Robert slept on the couch, partly because I'd asked him to. Mainly, I did it in a fit of rage and hurt, and I really wished I hadn't. But he also felt bad, which I have mixed feelings about. When I woke up in the morning, early, I went out and sat on the arm of the couch next to his head. I played idly with his curly hair, waiting for him to wake up.
When he woke up, he looked at me with his red, puffy eyes. "Hey," he murmured and rubbed his face.
"Hi," I said softly. "I'm sorry," I sighed, "I know this is hard on you."
"It's not exactly easy for you, either."
"Yeah," I agreed and then shrugged. He, after a moment, shot up and left my hand hanging where his head was.
"I still can't believe—" he sighed and bit his lip, thinking for a second. "I can't believe you were going to get an abortion."
"Jesus, we're back to this," I rolled my eyes and stood up.
"Yeah, we're back to this," he scoffed. "We're supposed to be doing this together. I mean, what's the point of us being married if we're not both included in decisions?"
"Oh, okay," I pursed my lips and held my hands out. "I'm thinking about painting my nails soon, how do we feel about that?"
"That's so—"
"Robert, it's both of us, we need to do this together." He sighed and turned his back to me in frustration. "Yeah, no matter what it's my body and I wasn't going to carry that child if it was going to kill me, I don't care what you say. Unless the kid that probably wouldn't have survived either is more important."
"Don't do that," he shook his head and turned toward me again. "Don't fucking do that."
"Why not? Isn't that what you're saying?"
"No! You're putting words in my mouth!"
"Then say what you mean, I can't keep guessing!"
At this point we had both raised our voices. We were both so furious at the other, and neither of us really knew how to deal with what happened.
"I understand you're hurt, Robert, I really do," I nodded and lowered my voice. "But, seriously, you need to know that I can't put you first. I have to put myself first, because this literally could've been life or death. You literally could've lost me and the possible child. Is that what you want?"
"You know I don't want that."
"Then just god damn trust me that I know what would've happened. Call it instinct, call it having common sense: I don't care. But I know what would've happened." He paused and looked at the floor. "Remember that feeling in the camps? That you knew you were going to die because no one knows where you are, no one has records of you, and no one knows what's going on. You didn't have a real explanation why, you just knew. I had that feeling now, and you just need to trust me."
He took a deep breath and sighed. "You're right, I'm sorry. I'm—" he sighed again and came closer to me. "I never really learned how to apologize right," he admitted and looked at the floor. "I'm a stubborn son-of-a-bitch, aren't I?"
"Ah," I groaned and waved a dismissive hand. "We both are, let's admit that right now."
That got a laugh out of him, which made me smile. With a quick kiss, I decided that we needed to go and do something. We ended up seeing a movie together and getting something to eat.
My job had been going well, I was paid fairly well and it kept me busy. But I also made some great friends, which was something I realized I missed out during my time in the military: female friends. I love being around my guys, but there's something amazing about being around people who just get the basics of who you are, though. I still was in a weird place because none of them were obviously German like I was, but it was better than nothing.
"Ugh," one of them groaned over lunch one day. "I have to go to New Jersey this week. Apparently Ken's family is more important than mine over Christmas."
The weather was cold outside and more and more Christmas decorations were popping up. I always hated this time, because I knew I was going to get asked what I was doing for the holiday. My first instinct was, still, to lie about it.
Another one of the girls, Janie, looked at me while picking at her salad. "I get to stay here," she pretended to gloat. "What're you doing?" she looked at me.
They knew I was German, but nothing else.
"Um," I sighed and wiped my pals on my skirt. I hated being forced to wear one due to the dress code. "Well—uh—"
"It's okay," the original girl, Marie, encouraged. "We aren't gonna judge you."
"Well, I don't exactly have any family, so for holidays I go to my husband's family events."
"What do you mean? Like, they kicked you out?"
"Um—no—" I kind of started to panic. "I..." I breathed and decided I was going to tell them the truth. They're friends, so I should, right? "You know I'm German," I started. They nodded. "Well—I had to leave Germany without my family to survive, and I know a few of my siblings died, and my Father was taken to a concentration camp when I was young. Otherwise...I have no idea where my family is now. Um—actually—I served in the war. I fought in the army when I ended up stuck around them. That's how I met my husband, Robert."
Their mouths hung open. Should I have told them all that? Probably not.
"You served in the war?" I nodded. "No way! How did we not know that? Were you the first woman to do that?"
"Oh, I don't know," I smiled nervously. "But—anyway—the point of that was that I'm Jewish, so I don't really celebrate Christmas."
"Oh!" they nodded. "Well, honestly, I think it doesn't matter what you are, because you're strong as hell," Marie patted my arm.
I muttered a thank you when Janie spoke up. "Don't they give military people, like, free college and jobs and stuff? What're you doing here around these creepy perverts and not taking those benefits?"
"Well, not a lot of places will hire me because I have an accent. It was really thick before, especially."
"Crazy," Janie muttered.
It was a Friday night, and I was getting ready for a night out. It was Robert's cousin's birthday and we and his whole family were going out for dinner. She was turning 16 and decided that she wanted all of us to celebrate at her favorite restaurant. It went well, and Robert's cousin asked if she could spend the night with us tonight. It was a weekend, so we let her.
Eventually the 8-year-old went to bed and we were left on the couch, just talking. At around midnight or so I fell asleep, and when I woke up I had a small child sitting on me.
"Hey," I laughed groggily and kissed her on the cheek. "Go make Robert make you breakfast, okay?" With a giggle, she ran off and left me there, smiling. I wondered what it would be like to have one of our own.
"Who's asking?" I heard Robert ask in the other room. I wasn't in a joking way towards his cousin, either.
"Robert?" I called and stretched as I stood, "what's going on?"
"Nothing, babe, don't worry!" he called back. I didn't trust that, so I went to see what was going on.
"Marta?"the figure in the doorway gasped, trying to look past Robert desperately.
