Dallas, Texas
March 1977
Rolling from her left side to her right, then back again, Sue Ellen's restlessness had little to do with the pillow or mattress beneath her, nor the sheet or blanket over her.
Options. They had options. They could try again together, assisted, but the chances of success were slim. Donation was an option, legally, a baby conceived with JR's permission from a donor would be his, but emotionally, he struggled with the idea. Adoption was another possibility, yet JR refused to even discuss it, citing his unease about John Ross Ewing III's place in his heart and estate. Alternative means of conception lingered as an unspoken option, one she hadn't dared to voice; their marriage wasn't one where she was granted the same freedoms he exercised 'discreetly.' Remaining childless was technically an option too, but for her, it wasn't a choice she could accept.
Options. They had options, but they were stuck.
It wasn't about desire, they both wanted the same thing. It was about action. Unless JR decided to loosen his grip on how that desire could be fulfilled, they'd never make any progress.
"You can't sleep either?"
His voice broke the darkness, and though she wasn't surprised, she'd known he was awake, his breathing hadn't changed, what did surprise her was his willingness to talk. There were times when JR's silence was contented and times when it was brooding; lately, it had been the latter.
She'd been careful not to upset him, keeping her own words to a minimum. Where she imagined he felt cold and numb, she felt strangely alive. They had options, if only he would open his mind to them.
"No."
Though she was sure he'd heard her, his behaviour didn't indicate it; he remained still, unmoving after her response.
"We've both got a lot on our minds."
She tried to draw him into a conversation, but she didn't expect where he took her invitation.
"If you wanted a divorce now, I'd give you one. A generous, fair one."
"A divorce? JR, no!"
Sitting up, she flicked on the bedside lamp, staring at him, horrified by his suggestion.
"Why not? You want children, and I can't give them to you. It isn't fair to either of us to stay married if we're going to be miserable. I'm not usually selfless, but I don't see any option here but to be selfless."
It crossed her mind that he might be wallowing in self-pity rather than true selflessness, but she wasn't about to start a fight. Divorce was on his mind, and she couldn't risk that outcome, no matter what she felt.
"JR, I love you, and I want to remain your wife, children or no children."
"How can you love me, knowing you'll never get what you want from me?"
He sat up, meeting her gaze, his worry and pain stark in his eyes.
"I don't know that. And even if I did, my love for you is real, right now. A baby is a future wish. I won't give up what I have for a dream."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. I love you, and I want to be with you."
She did want a baby, more than anything. But now wasn't the time to remind him of that. He was finally opening up to her, and what he needed most was her listening ear, her open heart, and her reassuring, empathetic words.
"I love you too."
He leaned in and kissed her, reaching out to switch off the light, then pulled her closer, bringing them back down to where they'd been lying before.
Surprised by his tenderness, she let him guide things where he wanted to go, grateful to be back in his trusted circle once more.