I'll Be There

31 | never would have made it

One word came to mind when Olivia tried to describe the feeling to herself.

Fleeting.

There were moments, typically in the presence of children, where the feeling would flare up and practically consume her. Like a few days ago, when Spencer had Theo giggling so hard, she worried the toddler would forget to breathe. Her eyes would lock on him, and just like that, she was stuck in place.

Yet, just as fast as it came, it was going. She could never hold onto it.

Because even though she knew what she desired. And even though, the past year had done a top-notch job of melting away any and all inklings of doubt. Her courage to embark on the journey—particularly, the middle part between wanting a baby and having one—remained on shaky grounds.

Her mind would scream—talk to Spencer. And she wanted to, but she found that it wasn't that simple.

Not when he seemed constantly on some other planet. Far away from her.

"This is going too far," Olivia huffed, dropping the groceries on the counter with a bit more force than necessary.

Behind her, Spencer breathed down her neck as he stood mere inches away, his free hand typing on his phone, the other gripping onto the rest of the bags.

"What's gone too far, baby?" Spencer asked distractedly.

"As much as I love the pick up and drop off at work and the companionship at the grocery store... and when I go to get the mail... and in the bathroom," she sighed, "it's just... I need some space."

"I thought you liked being together," he responded, caught off guard by this new information.

"Oh, baby, I do. But sometimes, I need some time to miss you, you know?" she propped her arm onto the counter, sinking her weight into it. "I can't miss you if you're at my heels almost every second."

"My bad," he scoffed, relieving her of this apparent burden and stepping back.

"Don't take it like that. You don't think the around the clock moping is bringing you down, us down?" She added extra emphasis for him to understand that he wasn't the only one being affected. "Just a teensy bit?" she held up her hand, pinching her thumb and pointer finger together.

He set his phone on the counter, mulling over the validity of her statement.

"It's like you're here," she scanned her immediate vicinity before making eye contact with him, "but not here."

He kept his eyes focused on her. For the past two weeks, she had been his safety net. Around her, he didn't feel as sad. He didn't really feel sad at all. Grumpy, maybe. Moody, at times. But she kept from feeling the deepest levels. And so it hadn't occurred to him that his reliance on her had been weighing her down.

"How about you start working out again?" she suggested, her voice softening. "Maybe that'll get you back in your groove."

"Yeah, I guess it's time," he walked over to the living room and plopped down on the couch.

She turned to face him. "This just isn't you, Spencer. You're an action-oriented guy. When I mentioned some time off, I meant sitting in your sadness and processing it, not losing yourself in it."

He grunted an acknowledgment.

Another idea struck her. "What if we get away, huh? Remove ourselves from," she waved her hand in a circular motion, "this depressing environment and this city, and relax for a few days. Maybe you'll find some inspiration and come back feeling more like yourself."