<span style="font-size: 15px">It was nearly midnight by the time he got home. There was so much paperwork. He felt dirty for considering writing up the papers for a divorce. It certainly wasn't the first time, but Edith had been especially cruel for a few weeks, and he had no idea how to handle her or her rage. They had sex twice, and the first time shouldn't really count since he couldn't... well, it was difficult to conceive their son, to be honest. Surely that would alert her to something, but he couldn't manage to say the words. To tell her why, to tell anyone why. To reason to himself that something was different about him, something that didn't fit in the with the orderly goals he had set for himself to create the perfect suburban household. <br/>
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He unlocked the door so silently that even he couldn't hear the click, and he disabled the alarm with small beeps sounding at each number punched in, each sound making him twitch. He didn't want to be home. He did, of course he wanted to be around his son, his precious Brock was already seven. He was only a baby a week ago and it was very uncomfortable to see him getting older because even though he was seven he wanted to protect him like he would when he was defenseless, when he was tiny. Apparently he would always see his son as a child, because he was his child, but even when he was an adult he would be his baby, even if he was taller than him, he'd still be his son, his cutie with the platinum curls from his mother's side of the family. <br/>
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There was a nice set up on the couch. His home decorated with everything seen in every home magazine. Perfect, pristine, and almost fake seeming. It was too perfect, but it was <i>normal</i>, that was very important to him and Edith both. He slipped his shoes off and took off his tie with a huff only to see that Brock was asleep on the couch that he'd been sleeping on for a while now. He could have gotten another bed for himself but it would disturb the decor and while he had space to convert his at-home office into a somewhat bedroom, he didn't want to have to give that up. The couch, honestly, was expensive and worth every cent. <br/>
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To sleep, he crouched down to pick Brock up and take him back to his room and tuck him in his bed where he'd surely be more comfortable. It was large compared to him, the couch wasn't exactly as free. But before he could pick him up, the light in the kitchen lit up abruptly. He picked the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it half over Brock since it was a little hot in the house and he didn't want him to be smothered, but he didn't want him to get cold either. <br/>
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As expected Edith stood in the kitchen, pajamas on, hair tied back, eyes heavy and tired, red rimmed and puffy. He didn't know what caused her so much distress, but at the same time he was sure he had a general idea that he just didn't want to consider. <br/>
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"He wanted to see you when you got home but you didn't come back until, well, now." <br/>
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"Work. Lots of paperwork." <br/>
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"Cut the shit," she said. She sighed and held her forehead in her hand. "His teacher, Mr. Taylor, wants to see us for a parent-teacher meeting sort of thing. He wanted to tell you and make sure you weren't mad at him." <br/>
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"What? Why would I be mad at him?" <br/>
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"He thinks he said something that would make us upset. He still won't tell me what it was that happened to garner this sort of attention, but tomorrow at three there's an appointment for us to speak with his teacher, and... and I think you need to come home more often." <br/>
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He blinked at her, unsure how to respond. Alright, so they had a meeting, doesn't mean it was anything bad, it probably was something unpleasant, but if it was horrible they would have been called immediately, and it could always be something good, right? Yeah, Brock was probably doing very well, actually, he knew he was. He was getting good marks in all his classes, even if it was just the first grade. <br/>
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And to answer his wife he said: "But there's a lot of work to be done. Lots of papers to fill out." <br/>
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"You said that already, and I don't believe you're up this late with paperwork. Really? You look like you've been out, your tie's a mess." She motioned to where he had loosened his tie. He looked down and then pulled it off. So it was going to be another one of these nights. That's why he didn't like coming home until later, but apparently Edith had caught onto that too. <br/>
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"I loosened it when I got home. I wanted to crash, honestly, I'm exhausted, but I was gonna take Brock to bed first. He can't be comfortable all cramped up there." <br/>
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"Why don't you come to bed too? Whatever 'paperwork' is going on is totally okay as long as it stops affecting our life. I don't know what to do when you're not here, and I don't know how to talk about it because I'm just expecting the worst but... but if it's something like an affair then that's fine. It's just an affair. Just don't bring her home. I'm your wife, and I love you." She stepped forward to brush his hair out of his face. Where he had gelled it into place, it had been knocked out of place at some point during his paper binge. He really had only been doing paperwork. <br/>
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"If I go to bed you're going to--" <br/>
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"I have needs, Chris." <br/>
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"I know you do. Why don't you go and have an affair? It'd be better for us both." <br/>
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That was the wrong thing to say, he realized half a second after it came out of his mouth. He tried to redact it, but he couldn't just black or white it out from the document this time, couldn't just delete it and print a new copy. He closed his mouth, not wanting to say anything else that could be considered horrible for her. <br/>
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"You'd rather me have an affair than have sex with you, my husband? The father of my child?" <br/>
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"Is this a trick question?" <br/>
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"What the hell? No, it's not a trick question, just answer the damn thing." </span><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 15px">"Well, yeah. I'd rather you have an affair than--" <br/>
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"Am I ruined now? Did something happen between the time of... Nancy said her and Jason are very happy, that they do lots of interesting things, and I just want something like that back. They have three kids, so unless you think that after Brock's birth I'm somehow broken then that's not true and I just need you to give me something, anything. I'm desperate." <br/>
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He wanted to say: well, then that's why you can have an affair. Because that made sense and it took the complication out of the whole situation. He'd pretend he didn't know like he pretended a lot of other things and they'd be fine, but what he actually said was: <br/>
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"I'm gonna put Brock to bed and then I'm going to sleep on the couch like I have for the past year and a half, like I will continue to do, alright? It's nothing wrong with you, there's something wrong with me. I promise. You're beautiful, you should go out and meet someone who appreciates that more." <br/>
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"You don't appreciate me then?" Her voice was sharp, slightly wavering like this was affecting her emotionally, and when she got emotionally she could be cruel, very much so. She knew exactly where to hit him to make him feel horrible, likely because she'd know him since they were teenagers and she watched him struggle for a while until he thought that he loved her, that he could be like he was told it was supposed to be. It turns out he didn't want her romantically, he just deeply cared for his friend. <br/>
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"That's not what I meant and you know it." <br/>
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"Really? Do I? Why don't you just go back to your fucking paperwork. We're fine here. No need to come home, is there. You can sleep on the couches at the office and you can probably appreciate someone else better, because apparently I'm not good enough for you. You're just like your fucking father." <br/>
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"Dad?" a small voice came from behind them. He turned to look at where Brock stood, still in his school clothes. He walked to him and picked him up. He was getting bigger, but he could still carry him around. He only had about another year before he'd definitely be too big for him to life. He wasn't exactly super strong physically, he was more brain than brawn. <br/>
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"What's up kiddo? Your mom and I were just about ready to go to bed, and if I'm correct, which I am, then it's your bedtime too. Let's get your teeth brushed and out of those jeans. Jeans are awful to sleep in." He walked out of the room, ignoring Edith's loud crying before he headed towards Brock's room. <br/>
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"Why's mom so upset again?" <br/>
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"It's nothing for you to worry about," he set him down in his room. "Now, you got PJs to get on and teeth to brush. It's late. I'll be back to tuck you in." <br/>
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"No, it's okay. You should go to sleep too, with mom." He stared down at Brock and nodded, not sure what to say. He was partially sad because his son noticed, but how could he not? He didn't want him to have to try and fix this, like he had tried. <br/>
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"We'll figure something out. I love you. You sure you're okay?" <br/>
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"I'm seven, I can brush my teeth by myself," Brock said this before shuffling toward the bathroom connected to his bedroom. Yeah, he had a fancy room, but he made decent money and he did have a nice house even if it costed them so much per month for their mortgage. That and his student loans, well, it wasn't the best decisions but Edith and Brock deserved the nice home and he could technically afford it. <br/>
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He slept on the couch that night, and he took a shower in the morning, going through his typical daily routine. He went to work before Brock and Edith even woke up, but he made sure to kiss Brock's forehead before he left because he did feel bad for not being able take him to school, but Edith made sure he made it everyday. At two thirty he left the office and as he drove he received a call. <br/>
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"I can't go today. I just can't do it," Edith said over the speaker. <br/>
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"Uh, alright. That's alright. Are you okay?" <br/>
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"Like you even care." She hung up. He wasn't sure if he deserved that or not, but he wished that he could just explain but he couldn't. If he said anything then it would mean it was real and he didn't want that. They'd get through this, even if it was harder than ever before for them to agree on just about anything. <br/>
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He was at the school just a little bit early but waited until three sharp. He wasn't sure what to expect, but now that Edith abruptly left him to do this on his own, he had a sort of uneasy feeling. What if something bad had happened? He wouldn't have known because he hadn't been home and he was a horrible father! He stayed quiet despite the fact that his head was bouncing with thoughts of how he could be better, about how he was messing things up already and Brock was only seven. </span>