BURN (Wattys2015?)

everything i have left

"I want to have a baby," she says, abruptly.

It's a usual evening for us, lying on my bed, mindlessly binge-watching cable television. Today was a little more special, since we were sharing a quart of ice cream. A quarter of it was already gone when we started on it, and now it was nearly empty. The bucket rested on my chest, and Margo rested her head in my lap. 

The spoon nearly fell out of my mouth and onto her head, but I caught it. The ice cream didn't taste as sweet anymore, and when I swallowed it it didn't go down the right pipes. After I finished coughing, Margo regarded me with an amused expression.

"That's not the reaction I expected," She shook her head, grinning. "You're supposed to say, 'Oh, I'd love to.'"

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand (a habit Margo hated), and smiled. "Well, you don't even want to have sex with me, so I don't know how you expect to have a baby with me." I tease.

She blushes and punches my arm lightly, her bony knuckles digging into my shoulder. "You know I just mean until marriage." She sits up and snuggles into my side. I put my arm around her. Everything with us is a platonic habit, nothing feels new or exciting. I wonder sometimes why we're together, besides the obvious reasons. 

I grab her hand and twist it so the glittering ring blinks in our eyes. 

"Well, look right there. Is that an engagement ring?" I widen my eyes and open my mouth in mock surprise. "Looks like we're getting married." I bury my face into her neck, kissing her. 

She pushes me away, laughing. "I just don't want to be one of those couples who wait years until we start a family, you know? I want to start as soon as possible. Maybe three or six months after the wedding?" Her eyes get a faraway look. I hate the dreamy look on her face. It's so..hopeful.

I scoot away and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. I stare at the ugly carpet. I hate my carpet. 

She creeps closer behind me, gingerly laying a hand on my shoulder. She says my name softly.

"What's wrong?" She asks. "Are you afraid...that...you can't have any children, or something? Because, sometimes I wonder the same thing. Ballet keeps me very thin, so I know it'll be harder to for me to get pregnant."

"No," I sigh. "I'm not worried. I just...never mind, let's not talk about this." I'm thinking of a little French girl, and I wonder what's she's doing and how she is. It'd be nice to receive a call every now and then, but I have no doubts she's forgotten me by now. Besides, I asked them not to call.

"Are you mad?" Her voice is timid. I can sense her start to shrink into herself.

I won't look at her. Instead, I look at the ugly carpet. "Why would I be mad?" My voice comes out more bitter than I wanted. She wouldn't understand. And I won't give her the chance.

"Because I won't...with you." She stumbles over the words. "Don't you know why, though? I know you don't love me. Not like my future husband should. But I love you anyway. Don't you realize that? I've given up so much to be with you. I've tried so hard to get you to love me. But you just won't love me, no matter what. Don't you realize I've given you everything? My life, my time, my love, my education...everything. There's only one thing I haven't given you yet, and that's just because I'm clinging to it with dear life." She pauses, and I stare hard at her in surprise. Her face is pale, and her eyes are wide and afraid. She doesn't cry, though. I have a feeling she's all cried out. "I can't give you...that yet. It's all I have left. Yet, I know that you'll get it in the end. Because you always get...everything."

Her eyes are infinitely sad. She stares off into space as she finishes speaking. It's like she's not even talking to me anymore.

I open my mouth, then close it. A tense and depressed silence chokes us both.

Finally, I speak.

"That's--" I stumble over my words. "I wasn't mad at all. That's...that's not even...No, I wasn't--that's not what I meant at all, Margo." 

And I wonder if I should tell her what I meant.