Still Life

She lay nude in bed, barely covered by cotton sheets. He leaned on the door frame and peered in. He watched her do nothing. Not sleeping or hibernating. More like she was cyrogenically frozen in time. He felt like he was staring at a still life painting.

She was haunted by the words " It's better this way we couldn't afford a child anyway..."   Yet he insisted on saying them. He didn't want anyone to be sorry for them. For their loss. Why was it a crime to feel? They just lost a child...It wasn't just a miscarriage. Was it too much to ask to see him broken? He wanted life to go on like nothing had ever happened. He wanted time to just zoom by. Maybe life was just routines and going through the motions for him but it was never like that for her.

He remebered her before...before that day. Was it only a week ago? He remebered how happy she was. He was content. The idea of being a father hadn't yet sunken in yet...He didn't feel ready.But she seemed so sure that everything would just fall in to place.

He knew she would eat when she was hungry but he was hungery now. It seemed like a crime to eat without her. But he had waited as long as he possibly could. His stomach was an aching pit. She was probably hungry too. Last night she had just nibbled on a couple of fish sticks. He would make her breakfast in bed.

The sound of bacon sizzling was oddly comforting. She drifted in and out of conciousness to the sound. In her dream land the sizzling turned into the sound of waves. She peeled off the sheet and ran in. She never walked in, she would run or dive in.

She woke up to the smell of home...bacon, coffee and burnt toast. She heard something rattling. She turned around and saw him balancing a tray on him palms. He made silly faces and pretended the tray was heavy. Then he pushed the tray on the bed and pulled one of the kitchen chairs by the bed. He slowly sat down and stared for awhile. She stared back. But this time they weren,t staring each other down. They were tip toeing.

She looked at the tray and said " I'm not hungry"

He said " Yes, you are"

Then he dipped a spoon in yogurt and fed it to her. The yogurt was not freash. The yougurt must be a almost expired. She didn,t like it like that: Watery and Tart. But she ate it anyway.

" I want the bacon" She demanded.

He nodded and picked up an especially crispy bit. He took a bite and then fed her the rest. She slowly sat up and eyed the plate. He was eating all of her bacon.

" More" She demanded

He nodded and gave her another taste. Was it too early to be relieved. Yes, it probably was...She needed time. He could give her time. He couldn't be empathetic but maybe patience would be enough.

She got bored with his pace and just stared picking at the food with her hands. He pushed a fork in her direction. She muttered her thanks and set to work.

She needed to make up her mind. Whether or not she was going to let it go. How important was it too see him break down? It made more sense now. It seemed it was more important that he lift her up and that she do the same. He had to be hurting too. Even if it was the wrong time...He had to be wondering what if? What if that baby made it out alive and well? Would he make the same mistakes his father did?

She reached out and put her hand on his.  He looked at her. He was surprised. Her eyes were thawed...The coldness in her heart was gone and so he dared to hope.

She whispered " It's going to be okay" 

The End

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