Twelve Months

February

Having overslept again, Michael hurriedly tied his laces while he sat on their couch. He pushed himself up and shook his legs, letting his pants fall to rest on his polished footwear. He reached for his jacket on the back of the couch and shoved his arms into the sleeves as he moved for the doorway. Sara watched him from the kitchen, a mug of steamy coffee resting below her bottom lip, condensing hot vapour onto her smile.

It was her fault Michael was late. Again. Pregnancy, if anything, really did wreak havoc on your hormones, especially those that caused her a pleasure, tension and want so intense she was never sated. Michael paused briefly by the counter top and pulled a piece of cold, dry toast from a plate next to Sara. She watched him intently, taking a sip of her beverage and flashing him a smile. Michael caught her beaming at him and his mouth flexed into a crooked smile.

"What are you smiling at?" he pried, taking a bite of the toast and munching the crusty substance in his mouth. It was brittle and hard to swallow on its own, so he reached out for Sara's coffee, which she relinquished willingly with an innocent grin. His eyes never left hers over the white mug as he took a gulp and pushed the toast down his throat.

"Aren't you forgetting something today?" she implied, taking her coffee back from him and rested it on her bump. Michael's face was blank and his bottom lips pursed out while his eyes rolled towards the ceiling, his face contemplating the day. His head began to shake seriously and his eyes met Sara's again.

"Am I?" Michael asked her, frozen before her adjusting his tie so the knot slid into place hiding his top button. His mouth was slightly ajar as his lungs sucked in breath he needed from his energetic rush to get ready, and Sara stared at him dumbfounded before placing her half full mug to the white tiled counter. Her elated smile left her face and was replaced with a quick flash of a forced one.

Sara's eye darted behind Michael to where his workbag rested against the telephone table. Sara reached out her delicate hands and smoothed out some creases on his finely pressed white shirt and leant forward, planting a quick kiss to his lips. Confused by her sudden depression, Michael shot her a questioning glance. "Don't forget your bag," she pointed towards the table and his eyes followed her finger.

Michael's feature spread into a thankful grin and he captured her lips in a kiss once more. His palms flattened out over her distended stomach and he rubbed at it idly before their lips parted. "Thanks," he told her quickly before bounding for the door. He threw his heavy bag over his shoulder. His laptop inside was the bulk of the weight, but he also carried important papers and some blueprints with him.

Michael rested his hand on the handle of the door before he turned to Sara once more, a frown upon his face as he struggled to remember something important. Sara's face lit up when she thought he might of remembered the day, but it was all in vain when his lips parted and he spoke. "What time are you home form work today?" he asked her, eagerly turning the handle of the door and pulling it free from its frame.

Sara's heart sank inside of her chest but on the outside she faked another smile. "Four Thirty," she told him resting her hands to her aching spine that had arched under the weight of carrying their son. Michael smiled at her once more before disappearing through the doorway and pulling the door closed behind him.

Sara's lips vibrated against each other as she pushed air from her mouth frustrated. She lifted her coffee from the counter and pressed the rim to her lips, inhaling the scent of the bitter liquid as she drank it. Her eyes caught the calendar that hung in their kitchen, the space next to February 14th – Valentines Day – left complete blank where they had made no reservation for dinner, a movie or anything. The clock next to the calendar ticked loudly in the silent kitchen, catching Sara's attention and alerting her to the time.