It’s as if the objects around me are somehow changed because Nicholas and I have fought, their colours are duller or I can’t remember ever seeing them before or something. I can’t believe we’ve done this to each other or that Joel has such a hold over us when he’s not here, that he could cause us to argue so. Nicholas is my life, my blood. He’s the father of my baby. I need him to love me and want me. I want to marry him, to be his forever. I don’t want to fight. After a while, I go into the bedroom and curl up on his side of the bed. There’s a lump under the pillow which I identify as the t-shirt he wore to bed last night. It was cold. Nicholas feels the cold. I pull the balled up top from under the pillow. I take off my own top and slip the t-shirt on, next to my naked skin. I hug it close to me, inhaling the scent of him that lingers in the cotton and wipe my tears on the hem. Then I lay back on the bed and try to sleep. There’s a dull ache in my lower back but I discount it because I know I’ve been on my feet a lot today when I should have taken it easier.
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