A Moosehead Spring: Max and Rose

I know it is my fault. My unwillingness to give her what she wants the most is dimming her light and fuck if it doesn’t make me sick. But every time I think of going through what we went through the last time, my heart stops and my lungs deflate. I feel like I am trapped in a tomb, with no oxygen every time my mind goes there. The problem now is...how do we overcome this?

“Babies, let’s go. Your aunties are waiting.” She gathers the kids getting them ready to go to Hamm’s for their playdates.

“Need me to help, baby?” I ask walking up behind her trying to wrap my arms around her waist. Instead of melting into me like she used to do, she moves to the side, averting my touch. My fingers tingle as everything in me commands me to pull her into my arms and make her feel...us, but right now isn’t the time and when I have no answer other than the one that is tearing us apart, I know it is not the time.

“No. I got this. We will be back later.” she says not looking at me. Fuck, it's killing me. This is not us. She walks towards the door, the kids babbling away about anything. I walk to my babies and kiss each of them like I do anytime they walk out of the door.

“Bye-bye, dada.”

“Bye, bye Angels. Be good for mommy.”

“Ok,” they say in unison. I can’t help but smile looking at their beautiful faces. Standing up, I look at my wife. I know I should say something.

“Rosy.” She turns and looks at me. Though briefly, it is long enough for me to see the pain and longing in her eyes, which in turn guts me. I swore on our wedding day that I would never hurt her, but here I am doing just that.

“Yes, Max.” I hate when she says my name like that.

“I love you,” I tell her, with nothing else to say. I just want her to remember that.

“I know.” She turns her back on me and I almost fall when she doesn’t say it back, but then I hear her whisper. “I love you too. That’s why it hurts.” She walks out the door. How the fuck did it get this bad?

I walk around the house for hours, looking at all the photos, the memories, the life we have built. My heart beats and chest swells as the warmth of our life encompasses me. It’s not that I don’t get it. We spent many nights while she was pregnant, talking about how many kids we wanted, and trust me, we are not near that number. I just… “Fuck.” Running my hands through my hair, I grab my keys and hop in my truck. No idea where I am going until I pull up into my parent’s driveway. I sit behind the wheel for a second, before sucking it up and getting out.

“There’s my boy. Are you hungry?” My mom asks as she flits around the kitchen cooking.

“Nah. Thanks, mom.” She turns and assesses me, her mom's eye on full effect.

“What’s wrong? You and Rose have a fight?” her hand on her hip she is ready to go upside my head. My head hangs as I tell her everything. What Rosy wants. What I am denying her. My fears. How she has changed. I just spill my guts, unaware of the tear that has evacuated my eye until it hits my hand. I feel her hand in my hair and I lean into her, always comforted by my mom.

“My strong, stubborn, boy. Your father and I didn’t raise you to be scared, Max. That is not who we are. We all lived through that time with you. None of us will ever forget it, my son. With that said, we love hard, and we make babies. That is the way of our family. Hell, if I hadn't had to have that surgery after Jace was born, we would have had more. You have to fulfill your life the way you promised your wife, Max. Don’t live in fear.” She kisses my cheek and steps back. I hear her and I know she is right, but fuck if I can do it.

“I don’t want to lose her mom. What if she doesn’t make it through this one next time?”

“Max, you could lose her another way. Is that what you want?” Jesus. This is the hardest shit.

I spend another hour or so with her, talking and listening. The takeaway is simple.

I have to go home and fix this.

CHAPTER SIX

ROSE

“Rosy?” Max asks as he comes into the bedroom. I’ve been in bed for a couple of hours now, just staring at the ceiling.

“Yeah?” I ask my voice tight.

“We need to talk.”

Well, that’s never good, I think as I sit up.