Half A Heartbeat Away

30

•Milena Blackford•

"Mommy, mommy look!" Lily tries to grab my attention by nudging my shirt enthusiastically and pointing to the scene playing on the tv. We were currently both in the living room together with Soir, watching Bambi on the ginormous flatscreen. I pry my eyes hardly off the clock hung on the wall against me, and into the tv to notice the little cartoon deer in action. Soir was nursing hungrily but silently on his second bottle this evening in his spot on the end of the couch, tucked safely into a blanket, and barricaded by pillows on all sides.

Lily laid next to me insisting we watch this movie, although we've seen it countless times before, it was one of her favorites beside Moana and Frozen, and I just couldn't turn down her puppy eyes asking all gooey.

What kept me bothered though that it was late in the evening and Beckham hasn't returned yet. Each tick of the clock was wedging a mild tick into my own head, while I sneakily check my phone for notifications, sighing when I find nothing. I decide to brush it off for now, as I've been doing for the past two hours, choosing to concentrate on the screen. Besides, it wasn't like he was required to inform me of his whereabouts all the time. He was a grown up that's entitled to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. But then why was my stomach growing tenser and knottier with each passing second he didn't blast through the front door like usually?

An hour and a half later, Bambi was long finished and the kids were bathed and changed all ready for bedtime. I help Lily by combing through her hair while setting on her bed while Soir was soundly asleep in his cot. Thank god he's been quiet today, I ran out of nerves a long while back.

"When's daddy going to come?" She asks me for the hundredth time this day, a tone of worrisome evident in her high pitched voice. Even she felt his absence. I was glad to know I wasn't going insane here on my own. I sigh and thread my fingers through her hair "I know you missed him sweetheart, he's busy, but he'll come home soon. But you should be asleep, wouldn't want for daddy to be mad when he gets back home to see you still awake at this hour" I urge her to sleep as it was late. More late than her bedtime required. She looks at me sadly, the realization of not seeing her father before going to bed hits her. "I'll talk to daddy about not getting home late so he doesn't miss your bedtime again, ok?" I turn her to me, trying to cheer her up. More like reassuring myself rather than the little girl.

She nods and hugs me tightly "ok, I love you" My heart flutters at her affection and I squeeze her just as tight "I love you too, sweetheart. Now it's time for bed, good night".

I get up to turn off the light and she whispers good night before sleep takes over her. I thought of going back to my room but whom was I kidding. I was in no mood for sleep. Not when my mind raced a hundred miles per second in every possible outcome there could be. My stomach was unnerved, like my intestines were twisted at a weird angle through and through.

I paddled my way to the kitchen in a pointless trip for the sake of busying myself. I opened the fridge, browsing through the different items while mentally making a list of things we need the next time we go grocery shopping. I opened cupboard after cupboard for the fun of it, after getting bored I retreated to the couch where I turned on the tv on a random show just to have a background for drowning out my heavy thoughts.

I grabbed my phone mulling over if I should text Beckham or not. On the one hand, it was one a.m and I haven't heard from him since morning, so I was worried sick of the possibility that something had happened to him. On the other hand, I didn't want to be classified as clingy and needy. That I needed to know where he was 24/7. He didn't owe me that, sadly. I fought with my mind back and forth, deciding lastly that I wasn't going to text him. Besides what would I say?
"Tell me you're alive and well so I can sleep peacefully?".
Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

I decided I'd just wait for him on the couch until he gets back, trying to immerse myself into the show as an excuse to keep here. A while after that I found my eyelids shutting on their own after this exhausting day on all bases.

I was deep into slumber when I feel movement and open my eyes suddenly to find Beckham bending down and carrying me into his strong arms. I flinch at the surprise.

"Oh my, you scared me!" I say as I look around only to notice that he was carrying me away of my previous spot on the couch. I must've fallen asleep here waiting for him.

"Didn't mean to wake you. What're you still doing here? Shouldn't you be upstairs sleeping?" He asks glancing on the clock. Like only now realizing that the time is late.

"I could ask you the same question." I reply sarcastically before biting my tongue in my mouth. I shouldn't give in to his teasing questions.

"Is that so?" He cocks an eyebrow up while returning his arms around me, carrying me in his hold like I barely weighed anything before starting to head upstairs.

"In fact? No" I answer bitterly, purposefully, and ignore his burning stare. I come to see the state he's in. His hair looks ruffled, like he'd pulled on it certainly tenfold times more than average. His dress shirt was crumpled against my cheek, implying he hadn't had a dull boring day of just sitting behind his desk at his job. His jacket was ditched, leaving his muscles poking rebelliously through the thin white fabric.

"Come on Lena, what's got you in a mood today? Why're you mad and pouty?" He says while looking down on me in his arms. I evaded his gaze and kept my eyes straight ahead "I'm not mad or anything" I recall to earlier today. The annual ball. He still haven't said a word about it. He must not want me there.

"Sure you aren't. Why's your jaw clenched? Why're you fisting my shirt in your hand almost painfully?" I hadn't noticed till he said it. My hand was in fact scrunching the end of his shirt woefully. I loosened my grip immediately and started wiggling in his chest "Put me down, I can walk"

He ignores my futile protests and refuses to yield over to me. I keep my mouth shut but my facial expressions have surely exposed the discontentedness I felt. I decide to keep my mouth shut to pass the following moments in silence, it was late and I didn't want to initiate a fight. That was until I noticed we'd passed my room where he didn't stop to drop me off, instead continuing straight ahead to his.

I turn my head to look at him "What are you doing? Drop me back at my room" I request kindly for once hoping he'll listen.

"No".