floor with thudded boot steps as he tried to think of what he was going to say next. "Daddy!" He heard his son shout loudly from the bathroom. Too loudly.
Dropping his hands to his sides, he took off towards the bathroom and opened the door. Unprepared to see what was happening. "Oh my God... Amy!" He was panicking, trying to keep calm so he wouldn't scare the boy looking up at him with worry in his eyes.
"G-get... J-john..." She was sobbing, holding her belly with both hands.
Obeying, Ricky grabbed the towel off the rack and wasted no time wrapping John up, "Come on, buddy," and ushering him through the door. It was there that he saw the true fear in his sons face as he placed him on the floor and tried to keep his voice steady, "I need you to get ready by yourself like I was talking about earlier, okay? I need to help mommy, okay? Can you do this while I help mommy?" With a quick nod, John bolted into his bedroom.
Now came the hardest part. Walking back into the bathroom and seeing her like that. In agony. "I'm here, I'm here." Ricky knelt beside her, swallowing back the lump of sheer terror lodged like a baseball in his throat.
"Ricky..." Amy gripped his arm, sobbing into it. Something was wrong. He could feel it, and knew they had to get her out of there and to the hospital, quick.
"Shhh," he soothed, bracing his arms under her frame and lifting her off the floor and into the Livingroom, placing her gently on the bed and starting the inspection. Thankfully, she wasn't bleeding. There was no visible evidence that her condition was worsening - and for that he blew out a thankful breath. But the tears spilling from her eyes as she screamed out in pain, and the way she clutched their unborn child, told him she also knew something was wrong."
"That's why you stayed..." Ricky whispered against her ear.
Amy nodded again, swallowing, "I wasn't in a good place - I couldn't let our kids see me like that. It hurt seeing their pictures - their innocent and sweet faces brought me to my knees most nights, I - I couldn't destroy their lives too..." He heard the raw emotion in her voice and pushed back enough to look over at her, her hands lowering to his back, and her shaking body now lifting enough to slide onto his lap and press her forehead against his.
Placing a gentle kiss on her eyebrow, his lips twitched into a small smile as she caressed his face and stared deeply into her eyes; questions of unease and unknowns of what their futures held caused hers to fill with tears again. "I'm right here, Amy. I'm not going anywhere-" The only way he knew how to calm the storm brewing inside her chest, was to reassure her he wasn't the same cowardly boy that left her on the couch all those years ago.
So when she took a shaky breath, and lowered her gaze to his lips, he leaned in and closed the space; kissing her like he was nuclear and he needed to destroy her to save him; quinch the burn rising in his blood with the gentle caress of her tongue like water.
Fire and rain colliding into a frenzied cycle of yearning and lust.
Her hands moved down his chest, bunching up the fabric of the blue t-shirt he was wearing between her fingers. While his hands moved slower as a moan escaped their kiss.
Tongues tangled, they started grinding into each other; craving intimacy to ease the shared ache they were both feeling.
His hands went to her back, but feeling the smoothness of her shirt against her skin due to the vacancy of her bra, they slid lower down her body, stopping at the dip of her hip. She slid her hand over his, surprised by his hesitancy of sliding it inside her yoga pants, before helping him along by placing it on the waist band. Ricky's eyes flicking up to meet hers for confirmation, she nodded and crashed her lips against his again as his hand slid further south; his index finger swiping over the cotton of her underwear and feeling the moisture start to gather there, before slipping it inside.
Amy's hips bucked as his finger started stroking, and then rubbing back and forth. "Oh - Mhmm," Moaning and throwing her head back when he added another finger and increased the pace of his strokes before starting to pump in and out. Her eyes closing in bliss, "Yes! Faster!" Obeying, he watched with a glint in his eyes as she started to lose herself, and his other hand slid under her shirt; squeezing her left breast, pinching her nipple and swallowing her moan into his mouth when his thumb started moving in the sweetest of circles down below. "Uhnn!" Consumed so fast by the attentions toppling her, Amy moved her lips down his jaw, gyrating and pushing against both his rhythm and the hard bulge in his boxers beneath her; making throwing everything into her release as she rode his hand hard, and sank her teeth into his shoulder, with labored pants, that much more sexier to him.
Kissing her neck, Ricky continued to knead her breasts, swiping her nipples delicately with one thumb while the other thumb stayed on her pulsing center. "I want you." He breathed gruffly, growing harder beneath her trembling body.
Lifting her head off his shoulder, she met his eyes; fervor and need splashing in the puddle of brown that made her heart race when he looked at her like that. Like she was the only person in the world for him as they continued to grind against each other; tongues dueling for dominance, while her hands undid his belt buckle and the button of his jeans. Whipping her shirt off, "Condom?" She asked through a rushed breath against his mouth, breasts bouncing into his chest, and gyrating more against the hard bulge in his pants.
Breaking from her lips, he nodded quickly and moved to her neck, lifting his hips up just enough, "Wallet," and placing open mouthed kisses against the hollow of her throat, making her moan. Using the leverage of her position, Amy quickly grabbed his wallet from his back pocket, found the condom, and threw the bounded leather down onto the floor before tearing the purple package open with her teeth and unzipping his pants.
Ricky hissed into her neck at the constriction being lifted, springing up with no hesitation at her touch against his skin. He needed more. He needed to be inside her. And watching her tear the condom from the package with her teeth, made him physically twitch below. Lifting his hips again, he aided in sliding his pants down just enough for her to grip his length and slide the condom on it, throwing his head back with a low moan when she squeezed him. "Amy..."
"Shhh," She whispered, running her hand slowly up and down him, contemplating how they were going to do this. Leaning forward, she caught his next moan into her mouth, and continued to trail her fingers along him, before moving her hands up to grasp the back of his neck, "Floor. Now." Was her demand, and without any pushback, he agreed instantly, gripping her butt and sliding off the couch cushion slowly as to not hurt himself, or her.
For a split second, he wondered why the floor, but then it became more apparent that they were about to have sex on a couch that wasn't theirs, while their two children slept 10 feet away, and the idea of their 3 year old walking in on his parents bouncing and moaning into each other... well that wouldn't be good for anyone. The floor at least provided cover if he was to walk in on them. So the floor it was.
Getting her situated against the carpet, Ricky moved to remove his shirt, whipping it off and tossing it on the couch while his pants and boxers rested at his ankles
The anticipation was building in her core, feeling the fabric of her yoga pants and underwear slide down her legs with one swift motion, and his lips press themselves against the middle of her inner thigh, trialing soft kisses all the way down until...
"Oohhh!" A harsh breath escaped Amy's lips, dropping her head back against the floor as he worked his magic with his tongue; gliding in and swiping her sensitive bud before devouring her: licking and sucking while she fisted his hair and arched her back; every sense awakening as her eyes rolled back, "R-Ricky I -" biting her lip as she came, barely hearing the moan from his lips over the blood pounding in her ears.
Waiting until she caught her breath, Ricky pushed a strand of hair away from her face, "Amy - are you sure?" His question catching her off guard as she nodded. He slid his finger down to her nipple, teasing it, "I want to hear you say it," It wasn't an arrogant ask, his eyes holding genuine concern in them.
Propping herself up on her elbows, she looked into his eyes, confused as to why he had no hesitation about their previous escapades, but now was showing restraint. Feeling her confidence begin to fade among being bare against his skin, she started to cover her scars with her hands, instinctively, the way she did whenever he tried to touch her after just having Emma.
"I want you to be completely sure you want this." He whispered, meeting her eyes, and removing her hands to replace them with his lips.
Now she understood. She understood that given the situation, he wanted to make his intentions clear, and give her the chance to walk away if she didn't feel the same. Giving him a small smile, she stroked his arm with her fingers, nodding, with closed eyes, "I'm sure."
His lip twitched, hardened and eager from watching her wither by both his fingers and his tongue as he slid in slow - both sharing a moan of shock and ecstasy - as he began to thrust, carefully kissing every inch of her marked skin. "We can go-" a kiss to her hip, "as slow-" Another to her abdomen, "as you need" flexing his hips in a steady rhythm.
With his lips trailing kisses up her body, Amy grasped his shoulder, panting, "More - Ah - Harder." Obeying, Ricky spread his legs further apart, putting more weight on his boot tips, and strengthened his thrusts, placing one hand behind her head, while the other held up his body. She gasped, and arched her back, feeling him deeper than she ever had, and withered at his mouth on her breasts; swiping his tongue over her hard nipple before gently biting it with his teeth, causing her to choke, "Ri-Rickyy..." Putting her hand to his face, she felt the veins constricting in his neck.
"A-Amy!" He panted roughly, encouraged by her sounds and picking up the pace. The lines of their bodies merging in wave after wave of ice and heat; melting and catching fire in a fusion of pleasure and pain twinning together as he moved deeper, harder; his muscles taught and rock solid against hers. Her face was turning red, reveling in his hard strokes as she clamped her legs around his hips; lips drinking in her cries of pleasure, and molding together so perfectly there was hardly any room for air; tongue massaging hers as the pressure built in his spine.
Pressing the end of his palm into her abdomen just a hare above her plevic bone, and shifting her hip just the slightest bit, Ricky buried his face into her neck and began to thrust frenzily; relishing in her rasps of his name as she kneaded his bare ass with her hand and scratched the skin; meeting his hips as her legs loosened and her feet scraped against the carpet with so much stimulating pleasure she was struggling to breathe: white hot heat flashing behind Amy's eyes and flooding her entire body as she came, hard - Mouth agape against his ear as he struggled to hang on against her clamping and trembling all around him.
Fisting a chunk of her hair, and biting down on her shoulder, he let out a low growl, and closed his eyes, mouth shooting open at his own release as his thrusts slowed and his lungs begged for air to quinch the fire igniting every cell in his body. Collapsing with labored breaths against her chest.
After a minute of struggling for air, he raised slightly, kissing her softly and staring into her eyes. She caressed his cheek, and shifted a hare, wrapping her leg around his hip. Pushing up off his forearms, Ricky rolled over onto his side beside her, eyes fluttering with a sleepy smile. "Hi." Whispering as he pushed a strand of hair away from eyes.
Matching his look, Amy giggled and ran her fingers through his disheveled curls, "Hi." Using her other hand to cup his chin; the scruff of his face after not shaving for 2 days, pricking her fingertips.
Running his hand up and down her thigh, he kissed her palm, "You're beautiful, Amy Juergens - you know that?"
"Why is it important to use caution with an Arms Length Transaction?" She questioned, furrowing her brow at the words starting to blur together on the green note card in her hands. "Ricky..." He didn't answer, just kept his eyes focused on her, "Ricky!" She said again, this time throwing his pillow at him.
"Sorry, what?" Ricky responded, slightly dazed, "what are we talking about?"
"This is your test! Are you even listening to me?"
"Honestly? No. Sorry, I didn't hear a word you said."
Huffing, Amy put the notecards down on the mattress, "What are you so invested in then?"
"You." He answered, smirking and biting the corner of his bottom lip, "And how beautiful you are."
Scoffing, "Oh okay," She rolled her eyes, grimacing with a furrowed brow, "This shirt - is yours. Pretty sure John blew his nose on it. I've had a 3-month old attached to my right boob all day, while the left one won't stop leaking." The baby in her arms twitched, releasing a grunt. "Not to mention, I don't think I've showered in 3 days." Adjusting Emma against her shoulder, she slid the circular pad against her swollen and sore nipple and stuffed her boob back into her bra, "Still beautiful, huh?"
Shifting further across the mattress, he kissed her, stroking her cheek with his thumb before grabbing her hand, "You could be covered in snot, have a baby on both boobs, leaking everywhere, while never bathing again, and you'd still be beautiful to me, Amy." Her eyes met his, tears starting to brim in the corners at his words and the way he was looking at her: love and gratitude etching into his perfect features. Leaning a little further down, he placed a kiss on Emma's head, whispering into her tiny little ear, "And you're gonna be just as beautiful as mommy" Putting his hands out to take her now squirming body, "So much so that daddy is gonna have to hide you from all those yucky boys." That made her snort, nudging his shoulder with her own. "What? Its true!" He shot back, furrowing his brow at his wife stifling her laughter behind her hand, and looking into those piercing green eyes of her mini, "Ames, I know how boys are. I know how they think - and you Emma... you're not going anywhere near them until your 30. Maybe longer."
Her mouth shot open in disbelief, "30? Geez, when did you become such a helicopter dad?"
He rose a brow, shrugging, "About the time you pushed her out of you." Blowing out a breath at her head shake, he relented, "Okay, okay, maybe 30 is a bit extreme."
Taking Emma's fist into his hand to play with her tiny fingers, "We'll settle for 25. Maybe 21 if I'm feeling generous - cool?" The infant's response was a hiccup that sent a portion of her dinner down her chest and onto his hand.
Not being able to subdue her amusement, Amy couldn't keep the chuckle from passing her lips, "I think that answered your question - you're gonna lose that battle." Handing him a burp rag, and smirking at the look of pure disgust on his face at their daughter's slick vomit dripping from his hand, she held her side and mocked, "You know, that vomit... really makes you look beautiful..." Falling face forward into the mattress in hysterics at his frown and the quick raising of his middle finger to her just as another hiccup came and he threw his head back with a groan.
His hand rested at her hip, drawing her back to reality, thick tears starting to roll down her cheeks as the wave of what transpired washed over her. Concerned, but not surprised, he drew her closer to him, kissing her temple, "Hey, it's okay."
Shaking her head, Amy gripped his arm, crying into it, "I'm sorry!"
"You have nothing to be sorry for-"
"Yes I do! I'm sorry for leaving... and for breaking your heart... and our family..." She sniffled hard, "And for our -" Gulping, before erupting into gasping sobs, "our baby!"
"Amy..." Ricky said desperately trying not to break down himself because seeing her cry still managed to destroy him. "It wasn't your fault. You have nothing to apologize for, okay? We both lost it, and that's something we're going to have to deal with together, forever, but right now..." He sighed into her hair grasping her tighter against him, "Right now we need to grieve. However long it takes. We need this."
"I'm sorryyyy!" She howled, shaking and sputtering in his arms against his peppered kisses to her hair. Each brush of his lips against her skin, another piece of her armor coming undone.
The tears were falling from his eyes now, dampening her thick brown locks as he fought the lump in his throat, "I know, Ames. I know. It's okay, let it out. I'm right here."
:'( :'( :')