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Stay, Stay, Stay

Chapter Sixty-Five

It was a desperate hungry kind of feeling that overwhelmed me when I saw him walk up the driveway. Not building or growing, a sudden ravenous urge to feel something from him. There was no romantic seduction or subtle suggestions, instead I grabbed him as soon as his feet crossed the threshold into the house. I slammed the door behind him and before he could kick off his shoes he was pinned against the door by my still awkward body. He tried to kiss me back gently but eventually gave up, submitting to my force. His he dropped his wallet and keys and eventually his hands found their way to my back. We didn’t break apart when I pulled us towards the couch, instead we stumbled down the step to the living room and eventually slammed into the couch. The aggressive desperation was coursing through me with a power I hadn’t ever experienced. I was angry, craving him, and on the verge of losing my mind.

He landed on his back with a thud, taking me down with him and pushing his hands under the same pair of leggings I’d been wearing for a week. We broke apart so I could undo his belt and pull down his black dress pants, barely taking a second to look him in the eyes before shoving my hands down his gitch. I didn’t care about foreplay or creating any real intimacy and as soon as he was ready I was on top of him, trying to use him to fill the void that continued to grow inside of me. We didn’t speak, the only sound was my body coming down against his in harsh beats. He didn’t ask about Lachlan or comment on my strange behaviour, just dug his nails hard into the extra flesh on my hips and moved with me. I groaned at the pain that struck me when he dragged his nails down the curve of my hips to my thighs. It was exactly what I wanted, to feel something sharp. I pushed a little harder against him and pushed my own nails into his chest. The acton was met with a hiss and the word “fuck” tumbling from his red and bitten lips. I wanted more than I could do and finally looked at him.

“Harder,” I whispered, it was a mixture of begging and commanding. I knew the only way I’d get what I needed was if he took charge. Without missing a beat he sat up and we reconfigured so he was on top of me and I was face down on the couch, both of us still half dressed and his hair wet from the post game shower. He slammed back into me without warning, then reached for my wrists, taking them both in one hand for leverage. His free hand collided with my right butt cheek and I let out a groan. He knew exactly what I wanted without me even having to tell him.

“More,” I whined pushing back on him again and his hand struck me even harder. But it wasn’t enough. “Harder,” I begged. “More.”

“Christ Bea, if I hit you any harder I’m going to hurt you,” he grumbled, his body hod against mine.

“Good,” I turned to see him better. “Hurt me.”
He stopped suddenly, dropping my wrists from his hand and pulling away from me. “I’m not playing this game with you,” he mumbled then zipped up his pants and left me laying face down on the couch before I had a chance to reply. I lay there humiliated and furious. But I could tell who I was angrier at, myself for thinking physical pain could help me feel something, or him for not giving me what I wanted. The office bedroom door slammed and shortly after so did the door to the yellow room when I locked myself inside the safety of its walls, leaving Sidney to take care of Lachlan when he woke up. Maybe I was a bad mother, and a bad wife, but there was nothing I could do to fix that in moment, so instead I hid away.

I didn’t notice him standing in the doorway of the nursery watching us. After a long evening of Lachlan crying through all three periods of the game I’d been hoping to watch from home, he’d finally settled and we were both dozing in and out of sleep on the rocking chair like we had so many nights before. It wasn’t abnormal for Sidney to join us, but when he did the focus was on Lachlan. Things had been tense since his return from Russia, and although we were on speaking terms, we weren’t really communicating. Everything felt so superficial and forced, and the worst part was that I knew it was my fault. In the rare moments when my mind seemed clear I felt bad for Sidney. I couldn’t imagine having to put up with me. But that clarity didn’t allow me to forget his own emotional distance. We were both fighting through the chaos in my mind and neither of us knew how to improve the situation. We were in survival mode, just hoping we’d wake up one morning and the darkness would be gone.

The team had snagged a playoff spot that night, and after a brief congratulations text and a reply from Sid telling me he’d be home late, I hadn’t expected to see him until the morning.

“Can we talk?” he startled me from my half sleep and stepped into the room. I nodded and rubbed my eyes, hoping he wouldn’t wake Lachlan. Without saying anymore he took the sleeping baby from my arms and placed him in the barely used crib. I hated having Lachlan out of my arms and away from me, the crib was only used if absolutely necessary, and apparently Sidney thought tonight it was necessary. After ensuring he was safe and still asleep, Sidney motioned for me to follow him and we left Lachlan alone in his room for the first night in his life.

“C’mere,” Sid sat on our bed with his back resting against the wall and legs stretched out in front of him, his arms held open for me. It was a gesture that had once been common place in our relationship but now seemed relatively foreign. I crawled onto the bed beside him welcoming the feeling of his body enveloping mine.
“I’m worried about you,” he whispered after a few moments, his words muffled by my hair.

“I know,” I sighed at a loss for a better response.

“What can we do to make this better?” his fingers slipped between mine and he squeezed my hand gently.

“If I knew, I would have already done it.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately,” he sounded genuine and I was glad he was acknowledging his absence but something about his words made me angry. Did he know there was more to it? Or did he associate my mood with the frequency and duration of his presence.

“You’re busy, I get that.” I opted for non-confrontational, pushing my frustration to the back of my mind. It wasn’t the right time for anger, and I just hoped my emotions would agree.

“I used to think I could handle anything,” his voice wavered. “Especially with you. But now I’m not so sure because you’re obviously unhappy and I can’t seem to do anything about it, so instead of watching you suffer, I check out. I know it’s not my job to fix you, but I desperately wish I could because I’m obviously not strong enough to just stand beside you.”

“I wish you could fix me too. I just want to feel something again.” I pressed my head back to his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart.

“So what can we do to make this easier? Because you’re scaring the shit out of me,” the vibrations of his voice tickled my ear. “Do you want to move home with your family? Do you want to hire someone to help out? Do you want some time apart? Because I’m willing to do anything, and if I’m not making you happy…” he trailed off, neither of us wanting to hear the end of that statement.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” I sighed and wrapped my arms tighter around his torso. I’d missed being so close to him, feeling that safety that came with his limbs tangled with mine. “But I don’t want to be away from you,” I assured him. “I just want to feel like myself again.”

“Then we’ll make that happen,” he promised, and I wondered if I actually knew —let alone remembered— who I really was. Spending those few hours at the derby track had helped for a brief period but after returning home I found my self back in the same confused state that had been ruling my life for months.

“So, I don’t know how it would impact your feeding him, but would you ever consider going back on the drugs?” He suggested it so gently, tentative as if afraid to encounter some explosive reaction from me. The neurotic and cruel part of my mind told me I should be offended, that he only wanted me when I was behaving in a way considered by the world to be “normal.” But with his arms holding me and the calmness around us it was the slightest bit easier to ignore the angry chattering that tried to takeover the space in my head.

I agreed to make an appointment to talk to someone. I wasn’t willing to stop breastfeeding, but I was willing to explore my options in terms of medication. I think we both knew that was my only hope. Pulling myself up by the bootstraps wasn’t going to be enough, because imbalanced chemicals in the brain unfortunately do not respond to inspirational quotes and meditation. Sure they helped, but I couldn’t deny my problem was medical.

With our lines of communication on the way to being back in service, the world felt just the tiniest bit more manageable and although the darkness hadn’t been completely lifted, there was a pinprick in the suffocating fabric of despair letting just enough light stream in so that I could begin to feel hopeful again. Not cured, not fixed, but hopeful.

We lay quietly, only the sounds of our rhythmic inhaling and exhaling filling the room. I was the one to make the first move— slowly moving my hand to his belt buckle and fiddling with the hard metal— but Sidney was the one who took the lead.

“Are you sure? This isn’t another ploy for pain?” he asked in the brief moments his lips left mind. He’d pulled me onto his lap and was holding the edge of my old t-shirt between his fingers, ready to strip me of its worn fabric and expose the flesh I’d kept hidden from him for months.

I felt my face heat up at his mention of my idiot behaviour a few weeks prior. The memory of him leaving me there made me sick. I nodded quickly and pressed my lips back to his. “Maybe get the lights though,” I whispered anxiously.

“The lights?” he pulled back confused.

“Yeah, lights. The things that brighten dark rooms….”

“Why?” he cut me off before I could continue explaining to him what lights are. “You’ve never worried about the lights before.”

“I just…” I shrugged but he kept his eyes on me, waiting for me to explain. “I’m just not crazy about you seeing all of this fully illuminated.” I gestured to my stomach and thighs, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Shh,” he ran his hands down my sides and rest them on the very thighs I’d been hoping to hide from him. “None of that. You’re not allowed to be self-conscious with me.”

“Not allowed?” I smirked taking that as a suggestion rather than a controlling demand.

“Not allowed,” he repeated. “It’s a new rule.”

“And what if I like breaking rules?” my lips were now just millimetres away from his as I spoke.

“Bad girls get punished,” his eyes were focused on mine, and his fingers dug into my thighs. His words, combined with the deep growl of his voice made the room suddenly feel warmer and a long missed flutter of electric shivers run through my abdomen. I didn’t get a chance to reply before he’d pushed me onto my back, my head now at the foot of the bed and his body hovering over mine.

He took his time peeling off my clothes piece by piece, causing me to squirm at the idea of his eyes on my still lumpy and expanded body. When the last sock hit the floor he sat back on his heels and watched me. My face felt hot under his gaze and I wanted to wrap myself under the blankets and hide, covering all the parts of my less than satisfactory body and saving him from having to see the hideousness that has taken over every inch of me. After just enough torture he finally smiled and loosened his tie. It was the kind of smile that pushed his cheeks so far up his eyes got lost and his face was all smile and wrinkles. It was the same smile I’d seen on Taylor’s face countless times and hoped to see Lachlan inherit. It was warm, glowing, in a strange way it was my favourite comfort.

“I like it,” he remarked, still focusing on my body.

“Then stop staring at it and do something,” I whined, tired of being studied by him like a science fair project. He smirked and tenderly pressed his lips against mine, still fully dressed and straddling me. I shivered in anticipation as he kissed along the side of my neck and down my collar. His hand began to move slowly up my side to my chest and while the feeling of his hands and lips on me was fantastic, I froze. Anxiety began to brew inside me and I tried to swat his hand away from its spot now at the base of my left breast.

“Don’t touch them,” I croaked just as his lips came into contact with the swollen flesh. But he didn’t hear me because his hand kept moving, and I lay under him, experiencing it as if in slow motion. He was getting closer and closer and I was an out of body spectator. Maybe it was his eager contact, or maybe it was the oxytocin flooding through me as a result of finally being close to him after months of romantic isolation, but before I could warn him again it erupted. Milk pushing its way out of my heavy breast and splashing him in the face comedically. It was surreal, that couldn’t have happened. The milk in the eye horror stories were just a myth. There was no way that my innocent little boob had just irrupted like a cannon into my poor unsuspecting husbands face.

“What the hell!?” He pulled away, blinking awkwardly and rubbing his face in shock. A trickle of warm milk trickled down his face to the top of his lip and he instinctually licked it off, then realizing what he’d just done snorted in a mixture of amusement and embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry! I can’t believe that just happened, I tried to warn you!” I cried, pulling the blanket over my chest and looking up at him horrified. There was absolutely no way he could turn this into something other than the humiliating turn-off that it was.

“I really should have known better,” he laughed, wiping his face with his shirt then pulling it over his head. Then, as if nothing had happened he leaned back down and kissed me like he’d never been interrupted.

“You’re just going to keep going?” I asked when he transferred from my lips to my jaw.

He paused for a second, waiting for me to protest then mumbled something before continuing.

To say things had changed would be an understatement. Our first time together postpartum could hardly be counted as sex, rather it should have been filed under “mortifying mistakes I’ve made.” The changes were more evident this time, with both of us in our right minds, for one, we were both surprised to remember that condoms were now a necessity, something we’d only ever experienced once in our relationship… when I got pregnant. On top of that there was a serious hydration problem. Yes, my previously slippery slide now resembled the Sahara in a drought. Nothing he did seemed to fix the issue and after twenty minutes of trying I was ready to give up when he reached into the bedside table for back up. The lube had been part of a wedding gift from Serena and hadn’t been opened yet. It took a quarter of the decently sized bottle to come close to making up for my body’s lack of reaction to that hands that used to drive me wild. It wasn’t that I felt nothing inside, but it was different, dulled out in a way.

I could tell he was loving every second of it by the look on his face, his eyes cloudy and teeth digging into his lip. And I didn’t hate it, I loved the feeling of him on top of me, but that was the extent of it. There was no building pressure or twinges of pleasure, just him inside of me. I wanted to enjoy it so badly, but nothing he did seemed to help and all I could focus on was listening for Lachlan’s cries over the baby monitor.

After about ten minutes in I could tell he was struggling, trying to last as long as I did. But unfortunately for both of us I wasn’t going anywhere and I knew it. Tonight just wasn’t going to be the night.

“It’s okay,” I squeezed his bicep gently and smiled. He gave me a kind of disappointed look, then just like that it was over.

He rolled off of me and onto his side of the bed, pulling me against him and sleepily petting my knotted hair. He offered to try again with his hands, but suddenly I didn’t want to be touched. I wanted to get dressed and check on the baby, not waste time chasing something that probably wouldn’t happen. He tried not to be offended when I brushed off his advances and left him alone in bed in favour of the bathroom and eventually Lachlan, but I knew the realization that things had changed with us was just as hard for him as it was for me. All we could do was hope that we’d find a new, tolerable normal.

******

A week later I was put back on citalopram, the doctor thought it was too risky to have me taking the antipsychotic that had also been a part of my daily drug treatment before the baby, but one SSRI was better than no drugs at all apparently. Things didn’t miraculously change for us, that would have been too easy, instead it came in moments, little intervals of being just the slightest bit more at ease. There weren’t many of them and they never lasted as long as I’d like but they made the rest of the time more manageable. The pinprick holes in the dark fabric that has be suffocating me were slowly multiplying and with it my desire to disappear lessened. Contrary to what the voice haunting my mind told me, I wasn’t going to be trapped in the darkness forever.

"Just taste it," I nudged Beau who was standing beside me at the kitchen counter making a sandwich, while I wrote the time and date on thick ziplock looking bags filled with milk. I’d been on the medication for two weeks and had taken to pumping in an effort to avoid my milk supply being impacted by the drugs.

"No way," he grimaced at the bag in my hand and tossed the loaf of bread onto the other side of me. "That's disgusting."

"No it isn't," I cried in exaggerated offence. "It's no different than what's in the carton in the fridge."

"Right, because humans and cows are the same?" he sniggered, putting the final piece of bread on his sandwich and pressing down.

"You're the one who loudly pondered what it tastes like, so just taste it. I do it all the time. Just do it! Taste it!” my volume increased comically at the end and I held the half full bottle of fresh milk I was transferring to freeze bags out to him.

“Get it away from me you freak!” he swatted at my hand and pushed me into the counter as he walked past.

“Did you just hip check me? Don’t tell me you just hip checked me little boy,” I hollered at him before he could even leave the kitchen. “I will end you, Sunshine!”

He turned around and grinned at me, calmly putting his sandwich on the counter and walking towards me with a rambunctious look in his eyes. Before I knew it his arms were around my waist and I was being flung wildly over his shoulder, the milk in the glass bottle flying all over both of us.

“What the hell are you doing?” I screamed, kicking my feet and smacking him on the back trying to break free.

“You can’t end me if you can’t move,” he cackled and held on a little tighter.

“Beau, I swear to god if you don’t put me down…” I began but couldn’t think of a threat worthy of the moment.

“You’ll what?” he egged me on. “You can’t do anything, Bea, you’re trapped!”

“You’re going to hurt yourself!” I kicked my feet harder but he tightened his grip around my knees. “I’m like 200lbs. I will not be the reason you miss the first round of playoffs.” I tried to reason with him, but given that he’d just randomly picked me up he was far from being reasonable.

“You weigh as much as I do?” he laughed then casually began doing squats in the middle of our kitchen with breast milk staining the back of his shirt and trickling through his hair. “Light as a feather.”

“C’mon, let me down, you’re making me nauseous,” I whined, which only provoked him. He began spinning in circles, careful to keep his footing but making my stomach churn even more. I smacked my hands against his back begging him to stop, lest I make like Lachlan and puke down his back.

“What are you…?” I heard another voice enter the room and Beau stopped spinning suddenly and faced who I realized was Geno but couldn’t see.

“Nothing,” Beau quickly shrugged, still keeping me over his shoulder as if there was nothing unusual about it.

“Hey, I think he’s finally…” I heard Sidney say but again couldn’t see him. He and Geno had taken Lachlan for a walk in the hopes of soothing him after a long day spent crying. He’d been exceptionally fussy lately and it was wearing me down. I’d been about to pull out my hair when Sid suggested they take him for a bit and it had felt like the nicest thing he’d ever said to me.

“Can someone tell him to put me down?” I begged.

Sidney snorted and I heard Geno chuckle. “What are you two even doing?” I heard my husband ask. Someone else might have been concerned, maybe even jealous to find their wife flung over the shoulder of the hot live in, but not Sidney, he of course found it amusing.

“Bea was trying to get me to drink boob milk, I retaliated, it escalated quickly,” Beau informed them, finally lowering me to my feet and granting me the freedom I’d been screaming for.

“You’re such a fucking prick,” I smacked him square in the chest then adjusted my shirt which had gotten bunched up in the action. “You’re lucky I didn’t pee on you.”

“Is that how you fight off your opponents?” he pat me on the head as if I wasn’t only 8 inches shorter than him and I rolled my eyes.

“So you didn’t want to drink the boob juice but still somehow ended up covered in it,” Sid smirked and moved gently, Lachlan asleep in the baby wrap he was wearing.

“I didn’t think that through,” Beau admitted, looking at the floor where milk was splattered.

“Why not taste it?” Geno asked casually, as if it was a normal thing to drink.

“Yeah, it’s really not that bad,” Sid added with a shrug. He’d tasted it more than once, something I was shocked to hear him admit around other people. While I didn’t consider it a taboo subject, it didn’t seem like something the average new dad would talk about with his friends.

“I’ll taste it,” Geno offered and Beau stared at him appalled. I handed him the other jar on the counter and we watched as he slammed it back without hesitating, a mixture of shock and amusement taking over the energy in the room. He swallowed and placed the jar back in my hands with a smile. "See," he turned to Beau. "Not so bad."

And there it was. The challenged issued from Geno to Beau. I didn't see the competitive spark take over Beau until he held out his hand to me and muttered "fine." The tension rose between them as I poured some of the liquid from the little plastic bag I'd been about to freeze into the jar. He took it from me without taking his eyes off of Geno who still stood there smirking.

"I may never look at you the same way Beatrice," he stated dramatically before tipping his head back and pouring it down his throat like the first tequila shot of the night. He shuddered after swallowing then slammed the glass jar down onto the counter. "It didn't suck," he proclaimed then picked up his sandwich.

"Do you all feel closer to Lachy now?" I smirked at them and stroked Lachlan’s sleeping head, his little body still wrapped against Sidney’s torso.

Those were the days when things were lighter, when despite the threat of paralyzing depression that loomed in the corner of my mind, I was able to smile. In many ways I have to credit the distractions I surrounded myself with. The energetic and lively people Sidney and I surrounded ourselves with kept me from stepping off the that figurative cliff and plummeting into complete mental anguish. I don’t think my postpartum depression was ever a secret, I didn’t announce it publicly, but I could often sense that the people in my life were aware.

A few days before the first start of playoffs the team gathered for one last dinner before the madness began. Sidney had tried to convince me to leave Lachlan with a sitter, but at the last minute I panicked and decided I couldn’t leave him. I hated the idea of my own tiny human being bottle fed and put to bed without me near. So instead we packed the bag, grabbed the wrap carrier and Lachlan came with us to his very first five star restaurant. Like Thanksgiving, when I carried his weight in a very different way, I sat between Colbie and Sidney casually avoiding the main conversation at the table.

“Holy blue-eyed Sidney,” Colbie remarked when I passed her the finally pacified baby so I could read the menu.

“Right?” I laughed. Sidney and James were in their own conversation, talking to each other over our heads. Across from us Duper and Beau were arguing about something comically, and it was as if nothing had changed in the last 5 or so months since our last team meal. It was a flurry of positive energy and excitement.

“So how’s the future superstar?” Marc-Andre called across the table to me. “Sid have him on skates yet?”

“Almost,” I laughed. “I’m making him wait for the 6 month mark before strapping deadly blades to my baby’s feet.”

“Reasonable,” Marc grinned. “But not a day past 6 months, the draft class of 2032 needs him.”

“We’ll see, but I think he’s going to be a farmer.” I was surprised by how genuine my smile was. I didn’t have to force the laughter or pretend I was feeling something.

When Lachlan started to fuss Sid was quick to respond, taking the squirming baby from Colbie who I could tell was about to panic. Without a word, he grabbed the diaper bag and head to the bathroom at the back of the dimly lit restaurant. Colbie and I discussed plans for a shoot she wanted to do with Lachlan while James and Beau made goofy comments. I hadn’t noticed how long Sid had been gone until our drinks arrived and Pascal was tapping his glass to make a toast. As he began to speak Sidney returned looking visibly uncomfortable and hastily passed Lachlan to the first person with open arms before picking up his beer and swallowing half of it in one gulp.

“So let’s raise our glasses…” Duper announced and I gave Sidney a worried look.

“He peed in my mouth!” Sid cried horrified so only Colbie and I could hear, Lachlan snuggled in Geno’s arms.

“To the future,” Pascal toasted, while Colbie and I burst into a fit of unruly and manic laughter.

“À la vôtre santé,” I raised my glass with the rest of the group and joined the chorus of clinking and well wishes. Because suddenly, the future didn’t feel so daunting.

Notes

It feels like I've been writing this chapter forever. But to be fair I started parts of it months ago.

Although it feels like it's taking me forever to update I promise I don't forget about this and I will not end it without you being made very aware! That being said I only anticipate a few more chapters. Maybe five.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I look forward to the feedback :)

xx-T

Comments

This was so good!!! I was in tears at the end when thinking about Sid retiring haha

Court31 Court31
2/17/21

Beautiful story.

Aleja21 Aleja21
10/29/18

This story was great and very relatable because of the beliefs that Bea and I share. You really captured the struggle of being in a relationship and making a marriage work. Keep up the good work and don't stop writing. :)

RoxPensChick RoxPensChick
9/17/17

@melindaone
I'm so glad you enjoyed it!!! Thanks for sticking through and reading :D :D



TheoAirplane TheoAirplane
9/11/17

Well, that was sooo good. I loved their story. I still do. Their love, strenght, humor..this all made me fall in love. So thank you for a chance to be a part of K.C. family.

melindaone melindaone
9/8/17