Chapter Seventeen – Cici

Will hasn’t been the same ever since his friend got shot and killed, everything since then changed completely. There haven’t been any more nice moments, any happy times where we laugh and are consumed by one another, it’s all just pain and quiet. He’s shut off to me completely, his concrete walls are sky high and there isn’t any chance of me breaking them down. I’ve tried, I really have, I keep offering my support and promising my shoulder for him to cry on, my ear to listen to him, my heart to help him out, but he doesn’t want to know. I’m helpless, continually reaching out to him and getting nothing back. I know that he’s hurting, I get that, I can see the sheer pain in his eyes, but I don’t know what to do about it. At the moment, I’m trying to ride it out, but I don’t know if we can keep that up forever. I want to be there until he recovers, but I feel like he doesn’t want me around.

“Do you want anything to eat?” I ask him quietly. His entire body is spread across the couch ensuring that I can’t sit with him while he sinks another beer. I remember the times when we’d be huggled up in front of the TV, swimming in each other’s company, but those days are long gone. “I can cook if you like.”

“No, he shoots back gruffly, not even bothering to look at me. “Thanks. I’m fine. Not hungry.”

I can’t give up. I can’t keep caving at the first opportunity, I need to try. “Well, why don’t we go out? We could go and get something for dinner. We could even go to the place where we first had a date…”

This time, Will looks at me and he gives me an almost glare. “No, I don’t want to. I’ve just said to you that I’m not hungry, don’t you get that? I don’t want to go out. I’ve had such a stressful day at work.”

“Tell me about it,” I almost beg him. “Please, talk to me. I want to help you. I want to…”

He parts his lips and I half wait for him to tell me something. I keep thinking that this façade might crack at any moment and I’ll finally be given an in. I stiffen my spine and brace myself, sucking in a deep breath. But then he shatters the chance by shaking his head and turning his back on me.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I have enough of it at work, don’t I? I have to suffer it all day long, I don’t want to come home and talk to you about it too. I just want to drink and forget. That’s it.”

My eyes brim with tears. There it is again, the hint that I’m in the way. These small comments have been flying my way ever since Andre died. Nothing to force me out, but little clues that he liked living alone much better than being with me. Sometimes I tell myself that it’s the pregnancy hormones making me react to things that aren’t necessarily a problem, but then he does it again and it comes flooding back to me all over again.

I keep trying to cling to this on the happy times that are now nothing more than a memory. I don’t want to go because I gave up my apartment to live here because I was so desperate for the family unit that I wasn’t thinking sensibly. Or practically anyway. The baby is about to come and I keep thinking it might get better, but it isn’t going to, is it? Will’s mood keeps darkening and it continues to get harder. I can’t keep babying him and pussy footing around his emotions when I have a newborn baby hanging from my breast. I need to put my baby boy first. And I don’t have much longer to escape. He’ll be born soon then it’ll be impossible to get out.

I turn on my heels and I stalk into the bedroom, my heart burning with hurt and rage as I go. I can’t do this anymore, I can’t keep tiptoeing about on egg shells. I need to get somewhere that I feel safe. Will doesn’t make me feel that way anymore, I feel sad and in danger with him. His mood could explode at any given moment.

I grab my belongings and I stuff them into the nearest bag I can grab. I won’t be able to take everything, but some things will do for now. I hope Michelle will take me in, she’s half offered her spare room to me in a roundabout way anyway, I just didn’t think I would ever be the one to take it. Now I have to.

The sad thing is, Will doesn’t even come into the room to see what I’m up to. I can hear him shuffling on the couch, still swigging his beer, refusing to care what I’m doing. If this were the other way around I would be on him instantly, trying to help him through his moods. He doesn’t care about me at all, that’s clear. I’m doing the right thing by going. I need to get out of this environment before it becomes toxic. Even more so.

I storm out into the living room, pursing my lips tightly together as I go. There’s a volcano building behind my mouth and it’s about ready to flow out like poison lava at any given moment. I don’t know if I want it to really, I’m not sure I want to have this argument. I think I just want to slide away with dignity.

“I, erm…” A thick ball of emotion lodges itself in my throat. “I’m going. To Michelle’s house.”

Will rolls his eyes and pushes himself into a sitting potion. “You can’t go anywhere. I need to protect you.”

Oh, that boils my blood. “Protect me?” Yep, that comes out in my very angry voice. “You aren’t protecting me. You watch me like a hawk until it doesn’t suit anymore. As soon as work calls, you ditch me wherever I am. You don’t care about me then. You don’t care about me when I’m getting to and from work, you haven’t cared about me when I’ve been stuck here on maternity leave. You only care when it suits. Well, now it suits me to go to Michelle’s house right now because I can’t stand being here any longer. The mood is fucking terrible.”

He narrows his eyes and I can see that he’s about to explode too. “Oh, well I’m fucking sorry that I can’t be sweetness and light all the time. My friend just died, on the case that I’m working on. I’m under threat, this asshole Kingpin has made it very obvious that he’s after me, and that’s why Andre got killed. That’s what I want to save you from, I don’t want you to die as well. It’s almost as if you don’t appreciate how much I care.”

The guilt and stress rolls off him in waves. It makes me feel bad for bringing any of this up at all. Maybe I’ve been selfish trying to express my emotions when he’s clearly going through so much himself. Then again, I’m allowed to have feelings too, don’t I? “I didn’t know any of that, did I? You don’t tell me anything.”

Will stands now and he paces the room. The heat that emanates off of his body is intense. “I told you enough, you understand what I’m doing. I don’t tell you things to keep you safe.”

“Why is this Kingpin guy after you anyway? What’s so special about you? I don’t get it.”

Will’s face turns a funny purpley red shade as he balls his fists up by his side. “I don’t get it either.”

I sling the bag higher up onto my shoulder. “Well then I definitely need to get out of here. If you aren’t safe then I need to be somewhere I can protect our baby. This is stupid, I can’t believe you’ve kept me here.”

“I’ve kept you here so I can keep an eye on you! I can’t look after you if you’re somewhere else.”

“No one knows about us really, only Michelle.” Oh, and Annabelle, but since I’ve heard nothing from her in ages I guess I can assume that she isn’t interested anymore. There’s no point in bringing her up. “And no one knows that my baby is yours, so surely I’m safe? Surely, I will be better away from you.”

Will’s ragged breaths fall out of his mouth, I can tell that he’s trying to come up with a rational retort but he’s struggling. That’s because it’s dumb. I’m a burden to him. Me living in his home is making the both of us unhappy. It isn’t saving anyone, it’s just adding on stress. If I can get out of here, I can go to Michelle’s while I sort myself somewhere out. Somewhere away from here and him. That’s better for both of us.

“Right, well I think that’s decided then,” I continue deflated. “I’m off.”

I pause for just a second longer for him to reach out to me to stop me, but it seems that me and Will are on the same page for the first time in months. I hate that I’m losing my family unit, this is what I want, but if it’s like this then what’s the point? Why should I bother fighting for something that’s never going to happen? It’s a losing battle. Finally, I can see this for what it really is. It’s nothing. It’s not my fantasy.

I grip onto the door handle and I turn it slowly, trying to keep the tears inside before I escape. Once I’m in Michelle’s house, I can crumble and fall apart then, but I don’t want Will to see it.

“Oh, shit!” I cry out in shock as something very unexpected happens. “No, not yet, not now!”

I glance down, horror filling my eyes. I cannot believe it, this is just freaking typical! It’s not supposed to be right yet, I have at least a week left. This is early, I have to find a way to stop it, at least until I leave…

“What’s going on?” Will demands, instantly reaching towards his holster for his gun. “What’s happened?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s just…” I give him a hopeless look. “My waters have broken.”

“Does that mean…” All of a sudden, he sounds much less confident. “The baby…”

I nod. “Yep. The baby is coming. Now, at the worst fucking time. I have to go to the hospital.”

“Have you had no signs?” Oh God, Will is panicking. “No contractions, or whatever?”

“I’ve been in pain, but I just thought it was the stress. I didn’t realize…” No, we can’t argue the toss about this right now, it’s a waste of time. “Do you know what? Forget it, just please get me to the hospital.”

After that argument, I don’t know what Will is going to do when we get there. He might leave me to go through it alone since he doesn’t seem too concerned with our child, but that’s not my main priority. He can’t be my focus anymore, I have something new now. My baby boy is coming no matter what I want.

“Yes, I’ll get the car now.” Will’s face has lost all its color which isn’t a great sign. “You just… wait. I’ll… I’ll… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

If he’d been less preoccupied recently then he would, but there’s no point in delving into that right now. “It’s fine. Let’s just get out of here now unless you want me to give birth on your carpet. I’m sure that’s the last thing you need. The clean up will be horrible.”

He tries to laugh at my crappy joke, but he doesn’t manage it. I guess none of this is really funny…