How it is

Chapter four:

I'm in love with the shape of you,

Push and pull like a magnet do,

Although my heart is falling too,

I'm in love with your body.

Christina's POV:

After two weeks of being apart from Owen, everything was so much better.

Owen and I had worked out a system of who got Scarlet at what times and who had to pick her up or drop her off at what times. We were both adults about it, and Owen seemed happier.

I knew for a fact that I was happier.

I was less stressed out; I didn't dread going home at night anymore. I was more carefree and relaxed, less uptight and cranky, and I was just overall in a better mood. Having Owen gone made me feel so much better about myself and my job and about how Scarlet was being raised. I was happy that my baby would be raised right, and not in a house full of screaming and arguments.

But with that said, I was also doing worse.

I missed Owen so much; seeing him this happy and being this happy myself made me remember when we were perfect together, it made me remember all the reasons why I was so in love with Owen. For the first time in a year, I saw the Owen I fell so head over heels in love with and I had hope that we would make it, that we would be together forever and always.

It hit me the most, how much I missed him, at night. It was always at night. When Scarlet was tucked away soundly in bed and the house was lonely, I'd crawl into bed and miss the warmth of him next to me; his side of the bed was so cold, and it was foreign for me to be waking up in the middle of the bed, alone, instead of tucked away safely on my own side, warm and loved.

Even when the fighting was at its worst, Owen never slept on the couch and neither did I. Because sleeping with him next to me made everything feel better; even on the nights when we slept with our backs to each other, I still felt better knowing he was there, that I wasn't alone.

But then there were the nights when we'd scream at each other for hours, our throats would be raw and we'd both be so exhausted. Neither of us would have the energy to stay mad after the yelling subsided, and when I'd crawl into bed next to him, I'd roll into his arms and he'd wrap them around me, our legs would intertwine together and his head would rest comfortably in the crook of my neck, soothing me to sleep with the sound of his constant, steady breathing.

It's safe to say that after all of this, after everything we've been through, I was still so in love with Owen it was pathetic. And I was terrified of being without him.

~

"Christina, can we talk for a moment please?" Owen asked me one morning, after I'd checked on all my rounds and was settled in the attending's lounge with a cup of coffee waiting for my first surgery of the morning.

"Of course, is anything wrong?" I ask, laying down my coffee and turning to face him. We'd been doing a decent bit of talking lately, not that I minded, and I was always ready to hear what he had to say.

"It's been two weeks; I know most people stay separated for longer, but I was wondering if maybe we could try having me back in the house?" He asked, hopefully but still hesitantly, as if he didn't know how I'd react.

I thought for a moment; as much as I missed him, I needed to know that things were going to be different this time around, and I felt like that meant we needed more time to talk and work things out rather than jumping right back into it.

"Owen, I miss you" I tell him "but I can't go back to the way things were, I refuse to. I think we need a couple more weeks just to talk and work on our communication skills and try to solve the problems we've been having that made our marriage so miserable in the first place"