They make eye contact and he stops to talk. “Good weekend?” She takes out her cell phone and places it on her desk, along with a pack of mints. “It was okay. How about you?” She looks up to meet his golden brown eyes. They used to draw her in and make her feel full, completed, loved, and now those eyes are full of memories. A flashback of Timothy agreeing they should separate. It was after the second miscarriage. Carla had been devastated. Timothy hadn’t comforted her the way she expected him to. After all, it was both their loss, yet he seemed to hold it together just fine, whereas Carla had to muster every ounce of energy to report the sports. She focused on work to get through the drama. They put baby making aside so that Carla could have some time to heal. A month turned into two, two turned into four and four turned into six. During that time, in their second year of marriage, they drifted farther apart, unable to see each other’s need to have a baby. The desire burned inside of Carla, fueling anger toward Timothy for not wanting it as much as she did.
