My Valentine

Seventeen

Nightengale Phillips

I made an effort to shift a little on the couch to find a bit of comfort, but flinched as Brooklyn cuddled his face even closer to my crotch.

Why did I find this situation so awkward? Marshall, whose lap was covered with his son's lower half had just ejected a DVD disk (apparently, people were still using DVDs) and was browsing through the various channels on the television.

He settled on CNN and I can honestly say I had absolutely no interest in current affairs, but right now, anything was better than looking him in the eyes and telling him I'd seen his wife that evening.

I'd been struggling for a long time to find a away to tell him that I'd seen Lisa at the barbecue and I was probably being foolish, but for some reason, I was scared that if I mentioned Lisa's name, I'd see something in his eyes that told me what I probably already knew. There was a reason why Marshall still hadn't legally divorced his wife and whatever that reason was, I would've certainly been displeased by it.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked me for the millionth time since I left Berry's house to have a movie night with Brooklyn.

"I'm fine, really. I just..."

Come on Nightengale! You have got to stop being so insecure!

"I saw Lisa at Berry's parents' barbecue this afternoon, Marshall." That got his attention away from the T.V. His blue eyes pierced through mine and I saw the disbelief that was beginning to arise in them.

What?

"You couldn't have possibly seen her because she's still in the hospital."

I shook my head, resting my back against the sofa's armrest, so I was able to look at him directly.

"I think I'd know your wife Marshall. I have to look at the photograph of her on the table in the hall almost everyday!" I whispered, semi-harshly. I was still working on controlling the temper tantrums I'd struggled with since I was a kid.

He probably sensed a pinch of jealousy in my tone, because he lowered his eyes in what I'd classify as shame.

"I've been meaning to remove it-"

I cut him off. "You don't have to do anything because of me Marshall. Please, keep the photograph of your wife for however long as you please."

"You've never seemed to have a problem with the picture before Nightengale. I-"

"Just...forget about it. The point is, you think you have to keep tabs on your beloved for some reason I really don't want to decipher, but let me just say, you're not doing such a bang up job."

The infuriated look on his face told me he was torn between irritation that I kept interrupting him and perhaps guilt.

We both knew what he was guilty about, but it would have killed me if I acknowledged it at the time.

"I literally spoke to Lisa at the party. I have no reason to lie."

Gently removing Brooklyn's head from my lap and placing it on the area I'd just gotten up from, I watched him copy my actions.

"She's not my 'beloved' Nightengale, at least not anymore. Things are just...complicated between us." He reached down to take my hand, but I brushed him off.

"Then why do you find it so hard to believe me?" He folded his arms and I tried not to pay attention to his bulging biceps.

Hormones! I do not need you to screw me over right now!