The sex had been unremarkable.

Nothing special.  No magic.  A few kisses.  A vague taste of pasta and whiskey.  The sex of a couple married for thirteen years who knew each other less now than they did the year before.

But there had been something remarkable that night.  A feeling of being watched.  A feeling of being wrapped in something.

The feeling had stayed with Elizabeth long after the snoring had started.  Being watched.  Being wrapped.  It drew her to the window.  It drew her to stare at the stars.  The more she thought about it the more she was sure that the feeling of being watched had been with her since dinner that night.

That night.

It had to be that night.  There were no other times that made sense.  But none of this made sense.  None of this was possible.  Yet there is was.  Undeniable.

How was she to explain to him?  It had been over nine years since they stopped trying; since they had been told trying was futile.

"...up to..."

It was the stone.  It was the weight that silently pushed them down into the current that pulled them apart.  It was the undertow.  They had wanted a child.  "We wanted a child" she allowed herself to say out loud.

Conversation dwindled.  'We' became a word heard infrequently.  Then not at all.  Their union - Andrew and Elizabeth, joined in the site of God and friends and family, that which God had joined together and no man was to take apart - disassembled slowly and quietly.  It had been years since anything more important than the bills had been discussed.  She no longer even knew what to call him.  She could not remember the last time she had said his name.

And now she had to tell him that the doctors were wrong.  She no longer knew him well enough to know how he'd react.  She'd wanted a child while she was still in her late twenties.  "Thirty-nine" she said out loud.  To no one.  "Thirteen times three".

She didn't hear the door open.

The End

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