Emerald Eyes

He's been living with you for about a month. He's gone to see his wife a few days a week, for the sake of the kids. He usually is up before you are, saying he went to drop his kids off. You give him so much respect for keeping his composure around his children, never letting his tension with his wife ever show.

You made yourself get up before he got back from dropping his kids off at school. You decided you would cook his a nice breakfast for all his hard work. Not only was he still continuing to go to his other home, we was helping out at yours too. Always driving you places so you didn't have to. Letting you sleep as long as you needed so the baby, and you, had a lot rest. And you always woke up to an extravegant breakfast. He was perfect in every way possible and you're thankful every day that you can wake up knowing he's there.

Now, it was your turn to repay him for al his nice acts. You cracked a few eggs into a bowl and beat them frantically until it was a yellow liquid in the bowl. You added diced tomatos and some chopped spinach and decided on making him a veggie omlete. While the egg was cooking, you put coffee on the pot and prepared homemade hash browns.

You flipped the omlete and hurried to the toaster to put plain bread in. As you did, you heard the front door open.

"Something smells amazing!" you heard a cheerful voice yell. You hear the footsteps against the hardwood floor become louder. You felt an arm around your stomach, and warm air hit your neck.

"Is this all for little old me?" he purred into your ear.

You giggled and said it was the least you could do for how kind he's been to you. You feel him smile against the back of your neck. You hear him inhale your scent and exhale his warm breath against your skin, sending immediate chills down your spine. He kisses your ear and whispers to you lightly.

"You're amazing."

You smile and tell him to sit down and get ready for a delicious meal. He grins, bearing every tooth possible to see and eagerly sits down at the table. As you take the bread out of the toaster, you ask him if he wants anything to drink besides coffee.

He shakes his head, "I'm good, babe. If I need it I'll get it. You're already working too hard and you are pregnant."

You shoo his concerns away, telling him that you like to do nice things for him. Truth was, you didn't feel tired at all. It was like your little being inside of you liked helping out as well, and didn't want to get you over worked making you have to stop. You smile at this thought, and continue to convince those caring green eyes you were perfectly okay.

Handing him his perfect breakfast, you ask him how taking the boys to school went. He took a sip of his coffee and sighed, "It's all becoming so hard to deal with, Rox. Like, they keep asking me why I haven't been home in forever, and when I'm actually coming back home. What am I suppose to say to that? They look so heartbroken and it's tearing me up inside." He takes a forceful stab at his eggs with a fork.

You put your fork full of hash browns down. You get that feeling of guilt again, the feeling you've had since this relationship began. Now, not only were you hurting the relationship between the marriage, but now his relationship with his own children was being teared apart. You rested your head in your left hand, becoming stressed already so early in the morning.

You felt a hand on your arm supporting your head. "Hey," he says quietly. You look up from the table and instantly see those emerald eyes. "Don't get worried. None of this is your fault. Don't stress at all, my boys aren't your problem, and neither is Adie. You just worry about our new little girl being brought into this life. Everything will be okay, I promise."

His eyes looked like they wanted you to believe them, but you can tell behind that they were telling you there was pain in them. That deep down he was being broken apart. This was hurting him more than he wanted to say. He didn't want to cause you stress, for the sake of your little girl growing inside of your stomach. You appriciate the gesture, but you would be so much less stressed out if he just talked to you about this all.

You wanted to know how he felt. You wanted to hear why he chose to stick with you and not her. You wanted to hear how he missed his boys too much to be apart from them for so long. You wanted to see him cry to show he really does care. You don't like to see him upset, but any emotion right now about this all would be better than the blank face you've been seeing for the past month. You were sick of seeing that same fake plastered face, telling you everything was okay. You wanted to see his true emotions. You wanted to see the man behind all those emotions in every song he ever wrote. You wanted to see the poet inside of him.