Intertwined

Fight and Flight. Freeze and Fawn

A/N: This chapter took me a while. Sorry for the delay. I know what the next chapter is and have half written it, so I should have it done in a couple of days. Thank you for reading. Any feedback is welcome. TW talk of abuse and PTSD.

For the next four weeks Mia and I spent as much time together as possible. We were never more than a few feet away from each other when I was home from work. Most of the time we were touching in some way. Not for sex, just for the connection. Wherever Mia and I were together there was a constant pull, to connect. The hairs on my body would stand up when I felt her presence and it wasn't long before our fingers touched, our bodies brushed together, or our legs crossed over each other's. It wasn't even voluntary, but instinctual. As though some inner part of Mia recognised an inner part of me without words, or sight and we were drawn together magnetically. It wasn't needy or feverish, although we could play those roles if we chose, but our connection was necessary, it felt old and always and ancient and forever.

Before meeting Mia my mornings were structured, and I would cling to the routine to try not to get too emotional about what was lacking in my life. My heart would fill and flutter for the girls, but everything between Dan and myself was surface level and simply part of the routine we both followed. From 'Good morning' to 'Good night' it was a dance of technique only, no emotion, no leaps or music building to crescendo with heart stopping lifts and turns.

I sometimes failed to stop a daydream of a love, a romantic relationship that would stop my heart, make me catch my breath, but I never thought it was meant to be for me. I also could never seem to put a face on the other person in my daydream. It was more a feeling.

But it was a dangerous place to visit and the reality of missing real warmth, affection and deep knowing in my marriage would often hit so hard it would cause me heartache for hours, sometimes days and I would retreat to my parents' home until it subsided. My parents didn't ask until it started to become almost every weekend. I would turn up, eyes red from tears, that I had tried to hide from the girls. Mum suggested talking to someone, but I knew what my feelings were. I had the conversation starting with 'I want to end our marriage', or 'I want a divorce,' in my head so many times but couldn't seem to find the right moment to verbalise it.

Every time I made the decision to start the conversation my breathing became sharp and shallow, and my eyes couldn't focus. I could hear the echo in my mind of the words I was trying to form, but nothing was coming out. So, I kept backing out, unable to fight through my panic and the thoughts that I was selfish, unworthy and hating myself for the harm I thought I would cause Dan and the girls. Dan seemed to know that I was unhappy but, when he would ask me what was wrong, I would feel the panic rise again and give him an excuse about work being stressful or being tired. One morning when the girls were out with their grandparents for the day Dan tried to hug me tenderly. It had been months since we had been intimate. He placed his hand on my shoulder and gently ran it down my back as he leant in to kiss my neck. Years ago, this would have driven me wild, but it just felt wrong, and I jumped off the kitchen stool away from him and just blurted 'I can't. Dan, this isn't working. We can't stay married anymore. I want to separate'.

At first, he didn't know what to say but as sad as he was about our marriage ending, he seemed relieved when we finally talked. I knew he wasn't a bad person. He was an exceptionally good person and I think that was one of the reasons it took me so long to be honest with him and have that conversation. Even still, I worried about his reaction when I started seeing Mia, but as he saw us together, he simply said, 'Char, I'm happy, you're happy'. He was wary with the girls and Mia at first, but he saw the way the three of them connected and loved each other. He dropped them off one afternoon three weeks after Genevieve's funeral and when Mia came to the door the girls gave her hug and ran to find me. He handed Mia the girls' bags and said, 'I'm so grateful Char has found someone who loves our girls as much as we do,' Mia got a little teary as she told me about it.