The world suddenly seems small. It's confined to what they have to do...putting their heads down and pushing through because there doesn't seem to be any other choice. Everything else quickly becomes background.
He puts out his decision to retire on the 15th of March and a few days before, Taylor miscarries naturally at home while they're together. The actual tangible pain, she lets him know, through cramps, doesn't touch the sadness, and softly, her head in his lap, she confesses she feels like she let him down.
Travis knows better than anyone that grief isn't always logical and quite often, it gives way to self-blame. There's nothing he can say or do that won't sound piteous, so he has to settle for the truth.
"Never in a million years could you let me down, Tay. Not possible."
That's it, that's all he has to offer because no amount of "it'll be okay," is going to make everything magically better. There's an end in sight but here on their bed, wrapped up in Tay's favorite flannel blanket, guiding her through each fresh surge of agony, it seems beyond reach.
His reply earns a soft groan, and she closes her eyes, breathing into the pain through gritted teeth.
"This wasn't how it was supposed to be."
"I know, love. I know."
He pushes her sweat-soaked bangs from her face, taking a damp cloth and wiping her brow, moving it to rest against her neck.
"Mmm," she mutters faintly. "That feels good."
"I can go re-wet it if you---"
"No. Please don't go."
Swallowing hard, Travis nods. "I'm not going anywhere. You and me, remember? Can't get rid of me."
His lips press briefly to the nape of her neck and to his surprise, she twists in his arms to look at him.
Her eyes aren't glazed as he might have expected them to be, rather the color they are tightens his chest. He's never seen them so blue and clear in their depths. Steady, and focused on what she has to do.
This isn't going to break them.
The thought is internal but comes through loud and clear. It gives him comfort in helplessness. It's something to cling to and Taylor's strength is another. He's no dummy---he knows she's a warrior; he's seen it with his own eyes on multiple occasions but to be a first-hand witness to the extent now is another thing entirely.
There's more I should be doing, he worries at first, something more productive than holding her through the peak of the cramping.
It isn't long before he realizes that is what Tay needs from him, it's that simple. His physical presence, his soft words of love in lieu of reassurance. He doesn't want to fuck up, doesn't want to hurt her any more than she's hurting now, so he follows his instincts, instincts that Jason praises him for on the regular. He knows what to do and he does it.
"Hey."
She sounds exhausted and he leans in to listen. "I just want you to know it's okay. Don't let your focus on me make you feel you can't cry or...or get upset. Travis. I know it's hurting you, too."
He brings his fingers to interlock with hers. "I wanna be here for you."
Taylor shakes her head, exhaling sharply and letting it sit in the air. "You are. But I don't want you to ignore how you feel. Please."
Her quiet imploration has him nodding, his lips to her forehead in a featherlight kiss. "This sucks."
At that she chuckles dryly. "Yeah, it really fucking does."
