#tw arguing

He slowly opened the door to find you curled in the corner of the bathroom, arms wrapped around your legs and pulling them to your chest. Your face was red and puffy, your lips twitching as you tried to breathe.

“I…got my period.” You mumbled.

Jack hung his head with a sigh. He slowly got down on the floor next to you, pulling you into his arms. Once you were safely pressed into his chest, the sobs became feral. Like him holding you gave you permission to be hysterical.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” He murmured into your hair.

“Th-the stupid part was…I was convinced I felt different! Like…I was…” You held onto him tighter.

“It’ll happen. When the time is right, it’ll happen.” He tried to be comforting, knowing there wasn’t much to be done in that regard.

You two had been trying to get pregnant for a year. Well, a little over. Around a year and a half ago, you got pregnant. It was an accident, not planned. But you were so excited and Jack was beyond happy.

But you woke up one night, alone, in a pool of your own blood. You had only known for a little over two weeks. You were happy for two weeks.

You had cleaned yourself up, tears streaming down your face, and drove yourself to PTMC. When you walked in, looking like hell, everyone knew. Jack had been in a patient’s room. You’d never forget the look on his face when he came out with a smile and the realization hit. It made you want to vomit.

You didn’t want to try again for a while. The pain was too fresh. Jack gave you space, never pushing you.

When you felt ready, you assumed it wouldn’t be difficult. I mean, you hadn’t even been trying the first time. You gave yourself three months. That’s what everyone told you to do. Don’t panic for three months.

When six months rolled around and you were left with nothing to show for it, you were panicking.

Jack assumed it was him. He was older and had been through enough physical trauma to bring down anyone. Not to mention the chemicals he’d been exposed to, not just in the military. Plus the decades of radiation at work. He knew it was him.

The shock on his face when the doctor told him that he was fine, above average, almost made you laugh. But in that same breath, you realized it was you. Something was wrong with you. Jack hated it when you phrased it that way.

You didn’t even realize you had PCOS. When the fertility doctor told you, you looked at her like she was insane. You had no symptoms. Apparently, there are a lot of asymptomatic PCOS patients.

Now, you and Jack have alarms set on your phone for your Metformin pill. Every day, you downed the pill and made a silent prayer to whoever was listening. Every day, Jack watched you break a little more.

The trash was filled with too many negative tests. The cabinet was stocked with pads that you knew you would have to use. The office remained an office, never changing into the nursery that you dreamed it would transform into. It was all too much.

“I think…I think you’re putting too much stress on yourself.” Jack ventured into dangerous territory.

“What do you expect?” You hissed as you sat up.

“Honey, I don’t want to make this worse. I’m just worried.” Jack sighed.

“This isn’t fair!” You scream as you scramble up from the floor and stomp out of the bathroom.

Jack sat for a moment, debating whether following you would help or hurt. He sat with his own grief for a moment. He pushed himself up from the floor with a grunt and made his way into the bedroom. You were aggressively putting the laundry away, needing to do something with your hands but not sure what. The tears kept falling as you folded the clothes.

“It’s not fair. You deserve to be the mother that you’re meant to be.” He stood watching you, your shoulders shaking.

“It’s bad enough that I’m not pregnant, but to have to deal with my fucking period on top of it!? I’m going insane!” You growled.

“I know. I wish I could do more.” Jack sighed.

“Jesus, Jack! Stop patronizing me!” You hissed; the words came from somewhere deep. A place you didn’t know existed. You started to regret them, but you looked up at him, and saw the confusion on his face, and it made your stomach churn with more anger.

“I’m not. I don’t mean to. I’m just trying to help.” His voice was clipped, trying to settle his own anger.

“I see the way you look at me. Like I’m some…hysterical woman that needs to be handled.” You grimaced.

“Don’t. Do not put words into my mouth. I would never think that.” Jack's body went rigid, the anger was rising in both of you.

“You get to just go about your life like everything is fine, while I have to carry all of this!” You threw the shirt in your hand back into the basket.

“I’m hurting too! I’m grieving too! I want this just as much as you do!” Jack’s voice boomed throughout the house.

“Fuck off! Don’t act like you know what this feels like!” You sobbed as you stomped into your closet, grabbing an old gym bag.

“I don’t know what it physically feels like to have a miscarriage or the physical toll of infertility. I do know what it feels like to lose a pregnancy. I know what it feels like to have a body that fails you. I know how hard that is.” Jack growled.

“Fuck you!” You sobbed as you shoved clothes into the bag. You stomped into the bathroom, shoving your toiletries into the bag.

“What are you doing?” Jack sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I can’t be in this house right now. I’m going to my brother’s.” You grumble as you push past Jack.

“What? Don’t go. Not right now!” Jack rushed after you.

“I need space! I need…I can’t do this.” You wiped the tears from your face as you put on your jacket.

“Honey. Don’t do this. Stay. Talk to me, please.” He begged.

“You need space too.” You mumbled as you grabbed your keys. Jack caught your wrist.

“I’m sorry. Please.”

“Do you even know what you're sorry for?” You looked at him with an anger he had never seen before.

“I…I…”

“Get off me.” You seethed as you yanked your wrist from his grasp and marched out the door.

“Fuck!” Jack screamed as he kicked the trash can.

You thought that you would calm down on the drive over, but if anything, the silence of the car made it worse. By the time you pulled into Robby’s driveway, you could barely breathe.

You didn’t knock, just made your way inside.

The sounds of your desperate sobs and wheezing must have scared the shit out of him. You heard the frantic footsteps coming from his office as you gripped onto the coatrack, hunched over and gasping for breath.

“Whoa! What’s going on?” Robby rushed over to you, a hand on your back. “Hey, stand up straight. Come on.” He pulled you up straight and stripped the coat from you, tossing it on the ground.

“I can’t-I can’t…”

“Come here,” he sat you on the stairs. “You need to control your breathing. Deep breath, slow down.” He coached you into a normal breathing rhythm.

“Chest hurts.” You whined.

“Well, you probably pulled a muscle with all that sobbing. You’re okay. Nice pink nail beds. I’m not worried.” He said as he examined you. “Do you need me to call Jack?”

“No.” Your lip quivered.

“Ah.” Robby nodded. “I’m guessing you need the spare bed.” He looked at your gym bag.

“We fought. We’ve never fought like that. It was bad.” You tried to take a deep breath.

“You want to talk about it or do you want to get drunk?” He asked.

“Get drunk.” You mumbled.

“Okay. I’ll get the wine.”

“Get the vodka.” You hummed as you made your way to the living room.

You curled into the corner of the couch, wrapping yourself in all the blankets available. You wanted to bury yourself. Maybe you wanted to suffocate; you couldn’t tell. Robby came in with a scotch for himself and a fizzing glass for you.

“It’s vodka and sprite. Don’t have any of those syrups you like.” He handed you the glass.

“Thanks.” You took a sip and grimaced at the burn.

“So,”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You interrupted.

“Sure. But do you need to?” Robby sipped his scotch.

“I got…I got my period today. I’m not handling it well. Jack took the brunt of it.” You felt the sting of tears and cringed at the feeling, angrily willing them away.

“Oh. Shit. I’m sorry, Bunny.” Robby sighed as he leaned back into the couch.

“Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe I shouldn’t be a mother.” You took a big swig of your drink.

“No. Absolutely not. You are not going to fall down that rabbit hole. Maybe, you need to change up your treatment. Have you talked with your doctor?” Robby wasn’t used to seeing you so fragile. You were tough and stubborn and strong in ways he never could be. Seeing you so lost made him worried.

“She won’t change anything until the next appointment. Says I need to give it time. It’s been three months of nothing since our last change.” You were frustrated beyond belief.

“Maybe you two should take some time off. Go stay in a nice hotel, relax. Stress is a big part of infertility.”

“I know! I know all of that! I think I might be more qualified than you on the subject!” You barked.

“Whoa! If you’re going to bite my head off, I’ll kick your ass to the curb!” Robby yelled back.

“I’m just so tired of men thinking they understand this more than me!” You wiped harshly at your eyes.

“So, that’s what landed Jack in the dog house.” Robby nodded.

“He acts like he gets this, like he understands how much it hurts.” You sniffled.

“I think he hurts, it might not be the same, but he’s in pain, too.” Robby sipped his scotch and waited for you to explode.

“What do you mean?” You looked up at him, confused.

“Bunny, you aren’t the only person grieving in all of this.” Robby made lazy patterns in the condensation on his glass.

“I know that.” You scoff.

“I don’t think you do. He does a pretty good job at hiding it from you because he thinks that’s what you need. When you lost the baby…I maybe shouldn’t tell you this.” Robby sighed, taking a drink.

“Michael, tell me.”

“Once he got you settled, once you had finally gone to sleep, he came over here. He broke down. He barely made it through the doorway. I had to drag him to the couch; he couldn’t keep his knees from buckling. I’ve seen him go through a lot. I’ve never seen him like that. He lost just as much as you did that day. He didn’t think it was his place to grieve the way you got to.” Robby watched your heartbreak again.

You knew he had felt the loss, that it broke him. You didn’t realize how far he had fallen. He was so focused on taking care of you. You were so lost in the grief that was drowning you, you couldn’t see he was barely treading water.

“Fuck.” You mumbled as you drank down the rest of your glass.

“Jesus, Bunny. Slow down.” Robby chuckled.

“I messed up.” You sighed. “We both did. But me more than him.”

“It happens. Let me get the spare room set up, then you should get some sleep. You look like shit.” Robby got up and went upstairs.

You went into the downstairs bathroom, splashing some water on your face. You didn’t feel like yourself anymore. You dug around in the medicine cabinet and poured two tablets of Tylenol PM into your hand and downed them. You wanted to be as unconscious as possible without going into respiratory distress.

“You okay?” Robby appeared in the doorway.

“No. Who is?” You scoffed.

“Fair point. Especially in this house.” He smirked. “Bed’s all yours. You need anything?”

“Just want to pass out.” You hummed. You wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you, warmth shielding you. For a moment you felt like a kid again.

“Get some sleep.” Robby pushed towards the stairs.

It didn’t take long for sleep to hit you. You had one thought before you fell asleep; you loved Jack Abbot more than you thought possible.

The knock at the door made Robby jump. He paused the game he was watching and answered the door. He wasn’t surprised to see Jack standing there looking worse for wear.

“Hey.” Jack looked over his shoulder, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Took you long enough.” Robby opened the door for him.

“I wanted to give her space.” Jack shrugged.

“She’s asleep.” Robby made his way back to the couch. “Sit down. Here,” he handed a glass of scotch to Jack as he sat down.

“Don’t act like you’re some wise old wizard or something.” Jack scoffed as he sipped the drink.

“Just good at reading people.” Robby chuckled as he leaned back into the couch with a groan. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” Jack sighed.

“Funny. She said the same thing before she started spilling her guts.” Robby chuckled.

“I got frustrated. She yelled and I know she doesn’t really mean half of it, but…fuck! She said some shit today that sent me off. She acted like I wasn’t hurting too. I yelled back. I lost it. I regretted it the second it happened.” Jack ran a hand through his hair.

“You two belong together.” Robby huffed. “This shit is stressful. It takes its toll. You deserve a break sometimes, too.”

“Maybe we should call it. There are other options. I just can’t handle seeing her like this all the time. It’s devastating.”

“That is not a conversation you should have with me,” Robby said. “None of this is a decision either of you should be entertaining tonight.”

“You’re right.” Jack sipped his scotch.

“Drink, watch the game, don’t worry tonight,” Robby said.

“Yeah.” Jack murmured. He downed the rest of his drink and got up, making his way to the stairs.

“That was good scotch you just wasted.” Robby scoffed.

Jack made his way to the spare bedroom. He creaked the door open, seeing you curled up and sleeping. You looked peaceful for the first time in a long time. He crept in and gently slipped into bed behind you. You stirred, flipping over to see who was invading your space. You smelled him before you saw him.

“Jack…” You sighed, nuzzling into him.

“I’m sorry, Honey.” He wrapped you up in his arms. “I let my emotions run away with me. You need me to be steady, and I just couldn’t today.” He buried his face in your hair.

“I shouldn’t have said those things. You deserve to grieve just as much as I do. I’m sorry if I made you think that you had to keep that to yourself. You can tell me when it’s too much. If anyone can understand what that feels like, it’s me.” You dug your fingertips into the muscles on his back.

“I think your brother may have made a good point.” Jack mumbled.

“Don’t tell him that.” You chuckled.

“Never.” Jack’s chest rumbled as he laughed. “Let’s take some time off. We can go somewhere warm, Mexico, maybe. Or we can rent a cabin and just unplug. I think we need to reset.”

“Yeah. I think so too.” You sighed. “I hate when he’s right.”

“Me too.” Jack kissed your forehead. “I love you.”

A: I need to confess something to u. and u need to listen before u take any action with me and our relationship. A: U know Miss Scarlet? Capri’s science teacher? AR: Yeah. What up on her? A: She’s pregnant and.. AR: Why u seem kinda care about that ? U are sus. AR: Don’t tell me that baby is your’s? A: Nia.. listen to me first. A: U are right.. it’s mine. and I’ve been cheating on u past few month and U know, I want my own child? AR: I know this gonna happen. AR: U know, I don’t want to have kids? I agree to adopt Capri just because I don’t want u to leave me. AR: .. and for your info, I took "medicine" to avoid me to get pregnant. A: No wonder U keep asking me to use protection. Why don’t U just tell me? why U have to lie? AR: Because, I know u already cheat on me before u confess. Now u choose.. Me or her? A: I don't want to live in a lie anymore, so I chose her.