A Theatrical Performance Of An Intimate Moment

Part 8

Denise finally gets her discharge date, and Lincoln starts sleeping at home again, his wife pushing him out the door when she's tired and wants to sleep. She tells Brittany once everyone's left the room, with a wink, she wants to watch her shows without anybody interrupting her.

Matty has to go back on tour the day after Denise is due to arrive home, and he's stressing about it. He doesn't want to cancel any more gigs. They've both seen the emails from ticketing agents and know how much of a nightmare it's been organizing refunds.

He finds it hard trying to focus on going back to work. All he can think about is Brittany. In his bed, drinking his tea, brushing her teeth next to him at the end of the night. He thinks about how he behaved when they were still together, before all the lying and the cheating. He thinks about how they fell out of sync. He let things slide, but so did she. Looking at her now, curled next to him on the couch, he wonders why he didn't sort himself out. It would've been simple and a hell of a lot easier than the heartache they'd both been suffering through for the last two years.

Louis heads to bed for the night, and Britt stays in her spot on the lounge. Her eyes are half open, and she's working to get off the couch and go to bed. He watches her head droop slightly on his shoulder before she catches herself.

Smiling, he slides his hand under her legs and another around her waist, swinging her over his shoulder and throwing her over. She laughs as she slaps his back, telling him to put her down. He missed her laugh. He misses the smile she gives him when she's about to kiss him or when she passes him a cup of tea. He misses how her fingers comb through his hair and the soft noise she makes in his ear when he first presses inside her.

He misses how she could pick what he was thinking and how she sensed when he was about to lose it, placing her hand on his knee or his shoulder. Sometimes she'd even lay her body on his, bringing him back to earth and weighing him down like an anchor. He missed the way she made him feel better and made him feel like he could be better.

He missed her.

~~~

Denise comes home on shaky legs. Lincoln and Matty go to the hospital to pick her up while Britt and Louis are told to stay home and keep the house clean. She'd set the mugs on the kitchen bench, tea bags sitting in them, ready for the hot water. Louis fluffed the cushions on the couch and fiddled with the stereo, adjusting the volume every few moments until he deemed it acceptable.

There's still tension between them, and she doesn't think it will go away anytime soon. The weather outside was warm, so she'd opened a few windows letting the breeze through. Louis entered the room, closing them promptly, and enough was enough.

"I can't do this with you anymore," she snaps. "I'm sorry!"

He doesn't even look at her as he rummages through the pantry, and she feels like screaming.

"I'm sorry that I stopped replying to you. I'm sorry that I didn't call your mum back. I'm fucking sorry!"

She's standing on one side of the kitchen, and he's at least looking at her now.

"I don't expect you to understand. I know what I did was wrong, but I'm punishing myself a lot worse than you'll ever be able to," she slams the pantry door closed as he stands in front of it and stares him down.

"So, give it your best shot."

He doesn't say anything, and she pushes past him when she hears Lincoln's SUV pull into the gravel driveway. Louis runs out the front door to help, and Matty hops out of the back seat. Denise steps out of the car on shaky feet, gripping her eldest son's arm tightly as they hobble slowly to the front door.