The Dream Is Not Over

Avoidance and Apologies

As if he hears me turn off the burner all the way from in the shower, Lindsey bounds down the stairs in nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. I look up and squeal, covering my eyes.

"Lindsey, where are your clothes?!"

I peek through my fingers, waiting for a response. "At my apartment, Steph. I don't have much left here."

"You have a whole drawer of stuff. Pick something then eat with me."

"You act like you've never seen it before. We have a son, you're three months pregnant..."

"I just wasn't prepared to see so much of it!" He chuckles at me and I feel him grow closer. He takes my hands away and cradles my face in his hands.

"You're adorable. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable." He kisses my forehead and hurries up the stairs. I finally feel safe enough to uncover my eyes and plate the food. The next time I look up, Lindsey is back. "I, uh...don't have any boxers here."

"Okay?" I shrug and he scratches his neck nervously.

"No sudden movements" Once again I'm confused until he decides to do a few jumping jacks.

"My god, okay, you can stop!" I blush wildly, giggling like a little girl as he settles into a chair at the table.

"Smells good, mama" he says, seeming to forget he just jazzercised in front of me so I try to erase the memory from my mind as well.

"You look a lot better, are you feeling better?" I put his plate down in front of him and he smiles up at me.

"I do, but I think some old hair of the dog is needed to kick it completely."

"I don't have anything here. Whatever happened to you never drinking again?"

"You're right, you're right." He raises his hands in defense and I sit across from him. "You're not eating?"

"I don't feel very well."

"Morning sickness?" I nod. "You should still try. With River, eating a lot of little meals helped you."

"I remember."

"Does it not work that way this time?"

"I don't know, I think part of it is, well, you."

"If it's me, maybe I should go."

"No, don't, I want to make sure you're okay."

"Why do you care so much about how I am? I was stupid, drank too much, crashed my car outside the house and woke up with a hangover. You are pregnant and I should be taking care of you, if you want me to."

"I'm fine, Lindsey, honestly."

"And what about those dizzy spells?"

"Over."

"Good." he says, cutting into his French toast after drizzling syrup over it. "How are you feeling, considering?"

"I'm achy, tired but otherwise alright."

"And the baby?"

"I haven't gotten a chance to schedule another appointment."

"When was the last one?"

"At ten weeks for an ultrasound."

"We've come a long way since your X-ray with River to see how many babies were in there."

My hand finds my nearly undetectable bump and I smile. "We sure have."

"You look happy."

"About the baby, definitely."

"Me too."

"Really?"

"How can I not be? A baby is something to be celebrated." He slides his hand across the table and takes mine into his. Our fingers lace together perfectly and he smiles. "I am thrilled that you're pregnant and I'm so happy to be having another baby with you."

A tear spills down my cheek and I wipe it away. "Do you want orange juice?" I ask, getting up abruptly and walking over to the refrigerator. I pull out the carton and two glasses from the cabinet by the sink. I pour myself a glass first, looking up at him for a response.

He sighs. "Yeah, sure. Juice sounds great." I fill his glass and put the carton back in the fridge. I place his glass down and he thanks me. I pick at my plate sitting on the counter and take a sip of my juice. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."

"You didn't, it's okay."

"I did and it wasn't my intention. I just wanted you to know that I feel like an asshole for trying to take this baby from you, or threatening to. It was unfair of me to scare you like that, especially after I attacked you. Those bruises on your neck are from me. Your little hands barely left a mark. Even when your ring cut my lip, it fused instantly."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"But we have to. I'm sorry for how I treated you, I'm sorry for shutting you out, I'm sorry for coming here and moving my stuff out without even telling you what I was feeling. I'm sorry for going to everyone else about my feelings except the one person I should have, my wife and I'm sorry that your beautiful pregnancy had to come out like that because you were afraid that I would either hurt you so bad I'd cause a miscarriage or-or I'd kill you." He breaks down in tears and I'm drawn to him, wanting to be close. As soon as I'm within a couple of feet, he pulls me into him, wrapping his arms around me tightly. He presses his cheek to my stomach. "I'm so sorry, Stevie, I'm sorry." I stroke his hair, running my fingernails through his curls. He slides a hand through my robe, touching my bare flesh. "I'm sorry, baby. I would rather die than hurt you. I just found out about you, but I love you." Tears are once again falling down my down my face and I gasp for breath, trying to wipe them away. He looks up at me, still holding onto me as he stands up. "And I love you too, Stephanie. I have a really fucked up way of showing it but I do."

"I love you too, but I want to take this slow."

"Me too. I owe it to you for even letting me be in the same house as you after what I've done." His beautiful blue-grey eyes drop from my dark ones to my lips, then back up. He wants to kiss me, and if I'm honest, I want to kiss him too but I can't. Not yet. I create space between us, our fingers laced together and he nods. I can tell he understands, even if it hurts him a little. "Thanks for breakfast, Steves, it was delicious."

"You're welcome." He manages a smile, hearing the love and warmth in my reply. Our hands separate slowly, and our gaze is locked for lingering moment. "You're always welcome."