"Ha!" She laughs, but not a trace of humor is to be found in her features.
"Do you want a baby or not!" I yell. I can feel my veins pumping with adrenaline. All I wanted was a nice nap and she's pulling the theatrics.
"What?" Her eyes go wide and she stares at me blankly.
"You heard me! Do you want a baby or not, because if you do, just say it and I'll knock you up!"
"What?" She asks. She's paled and she looks almost sick.
"Would you knock that off?" I lower my voice. "You want a baby?"
"Um," her voice waivers and she starts crying again. Oh hell. I can't win for losing here. "With you?" She asks through the tears. I can't tell if she's hopeful or disgusted. In order to spare my ego, I decide to go with the former.
"No," I smile, trying to stop the damn waterworks, "with the mail man." She laughs. A real fucking laugh; and I know we're going to be okay.
"We have a mail lady," Colleen quips. I roll my eyes. Hot and cold all the time; Colleen can't pick a mood and stick with it
"Come on, pretty girl," I whine, "quit bustin' my balls, will ya?" She giggles and buries her face in my chest. So she's shy all of a sudden? Hm.
"You're not mad at me?" she asks.
"For what?" I stare at her dumbly. Again, I'm slow on the uptake. "Oh, no actually, this was part of my plan," I laugh, trying to make her feel better. "I think I'll keep you," I smirk.
"You want to keep me?" her head pops up. She's looking at me like I just invented chocolate or something else she'd really like. Hm, for once it seems I've said the right thing.
"Of course, I love you," I blurt out without thinking. She looks like she's been shot in the butt with a pellet gun. This isn't good. This isn't how this was supposed to happen.
"Uh," she says. She's stopped breathing and hasn't moved her eyes from mine.
"Colleen,” I ask.
"Huh?" she says, looking appropriately stunned. Of course she doesn't know what to say. I'm her best friend. I'm not REALLY a husband, I guess. I feel like a fool. These past few weeks I'd allowed myself to believe that there was more to our relationship than just friendship.
"You... love... me?" she mutters. I wish she knew how much I love her. I wish I could tell her. My mouth keeps opening and closing of its own volition, but nothing comes out.
"Yeah," I say, staring into her eyes, imploring some kind of sign that she could possibly love me, too. Even if it's a little bit, I'll take it. I feel a moment of hope before my world shatters.
"Oh," she whispers. Her mouth opens and then closes and opens again. She doesn't know what to say. I don't blame her. She can't help it if she doesn't feel the same way. I feel like throwing up. If I don't do something, I'll have completely ruined what little bit I have with her.
Her mouth opens and in a moment of panic, I rush to talk over her.
"As a friend," I lie and laugh lightly. Through my own voice, I hear hers.
"I love you, too," she says and then laughs. There's a moment where I think she's serious. Or maybe I'm hearing things. And then it passes and it's gone so quickly that I think it never happened.
"As a friend," she clarifies. I laugh a little more, forcing myself not to fall apart. I've loved this woman my entire life; and this is what's come of it. A lifetime's worth of disappointments fester in my gut, threatening to spill out. The laughter that comes from her sends my lunch to my throat and I rush from the bed to the bathroom where I expel my breakfast.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
(Colleen)
You want a baby?
I WANT, MORE than anything, to rewind the last five minutes of my life.
I want to strike the entire conversation from memory.
I want out of this house.
For a split second I had it all. I had a career. I had a beautiful husband. I was in love. Deeply in love. And I was loved in return. And then with three little words, I had nothing. For a split second, Brad loved me. Or so I thought.
"As a friend," he said just as I had gotten up the nerve to tell him that I love him, too. I must have looked like the biggest idiot.
And to top it off, it wasn't until Brad was holding me in his arms, asking me if I want a baby, that I really knew what I want and where I belong, and who with. I belong with Brad. I always have, but it seems that I am an idiot because it's only taken me thirty-five years to really believe it.
Hearing Brad say he loves me was indescribable. I wish I could capture the feeling in a bottle so that I'll always remember it.
I want out of this room.
I just want to hide in my misery. I close my eyes and shove my face in my pillow as the tears pour out of my eyes. Soon enough, I move from the acceptable "I'm hurting" cry to the all-out, balls-to-the-wall-ugly-cry. And breathing is difficult; not that I care much about breathing at this moment.