Mary's Bones

TWENTY-THREE

"Babe, go to sleep." John's hair brushed my face as he turned his head. I could now see his face from the moon's silver streak that peeked in through the curtains on him. He slid his arm over my waist, locking his hand in the other, which cuffed my bottom. I could feel his breath fanning my cheeks.

"I didn't know you were still awake," I admitted. There was a brief moment of silence as he shuffled against the mattress. His breath was no longer touching my skin. And he was now hovering above me, his elbow digging in the mattress for balance.

"Yeah, that's because you're still awake and if you're still awake, that means you're worried about something"—he eyes slowly pried open—"what's on your mind?"

"It's nothing. I just can't sleep," I replied. My bullshit was obvious.

He rubbed at his eyes and let out a loud scoff. "It's nothing, my ass. Please? Tell me?" His lips met my knuckles as he slid my hand into his.

The urge to spill everything out was bubbling inside. John could help me. He was just as close to the case as Cory was. But I settled with my gut. Even with all the information I'd gathered in the past month or so, I hadn't felt any closer to unveiling the truth. Telling him could risk it all. As selfish as that sounded. I wasn't blind to police procedures. Everything was by the books. I wasn't playing by the books.

With a sigh, I lifted myself up until I was sitting crisscrossed beside him. He copied my movements and made direct eye contact with me.

"I'm scared," I blurted.

He tilted his head, studying me. "Scared?"

I breathed in and released. "Yes, the truth is, that I'm scared. I'm scared of what's to come in this parenting thing. I'm scared of becoming a mother in the next few months. I'm just scared and stressing over things I shouldn't be stressing over."

"Angie, you aren't getting cold feet on me and Rosemary now, are you?" John chuckled. But he stopped when he saw my face. I felt his palms against my cheeks as he leaned in closer. "Talk to me. What's wrong? I want to help."

"I don't know how to explain it. I've been thinking about what's been going on for the past few weeks. How can we bring Rosemary into this world and ensure her safety? How can we promise her a healthy life?

"The children that go missing every day. The crime that we see on TV all the time. The drama that we witness everywhere. Knowing you put your life at risk every day and you could be gone just like Cory the next—"

"Hey, hey. Angie, stop it. What did we talk about before? We're going to do everything we can to ensure that doesn't happen." John shook his head with a frown. "And remember what we promised each other? If worse comes to worst, we'll figure it out like we always do. If you keep overthinking everything before she gets here, nothing good will ever come from it."

I pried his hands off my cheeks, scowling. "But it's true!"

He tensed at my outburst but allowed me to finish.

I threw my hands in the air, and let them fall to my lap. "You can't sit here and tell me it's not true. We're not promised tomorrow, John. So, what the hell am I supposed to think? That you'll always return home to me? You're only one step closer to death every day you step out those doors. Not everything is rainbows and shit. Anything can happen!"

His mouth hung open, clearly at a loss for words.

He swallowed, stuttering, "Angie, where i-is this coming from all of a sudden? I'm not saying everything'll be rainbows and shit," he quoted me with his fingers, "nor am I saying nothing can happen to me or either of us. Of course, we can't control what happens.