Fic: Wishes, Chapter 3
Aug. 21st, 2009 06:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cloversworld
Title: Wishes, Chapter 3
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clover71
Pairing: Cook/ Archie
Rating: PG
Description: This is the sequel to Regrets and its companion fic Sentiments
Summary: When Archie found out that the son he'd been raising wasn't gestated through surrogacy as he had believed but was naturally conceived, he concluded that Cook had an affair and made a rash decision to file for a divorce, leading his children caught up in a web of ugly consequences brought by the divorce process.
Disclaimer:
1) Please note that this is purely fiction and none of the contents are real except for some of the characters used in this story.
2) Most characters used are based on real people but the details within do not purposely imply occurrences in real life; thus, anything here that concurs with real events may be completely coincidental.
3) This fic is created based solely on the imagination of the author and for non-profitable purpose.
♥ Chapter 1 ♥ Chapter 2 ♥
Author's notes:
- Previous notes may be found here.
- Not beta'ed as usual so this would naturally have tons of mistakes. I wrote the first few lines of Cook's POV when Archie left as requested byhoneybeemmw, I'm not sure if this is what you were hoping to read bb, I'm so so sorry if this disappoints you. I'll write a separate one if this doesn't fit your request.
- Following the format of its prequels, this story will be written in second person POV, alternating between Cook and Archie. I'm beginning to find it difficult and I know it would be a mess if I write succeeding chapters on third person POV. But just a heads up. Later chapters might eventually migrate to third person POV because other characters would then be involved, unless I'm able to pull it off still using second POV.
- I'm writing Archie's POV now, hoping that I would be able to post both men's POV successively.
Chapter 3
Cook's POV
~ start ~
It was like a nightmare that threatened to suck every last breath left, tearing the soul to shreds and leaving the core of your very essence empty.
The words written on the letter you found on the bed you have shared with your husband for years twisted and twirled before you like a fucking tease, mocking you as if the pain that shot through every inch of your heart wasn’t torture enough.
'It’s just too much for me to handle right now'. These words. His words had been gnawing at every fiber of your sanity. It had pushed you to the edge, one more shove and you will fall.
It was ironically vivid. Seeing him standing at the threshold of the house you both once called ‘home’. His lips curved up not into his usual smile that could brighten up a room but rather a smile that seemed to say ‘so long’ and then you watched him fade into the background.
Archie was gone, driven away by the poor judgment you had done once upon a time. It was something you couldn’t erase, couldn’t change. Now the one person who had made life worth living had turned his back and closed his doors on you. And you fear that he had changed the locks and the key you held as the only access to his heart would no longer work.
Every night, the magic of his voice floated in the air, singing the song you knew Ethan took comfort from. Now it was your personal lullaby that dragged you down into the melancholy of the chilly air of solitude, to the empty, colorless corner of your life.
His song used to sing of one star that shone down on you and him and your children, and how you all longed to be together when the bitter reality of your profession required you to be apart. But now it sounded different. It no longer had the promise that you were bound together by one light. It sounded more like… ‘good-bye’.
And his voice was becoming distant, fading into a place you felt you were no longer welcome. You feel the weight of the loss in your chest. The remaining stronger part of you reached out in desperate hope that you will be able to take hold of him, pull him back to you, back into your arms where he should belong.
But Archie was gone. He had left you to throw yourself into an endless pit filled with guilt and regret. And it was your damn fucking fault.
The misty beam of the faint light that was filtered through the tiny gap between dark curtains hanging by the bay window of your cold, stuffy bedroom danced across the foot of your bed. Your eyes struggled to focus on the bare white ceiling as you awoke from another dream. It had been the same every night, every fucking night since Archie and Karissa left.
Cool, trembling hand reached out to Archie’s side of the bed. It no longer came a surprise that it would land on empty cold sheet. Unlike the first few nights when your palm would rest on the vacant spot and the desolate reality would crash on you like waves, threatening to drown you in sorrow. But hope wasn’t lost. You still held on the littlest faith that the warmth of the body that you had woken up to for the past five years of your life would one day return. It was a silent promise that you made to yourself.
The baby monitor on the bedside table whirred to life as Ethan’s cries suddenly broke through the discomfiting silence. It only reminded you of the days when Archie would get up before you even had a chance to twitch a muscle and rush to your son’s side. Where was he now?
It was as if the sight of you alone wasn’t enough to pacify your baby. Ethan certainly made that clear when you reached down his crib to pick him up but he shoved your hand away and shook his head vigorously, crying out, “Nonono! Papapapa! Want Papa!”
The instinctive urge to call out his name poised at the tip of your tongue. Instead, you heaved a sigh and reached out to lay your palm on your son’s cheek, gliding your thumb under his eyes to wipe away his tears. “So do I son,” you whispered under your breath. “So do I.”
The question whether things would go back to normal hung in the air. You can’t imagine life without Archie. You needed him. Ethan needed him. Without him there was this gaping hole in your life that would always make you feel incomplete.
If the child hadn’t screamed, you would have gotten lost in your piteous rumination.
“Sssh,” you coaxed your son to settle down as you made another attempt to pick him up. “We’re going to see Papa today, remember?”
And as if you had said the magic word, he stopped crying. He looked up to you and with a sob, he said, “Papa?”
“Yes. We’ll go visit Papa, and Karissa too. We’re going shopping.” You scooped him up as soon as he stretched out his arms.
The usual routine of preparing breakfast with nothing but Ethan’s ceaseless mumbling to disturb the blanket of dreary silence that had cloaked every room of the house was nearly wearing you down. Every turn and every move you made screamed for Archie. You want him back.
It was perhaps a pointless feat, but you kept your fingers crossed as you got Ethan into his over-all that it wouldn’t just be Karissa you would be picking up for your scheduled mall day. You deeply hoped Archie would come along. And when you were driving up the road that led to his apartment, that hope turned to a desperate prayer.
You parked the car along the pavement outside Avalon Sunset and glanced at your reflection on the rear view mirror, making a futile attempt to fix your hair but then decided that it looked better when tousled anyway. You took a long deep breath before stepping out, trying to will your heartbeat to slow down before your blood pressure rises due to anxiety.
Ethan was kicking wildly in his car seat when you opened the rear door, seemingly aware that he was about to see his papa and his sister. “Daddy, daddy!” he screamed, making you realize that it was taking you too long to get him out of his little portable prison. You managed to slide him off before you spaced out again, which was weird because that was such a Archie-like thing to do.
“Daddy! Daddy! Papapa!” Ethan clamored and twisted in your arms as if he was telling you to get your butt moving.
It had been more than a week since you last saw Archie and Karissa, and you felt highly disappointed when your husband chose to spend Thanksgiving in Murray with his family. You didn’t expect him to invite you, but you at least hoped Lupe or Jeff would when you called to wish them both a ‘Happy Thanksgiving.’ It seemed Archie had already warned them not to, since all they said was ‘thank you’ and asked about Ethan the whole time.
You flew to Missouri on a spur of the moment decision and were glad to have your family around to distract you for a few days. They didn’t know Archie had moved out but when you couldn’t give a proper response when they asked where he and Karissa were and why they weren’t all together, they seemed to have caught on.
Your mom certainly didn’t miss the hints and she just held you the entire night while you cried on her shoulders. She didn’t shower you with a thousand questions as you feared she would. All she asked was a brief explanation of what really happened and if you were willing to work on fixing your marriage. Was there anything to fix? It filled you with dread when your mom spoke as if she could clearly see that unless you did something, your marriage was inevitably going to end.
The steps leading up to the apartment building seemed endless and the few minutes spent waiting for an elevator seemed like ages. When you stepped out of the third floor and made your way along the corridors in search of Archie’s apartment, you feel your heartbeat racing like you were some kind of a lovesick teenage boy who was about to pick up his date to the prom.
Mixed emotions you couldn’t quite place surged through you like an electric current strong enough to cripple your senses when you were finally standing on his doorstep. You stood there like a statue, unable to lift your hand to press the buzzer. Only when Ethan began writhing against your hold and pulled at the visor of your cap did you begin to move and gathering what little remained of your strength, you pushed the large green button near the doorframe.
“Just a minute!” You heard his smooth-flowing voice from the other side followed by light timid footsteps and when he finally opened the door, you caught your breath and swallowed the lump that suddenly settled in your throat. “Hey,” he greeted brightly and stood there like he was contemplating whether to let you and Ethan in, but he stepped aside nonetheless, saying, “I was just fixing Kari’s hair then she’ll be ready to go.” He gestured to the couch and asked you to take a seat. He ruffled Ethan’s hair before heading down the hallway, calling out to your daughter.
You settled Ethan down, letting him explore the place. It was quite amazing how strong his legs were that you were able to get him off the walking chair early. Not a minute had gone by when you heard a high-pitched “Daddy!” and your four-year old came bounding to you like an over-excited puppy. She hopped onto your lap and wrapped her little arms around your neck tightly, saying, “I missed you so so so sooooo much!”
“I missed you too,” you said, fighting the tears that were threatening to push to the surface of your eyes. You pressed your face on her cheek, inhaling her babyish scent and giving her a peck on her cheek before you held her at arms length. “Am I imagining things,” you started with a teasing tone, “Or have you grown a lot?”
Karissa giggled, and she sounded like Archie. “Well grandpa Jeff told me I’ve grown taller,” she said rather proudly, raising her hand for emphasis.
“I think you have,” you agreed, although deep down you weren’t certain if the physical change you noticed on Karissa was only because you haven’t seen her for days.
You were about to complement her further but a loud crash startled you both and your eyes immediately landed Ethan, who was standing by the side table and something that looked like a photo frame laid shattered by his feet.
Before Karissa managed to slide off your lap so you could stand up and grab your son, Archie had beaten you to it. He picked up Ethan from behind, moving him away from the shards of broken glass. You watched him check Ethan carefully, and you knew he was making sure your son didn’t get injured.
He planted a kiss on top of Ethan’s head, sighing, “You’re all right,” then he looked at you and said, ”He’s not hurt or anything.” And all you could do was nod as if you’d agree to every little thing he’d say at that moment.
You moved to pick up what was left of the photo frame and saw that it held a picture of you, Archie and the kids taken during spring. When you bent down again to pick up the broken glasses, Archie asserted, “Oh you can leave that, I’ll clean it up later.” He turned to Karissa, saying, “Go get your backpack sweetie, you have a long day ahead with your brother and Daddy.”
Archie moved to hand Ethan to you as soon as Karissa went off to get her things but your son refused to leave his papa’s arms. “Nonnonnonno. Papa. Papapa,” the boy whined, his fists were tightly gripping on Archie’s shirt.
Your husband held him close, cooing as he rocked him in place. Ethan then planted a wet smack on Archie’s cheek and he kissed the boy on his nose in return. Then Archie pretended to bite him on the neck, which made Ethan giggle and laugh and squeal.
When Karissa came back, she looked at Archie hopefully and asked, “Can’t you come with us papa?” And you discreetly kept your fingers crossed that he would give in to your daughter’s plea.
But your face fell when you heard him say, “You know I can’t Kari, I’ve got meetings to go to and a writing session with Uncle Mike later.” And Karissa thrust out her lower lip in a disheartening pout. “Oh baby,” Archie cooed as he balanced Ethan on his hip, “You and Daddy and Ethan are going to have so much fun anyway. You’ll shop at your favorite toy stores, and you can go pick up new clothes and you’ll go to Chuck E. Cheese for lunch. Just pretend papa’s with you.”
Karissa dropped her head and slowly made her way to the front door, muttering, “But… but it’s not the same.” And you felt a clench in your heart to see her upset. You feared that your current living arrangement was beginning to have an effect on your daughter. Though you wish you could place the blame on Archie for moving out or to anyone else for some other reason, you knew that at every angle, you were still the one at fault.
Archie turned to you, begging you to take Ethan from him. Your son… his son was still clutching on his shirt as if he was a lifesaver and he would drown if he let go. You reached out and grabbed the boy under his arms and slowly peeled him away from Archie. But as soon as Ethan realized what was happening, he started kicking wildly, holding his arms out to Archie, who just leaned in and gave him a light kiss on his cheek. Instead of pulling away though, he moved up then his lips hovered over your cheek and were merely centimeters away when he abruptly halted and stepped back, a pinkish tint crawled up his cheeks.
“Uhm...” he began with his common stuttering, something you’ve always found so endearing about him. “Uhm… well have fun!” he blurted, looking a bit more pretentiously not upset.
You were soon out of the building, struggling to keep a squirming one-year-old in tantrums balanced on your hip while you dug into your jeans pocket for your car keys. And you so much wanted to curse when you couldn’t feel it anywhere, but the rules about cursing with children around withheld your urge.
Then your keys magically appeared beside you, dangling from a hand you knew so well. The most perfect hand you’d ever held, like something delicately carved from ivory and splashed with the colors of the sun and earth, softened with the mist from the clouds and you have no idea when you started to think like a fucking poet.
He must’ve sensed your garbled thoughts because he said, “You must have dropped it on the couch,” to snap you out of your reverie.
And of course, you just proved how pathetic you were by muttering, “Thanks,” which you were pretty sure sounded so flat… unemotional, because your thoughts would just not shut up and you just wished your heartbeat would slow down, dammit.
“Well,” he said, perhaps hating the silence that lingered, “You guys have fun. I better,” he was swaying his arms gesturing over to where his car was parked, “I better head off to my meeting.”
He opened his arms to Karissa who was standing by the pavement with her lower lip still sticking out, looking like a lost little puppy. Archie sighed and wrapped her in his arms cooing and saying things like “You be good with Daddy, okay?” and “Don’t wander off at the mall on your own.” And finally he turned to you and said, “I’m not sure how long the meeting and the writing session will be, but you know how it is. Will it be all right if you take Kari with you back ho— to your house and I’ll just pick her up later?”
It’s still our home, you wanted to tell him. But for some reason you couldn’t push the words out of your mouth so you just nodded. You watched as Archie walked over to his car and you would’ve continued to stare but Ethan started kicking wildly against your hold and yelling, “Papapa! Papa!” And you saw a glimpse of him through the side of your vision just as you were unlocking the car door.
Archie stood for a moment and watched as you slipped Ethan at the back and once you were done struggling to get him into his car seat, you slipped back out only to see that Archie had already got into his car. You turned to Karissa and asked her to get in before going around to the driver’s side.
The unusual silence of your daughter snagged your attention while you drove down the busy streets of Los Angeles. “Something wrong, sweetie?” When she looked up, you literally hitched a breath when you saw the depth in her eyes. It was like an ocean filled with worries and questions and her basic understanding on the facts of life.
But that was nothing compared to the words that slipped out of her supposedly innocent mouth. And you wondered when your four-year-old daughter turned forty. Had she changed so much within the few days that you had not seen her? With a knowing look, she gazed up at you and said, not asked, but stated firmly, “You messed up, didn’t you daddy? Now Papa might file a divorce then we will no longer be a family.”
Suddenly, you lost the ability to speak. You stared down the road as if you were going through a dark endless tunnel. Divorce. One word you dread to hear unexpectedly came from an innocent little girl who was caught in between all these chaos you brought into your lives. What have you done?
Just what have you done?
~ tbc ~
=========================================================
Comments will be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading.
Author:
clover71Pairing: Cook/ Archie
Rating: PG
Description: This is the sequel to Regrets and its companion fic Sentiments
Summary: When Archie found out that the son he'd been raising wasn't gestated through surrogacy as he had believed but was naturally conceived, he concluded that Cook had an affair and made a rash decision to file for a divorce, leading his children caught up in a web of ugly consequences brought by the divorce process.
Disclaimer:
1) Please note that this is purely fiction and none of the contents are real except for some of the characters used in this story.
2) Most characters used are based on real people but the details within do not purposely imply occurrences in real life; thus, anything here that concurs with real events may be completely coincidental.
3) This fic is created based solely on the imagination of the author and for non-profitable purpose.
♥ Chapter 1 ♥ Chapter 2 ♥
Author's notes:
- Previous notes may be found here.
- Not beta'ed as usual so this would naturally have tons of mistakes. I wrote the first few lines of Cook's POV when Archie left as requested by
honeybeemmw, I'm not sure if this is what you were hoping to read bb, I'm so so sorry if this disappoints you. I'll write a separate one if this doesn't fit your request.- Following the format of its prequels, this story will be written in second person POV, alternating between Cook and Archie. I'm beginning to find it difficult and I know it would be a mess if I write succeeding chapters on third person POV. But just a heads up. Later chapters might eventually migrate to third person POV because other characters would then be involved, unless I'm able to pull it off still using second POV.
- I'm writing Archie's POV now, hoping that I would be able to post both men's POV successively.
Chapter 3
Cook's POV
~ start ~
It was like a nightmare that threatened to suck every last breath left, tearing the soul to shreds and leaving the core of your very essence empty.
The words written on the letter you found on the bed you have shared with your husband for years twisted and twirled before you like a fucking tease, mocking you as if the pain that shot through every inch of your heart wasn’t torture enough.
'It’s just too much for me to handle right now'. These words. His words had been gnawing at every fiber of your sanity. It had pushed you to the edge, one more shove and you will fall.
It was ironically vivid. Seeing him standing at the threshold of the house you both once called ‘home’. His lips curved up not into his usual smile that could brighten up a room but rather a smile that seemed to say ‘so long’ and then you watched him fade into the background.
Archie was gone, driven away by the poor judgment you had done once upon a time. It was something you couldn’t erase, couldn’t change. Now the one person who had made life worth living had turned his back and closed his doors on you. And you fear that he had changed the locks and the key you held as the only access to his heart would no longer work.
Every night, the magic of his voice floated in the air, singing the song you knew Ethan took comfort from. Now it was your personal lullaby that dragged you down into the melancholy of the chilly air of solitude, to the empty, colorless corner of your life.
His song used to sing of one star that shone down on you and him and your children, and how you all longed to be together when the bitter reality of your profession required you to be apart. But now it sounded different. It no longer had the promise that you were bound together by one light. It sounded more like… ‘good-bye’.
And his voice was becoming distant, fading into a place you felt you were no longer welcome. You feel the weight of the loss in your chest. The remaining stronger part of you reached out in desperate hope that you will be able to take hold of him, pull him back to you, back into your arms where he should belong.
But Archie was gone. He had left you to throw yourself into an endless pit filled with guilt and regret. And it was your damn fucking fault.
The misty beam of the faint light that was filtered through the tiny gap between dark curtains hanging by the bay window of your cold, stuffy bedroom danced across the foot of your bed. Your eyes struggled to focus on the bare white ceiling as you awoke from another dream. It had been the same every night, every fucking night since Archie and Karissa left.
Cool, trembling hand reached out to Archie’s side of the bed. It no longer came a surprise that it would land on empty cold sheet. Unlike the first few nights when your palm would rest on the vacant spot and the desolate reality would crash on you like waves, threatening to drown you in sorrow. But hope wasn’t lost. You still held on the littlest faith that the warmth of the body that you had woken up to for the past five years of your life would one day return. It was a silent promise that you made to yourself.
The baby monitor on the bedside table whirred to life as Ethan’s cries suddenly broke through the discomfiting silence. It only reminded you of the days when Archie would get up before you even had a chance to twitch a muscle and rush to your son’s side. Where was he now?
It was as if the sight of you alone wasn’t enough to pacify your baby. Ethan certainly made that clear when you reached down his crib to pick him up but he shoved your hand away and shook his head vigorously, crying out, “Nonono! Papapapa! Want Papa!”
The instinctive urge to call out his name poised at the tip of your tongue. Instead, you heaved a sigh and reached out to lay your palm on your son’s cheek, gliding your thumb under his eyes to wipe away his tears. “So do I son,” you whispered under your breath. “So do I.”
The question whether things would go back to normal hung in the air. You can’t imagine life without Archie. You needed him. Ethan needed him. Without him there was this gaping hole in your life that would always make you feel incomplete.
If the child hadn’t screamed, you would have gotten lost in your piteous rumination.
“Sssh,” you coaxed your son to settle down as you made another attempt to pick him up. “We’re going to see Papa today, remember?”
And as if you had said the magic word, he stopped crying. He looked up to you and with a sob, he said, “Papa?”
“Yes. We’ll go visit Papa, and Karissa too. We’re going shopping.” You scooped him up as soon as he stretched out his arms.
The usual routine of preparing breakfast with nothing but Ethan’s ceaseless mumbling to disturb the blanket of dreary silence that had cloaked every room of the house was nearly wearing you down. Every turn and every move you made screamed for Archie. You want him back.
It was perhaps a pointless feat, but you kept your fingers crossed as you got Ethan into his over-all that it wouldn’t just be Karissa you would be picking up for your scheduled mall day. You deeply hoped Archie would come along. And when you were driving up the road that led to his apartment, that hope turned to a desperate prayer.
You parked the car along the pavement outside Avalon Sunset and glanced at your reflection on the rear view mirror, making a futile attempt to fix your hair but then decided that it looked better when tousled anyway. You took a long deep breath before stepping out, trying to will your heartbeat to slow down before your blood pressure rises due to anxiety.
Ethan was kicking wildly in his car seat when you opened the rear door, seemingly aware that he was about to see his papa and his sister. “Daddy, daddy!” he screamed, making you realize that it was taking you too long to get him out of his little portable prison. You managed to slide him off before you spaced out again, which was weird because that was such a Archie-like thing to do.
“Daddy! Daddy! Papapa!” Ethan clamored and twisted in your arms as if he was telling you to get your butt moving.
It had been more than a week since you last saw Archie and Karissa, and you felt highly disappointed when your husband chose to spend Thanksgiving in Murray with his family. You didn’t expect him to invite you, but you at least hoped Lupe or Jeff would when you called to wish them both a ‘Happy Thanksgiving.’ It seemed Archie had already warned them not to, since all they said was ‘thank you’ and asked about Ethan the whole time.
You flew to Missouri on a spur of the moment decision and were glad to have your family around to distract you for a few days. They didn’t know Archie had moved out but when you couldn’t give a proper response when they asked where he and Karissa were and why they weren’t all together, they seemed to have caught on.
Your mom certainly didn’t miss the hints and she just held you the entire night while you cried on her shoulders. She didn’t shower you with a thousand questions as you feared she would. All she asked was a brief explanation of what really happened and if you were willing to work on fixing your marriage. Was there anything to fix? It filled you with dread when your mom spoke as if she could clearly see that unless you did something, your marriage was inevitably going to end.
The steps leading up to the apartment building seemed endless and the few minutes spent waiting for an elevator seemed like ages. When you stepped out of the third floor and made your way along the corridors in search of Archie’s apartment, you feel your heartbeat racing like you were some kind of a lovesick teenage boy who was about to pick up his date to the prom.
Mixed emotions you couldn’t quite place surged through you like an electric current strong enough to cripple your senses when you were finally standing on his doorstep. You stood there like a statue, unable to lift your hand to press the buzzer. Only when Ethan began writhing against your hold and pulled at the visor of your cap did you begin to move and gathering what little remained of your strength, you pushed the large green button near the doorframe.
“Just a minute!” You heard his smooth-flowing voice from the other side followed by light timid footsteps and when he finally opened the door, you caught your breath and swallowed the lump that suddenly settled in your throat. “Hey,” he greeted brightly and stood there like he was contemplating whether to let you and Ethan in, but he stepped aside nonetheless, saying, “I was just fixing Kari’s hair then she’ll be ready to go.” He gestured to the couch and asked you to take a seat. He ruffled Ethan’s hair before heading down the hallway, calling out to your daughter.
You settled Ethan down, letting him explore the place. It was quite amazing how strong his legs were that you were able to get him off the walking chair early. Not a minute had gone by when you heard a high-pitched “Daddy!” and your four-year old came bounding to you like an over-excited puppy. She hopped onto your lap and wrapped her little arms around your neck tightly, saying, “I missed you so so so sooooo much!”
“I missed you too,” you said, fighting the tears that were threatening to push to the surface of your eyes. You pressed your face on her cheek, inhaling her babyish scent and giving her a peck on her cheek before you held her at arms length. “Am I imagining things,” you started with a teasing tone, “Or have you grown a lot?”
Karissa giggled, and she sounded like Archie. “Well grandpa Jeff told me I’ve grown taller,” she said rather proudly, raising her hand for emphasis.
“I think you have,” you agreed, although deep down you weren’t certain if the physical change you noticed on Karissa was only because you haven’t seen her for days.
You were about to complement her further but a loud crash startled you both and your eyes immediately landed Ethan, who was standing by the side table and something that looked like a photo frame laid shattered by his feet.
Before Karissa managed to slide off your lap so you could stand up and grab your son, Archie had beaten you to it. He picked up Ethan from behind, moving him away from the shards of broken glass. You watched him check Ethan carefully, and you knew he was making sure your son didn’t get injured.
He planted a kiss on top of Ethan’s head, sighing, “You’re all right,” then he looked at you and said, ”He’s not hurt or anything.” And all you could do was nod as if you’d agree to every little thing he’d say at that moment.
You moved to pick up what was left of the photo frame and saw that it held a picture of you, Archie and the kids taken during spring. When you bent down again to pick up the broken glasses, Archie asserted, “Oh you can leave that, I’ll clean it up later.” He turned to Karissa, saying, “Go get your backpack sweetie, you have a long day ahead with your brother and Daddy.”
Archie moved to hand Ethan to you as soon as Karissa went off to get her things but your son refused to leave his papa’s arms. “Nonnonnonno. Papa. Papapa,” the boy whined, his fists were tightly gripping on Archie’s shirt.
Your husband held him close, cooing as he rocked him in place. Ethan then planted a wet smack on Archie’s cheek and he kissed the boy on his nose in return. Then Archie pretended to bite him on the neck, which made Ethan giggle and laugh and squeal.
When Karissa came back, she looked at Archie hopefully and asked, “Can’t you come with us papa?” And you discreetly kept your fingers crossed that he would give in to your daughter’s plea.
But your face fell when you heard him say, “You know I can’t Kari, I’ve got meetings to go to and a writing session with Uncle Mike later.” And Karissa thrust out her lower lip in a disheartening pout. “Oh baby,” Archie cooed as he balanced Ethan on his hip, “You and Daddy and Ethan are going to have so much fun anyway. You’ll shop at your favorite toy stores, and you can go pick up new clothes and you’ll go to Chuck E. Cheese for lunch. Just pretend papa’s with you.”
Karissa dropped her head and slowly made her way to the front door, muttering, “But… but it’s not the same.” And you felt a clench in your heart to see her upset. You feared that your current living arrangement was beginning to have an effect on your daughter. Though you wish you could place the blame on Archie for moving out or to anyone else for some other reason, you knew that at every angle, you were still the one at fault.
Archie turned to you, begging you to take Ethan from him. Your son… his son was still clutching on his shirt as if he was a lifesaver and he would drown if he let go. You reached out and grabbed the boy under his arms and slowly peeled him away from Archie. But as soon as Ethan realized what was happening, he started kicking wildly, holding his arms out to Archie, who just leaned in and gave him a light kiss on his cheek. Instead of pulling away though, he moved up then his lips hovered over your cheek and were merely centimeters away when he abruptly halted and stepped back, a pinkish tint crawled up his cheeks.
“Uhm...” he began with his common stuttering, something you’ve always found so endearing about him. “Uhm… well have fun!” he blurted, looking a bit more pretentiously not upset.
You were soon out of the building, struggling to keep a squirming one-year-old in tantrums balanced on your hip while you dug into your jeans pocket for your car keys. And you so much wanted to curse when you couldn’t feel it anywhere, but the rules about cursing with children around withheld your urge.
Then your keys magically appeared beside you, dangling from a hand you knew so well. The most perfect hand you’d ever held, like something delicately carved from ivory and splashed with the colors of the sun and earth, softened with the mist from the clouds and you have no idea when you started to think like a fucking poet.
He must’ve sensed your garbled thoughts because he said, “You must have dropped it on the couch,” to snap you out of your reverie.
And of course, you just proved how pathetic you were by muttering, “Thanks,” which you were pretty sure sounded so flat… unemotional, because your thoughts would just not shut up and you just wished your heartbeat would slow down, dammit.
“Well,” he said, perhaps hating the silence that lingered, “You guys have fun. I better,” he was swaying his arms gesturing over to where his car was parked, “I better head off to my meeting.”
He opened his arms to Karissa who was standing by the pavement with her lower lip still sticking out, looking like a lost little puppy. Archie sighed and wrapped her in his arms cooing and saying things like “You be good with Daddy, okay?” and “Don’t wander off at the mall on your own.” And finally he turned to you and said, “I’m not sure how long the meeting and the writing session will be, but you know how it is. Will it be all right if you take Kari with you back ho— to your house and I’ll just pick her up later?”
It’s still our home, you wanted to tell him. But for some reason you couldn’t push the words out of your mouth so you just nodded. You watched as Archie walked over to his car and you would’ve continued to stare but Ethan started kicking wildly against your hold and yelling, “Papapa! Papa!” And you saw a glimpse of him through the side of your vision just as you were unlocking the car door.
Archie stood for a moment and watched as you slipped Ethan at the back and once you were done struggling to get him into his car seat, you slipped back out only to see that Archie had already got into his car. You turned to Karissa and asked her to get in before going around to the driver’s side.
The unusual silence of your daughter snagged your attention while you drove down the busy streets of Los Angeles. “Something wrong, sweetie?” When she looked up, you literally hitched a breath when you saw the depth in her eyes. It was like an ocean filled with worries and questions and her basic understanding on the facts of life.
But that was nothing compared to the words that slipped out of her supposedly innocent mouth. And you wondered when your four-year-old daughter turned forty. Had she changed so much within the few days that you had not seen her? With a knowing look, she gazed up at you and said, not asked, but stated firmly, “You messed up, didn’t you daddy? Now Papa might file a divorce then we will no longer be a family.”
Suddenly, you lost the ability to speak. You stared down the road as if you were going through a dark endless tunnel. Divorce. One word you dread to hear unexpectedly came from an innocent little girl who was caught in between all these chaos you brought into your lives. What have you done?
Just what have you done?
~ tbc ~
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