“Going through the motions, trying just to let go of the tears that she cried, no solid goodbye... And even though she knows that it ain’t gonna fix it, she’s putting on her lipstick…”


They thought they had gone through the worst. The threat of an abortion had nearly broken them, and yet, things did get worse. Neither of them was prepared for what happened. The new season had started for Marco, and he was forced to begin it on the road. And that brought on a whole new level of guilt for him. Because back in Minnesota, sitting alone in a cold condo, Marie spent nearly everyday cooped up in bed.

She had the curtains drawn, keeping the room dim, with Sofia in bed with her. The comforter was perpetually up by her head, and unless she was getting up to feed Sof, she didn’t even leave the bed. Her dad had been right, the emotional pain she felt was unreal. The depression had set in shortly after the preseason games were underway. With Marco always around, he was able to keep her mind stimulated and active. But with him out of the house, she found it easy to hardly move at all.

Sofia tugged at her hair, trying to get some sort of attention, but Marie just pulled her hand away and slid further beneath the blankets. And when Sofia began to cry, Marie thought about doing nothing. But she wailed louder, and it was ear piercing and painful, so she pushed the blankets down just enough to put her hand behind Sofia’s back and pat it gently.

Marie was staring at the ceiling when she heard the front door open. Sofia was still beside her, now sleeping soundly. She’d been out for a few hours. Then the bedroom door creaked open, and she watched Marco slither in. He was trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake anyone. Little did he know, Marie wasn’t sleeping much these days.

He pulled off his shirt and tossed it into the hamper, doing the same with his sweats, and then stood by his side of the bed, reaching down to pick up Sofia. When he exited the room to put her in her crib, Marie turned on her side. She stared at her hand, shooting a side-glance at the door again as it shut this time. Marco padded to bed, and tucked himself in.

“She’s awfully light, Marie.”

Marie turned onto her back, and looked back up at the ceiling. “I feed her,”

“I should hope so. Are you feeding yourself?” When she didn’t answer, Marco cleared his throat, “do you need someone to talk to?”

“I need medication,”

“You’re pregnant and you’ve never been on anti-depressants. No doctor is going to prescribe them to you now. So you need to think of another plan, because I don’t want to come home and find you rotting in bed while our one-year-old is beside you.”

“I’m depressed, Marco.”

“I know, and you have to let me help you because this has gone far enough.” He turned to face her, “I dread leaving you. You’re ten weeks pregnant, now’s not the time to denying yourself food,”

She sucked in a deep breath and tried to ignore him. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. He hadn’t been the one that put their child’s life in danger. He didn’t know this pain.

For Marco, at least he knew he’d be in town for a few days now. Not that he knew what to do, but at least he could make sure Marie was at least getting out of bed, and Sofia was being cared for. But that wasn’t going to solve anything. He could drag her out of bed by her hair, but she’d still be depressed, and if there was anything that made him feel helpless, it was realizing he didn’t know what to do for his wife.

And when he woke the next morning and she barely even stirred, he knew he had to think of something fast. Unfortunately the thing he thought of was the last thing he ever wanted to do. It was definitely something that would be better to blindside her with. If she caught wind of it, she’d be likely to avoid it at all costs.

“Start getting ready, we’re going out.” He poked his head into the bedroom that evening.

“I don’t want to.”

“Too bad. We’re going. Put on that navy dress and get made up. The babysitter will be here by six,”

“I’ll hate you,” she willed herself up, hair matted from going days unwashed.

“Hate me, sweetheart. We’re going even if I have to drag you by the wrist. Go on now,”

She hesitated and looked down at her hands, “I really don’t want to, Marco. I’m not feeling up to it,”

He pursed his lips and walked to her side of the bed. Sitting down, Marco placed his hand on her thigh. “You’re never going to feel like it because you’ve convinced yourself you’re guilty. You’re punishing yourself. Enough,” He leaned in to peck her lips once, and then wrapped his arms around her.

At first she didn’t reciprocate the hug, but she had to admit it felt good. With him on the road and her dealing with depression like she never had before, his touch put her at ease if only for a moment. It was like she could breathe again. An unbearably heavy weight seemed to be lifted from her shoulders, but when he pulled away, the weight returned. She didn’t want to feel this way. Every ounce of her knew that this behavior was not only harmful to her, but to Sofia, and the baby she was carrying. And even though she knew that, she couldn’t shake it.

Before Marco left the room, he shot her back a glance. Marie obliged and got out of the bed for the first time in days. She felt that if she could just take one step, it was one step closer to getting better. So Marie looked down at her feet and took a step forward. It wasn’t much at all, but even if her world was crumbling around her, she had to keep herself going. In a few days, Marco would be back on the road for a week, which meant that in a few days, Marie would once again be the sole provider for Sofia again. And lord knows that that little girl had gone through enough suffering in her life already; she didn’t have to watch her mother suffer too.

---

Marie looked at herself in the tiny mirror of her compact. Marco had gone to the bathroom the moment they got to the restaurant. And so here she was, staring at herself, putting on the lipstick she’d brought along. Originally she thought that getting made up would make her feel better. Look good, feel good; right? But it didn’t. She still wanted to disappear back into bed and pull the blankets up over her head.

Midway through feeling sorry for herself, Marco got to the table, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and sat down next to her. She thought that was unusual. He always preferred to sit across from her so they could talk, and now here was beside her, with his right arm around her shoulders as he ordered drinks from the waiter.

She waited until the waiter left, and then stared at Marco quizzically. “What’s this, what’s going on?”

“Can’t I sit next to my wife?” He pressed his lips to the side of her head. “We need to chat, and I need to make sure you don’t bolt if I bring up something you don’t want to hear,”

“Why the fuck would you bring something up that I don’t want to hear,” she spat. The waiter happened to approach with Marco’s glass of wine, and the club soda and lime he ordered for Marie.

Marco kissed the side of her head again. “Because I need to make sure you’re going to be okay when I leave again. I need to make sure that my daughter is being taken care of, and if she’s not, I need to make arrangements so she will be.”

“Are you threatening me?”

He shook his head, “no. You know I want nothing more than for you to spend time and have fun with Sofia. But if that’s not going to happen, and you’re just going to lay in bed, let me call one of our moms to watch her.”

“You don’t understand how I feel,”

As she started to get worked up, Marco turned his chair to face her a little more squarely. He leaned forward and held onto her hands, “I know. There’s no way I ever could. But if you told me, I could figure out how to help you. Right now, it’s the blind leading the blind, and nothing’s changing.”

Marie didn’t want to make a scene in the restaurant. It was far too fancy and far too public for that. But she wanted to be honest with Marco, to let him know that the way he believed her to feel was miniscule compared to how she actually felt. Tears were endless, and so were the days. And because time never seemed to let up on her, she always had a moment to feel sorry for herself.

“Remember how you felt when you found out your dad had cancer?” She glanced up at Marco, to find him already staring at her. “That’s how I feel every minute of every day. I feel guilty, and helpless, and angry, and I feel all those things at once. There’s no escaping it and I’m afraid that when I have this baby, every time I look at it, this is all I’m going to feel.” As a tear began to roll down her cheek, Marco brought his thumb beneath her eye and wiped it away. “I’m ashamed that I thought terminating the pregnancy was the best and only option. And I’m mortified that I was so willing to turn your life into a living hell. I’m conflicted between wanting a family and wanting to protect what we already have.”

Marco went to speak, but the waiter ambushed the table. Marie ordered first, not really hungry in the first place, but knew it was expected of her. When the waiter left them alone, Marco faced Marie again. “So what do you need? What’s going to help you get… past this emotional block? Anything you need, I want to make sure you get it if it’s going to make you physically, mentally, and emotionally healthy again.”

“I need time. Time to grieve and repent. Time to look back on the choice I made and really learn something from it. I’m not going to magically be better tomorrow, or in a week, or maybe even a month.”

“Maybe we should look into finding someone you can talk to. You know, someone actually qualified…”

“I don’t need someone qualified,” she rebutted. “I just need Jess and my mom. I trust them enough to divulge this information, not some psychologist that stares at me and asks me how I feel.”

Marco nodded and picked up his wine glass, “I have a week and a half home stand later this month,” he took a sip, and then set his glass back down. “You can go to Boston and Connecticut, and I can have my mom come down to help with Sofia.”

On top of everything Marie felt guilty about, she felt bad for piling all of this on Marco’s plate when he should’ve been focusing on hockey. His career wasn’t a definite thing; at any moment he could be traded or sent down to the AHL. He needed to stay focused in order to play at the level he wanted to play at. That in and of itself was a handful, and now she was dishing all of this negativity onto him too.

Back home, the first thing Marie did was head into the nursery to check on Sofia. She found her to be sleeping soundly and comfortably. When she tiptoed back into the living room, Marco was just paying the babysitter, and then she was out the door to spend her night somewhere else.

“How is she?” Marco asked, setting his wallet and keys on the table beside the couch.

“Fine. Sleeping,” Marie looked up at him as he moved in closer to her.

His hands dropped to her hips and he tugged her closer. Since everything that had happened, they hadn’t been intimate with each other. Either Marco was on the road, or Marie didn’t feel like it, or both. And again, she began thinking about all the ways in which she was disappointing him already. She couldn’t pile this onto it as well.

“I love this dress,” Marco murmured, running his hands down the sides. All Marie could do was stare at him. She chewed on her lip, silently telling herself that she had to give in somewhere. “Are you feeling up for sex?”

Marie nodded but hardly convinced herself. “Whatever,”

“Whatever’s not an answer to my question,” he grinned and circled his arms around her hips. “Would you like to, or would you rather not?”

She curled her hands around his arms and sucked in a deep breath. As much as she wanted to please him, she knew getting intimate and not being totally into it wouldn’t do that. “Not,”

He moved his hands from her hips to her cheeks, “we’re gonna get through this, okay? It’s hard right now, but we’ll be happy again.” He leaned in closer to kiss her quickly. Only then did he cradle her head against his chest and stroke the ends of her hair.

Notes

"Lipstick" by Dan + Shay.

It's not everyday I use a country song as a title on this story, but this song was too good to pass up.