‹ Prequel: Sickness
Cure
Galaxy
Every single person who has ever lived has lived in the Milky Way Galaxy.
It’s part of your universal address, your every thing.
My every thing.
Today, I’m am lying on my bed, and I am crying.
Not bawling or sobbing, just…crying. Letting the tears roll down my cheeks quietly.
I am so happy that I will have a baby with Ana, but I so desperately wanted one with Rose. That would have been a beautiful baby.
So I’ve just been soaking up the pillows all day. I took a sick day for work. Ana did not. She went into her job today beaming. Everything about her is glowing, and I don’t blame her.
It’s about 5:30 when I hear the door open. Ana is home.
“Jack?” I hear her call.
“In the bedroom!” I reply.
I can hear the “cluck” of her heals as she walks into our room. She puts her briefcase down on the chair we use for the desk with the computer. She puts her hands on her hips and smiles.
“What have you been doing all day?”
“Just lying here.”
“That all?”
“Yeah.”
She walks over and sits down next to me. She brushes my hair away from my face and looks at me earnestly.
“You’ve been crying,” she whispers.
I avert my eyes.
“About what, sweetie?”
I am afraid to answer. What would she say if I told her why I was crying? No. I must tell her. She is my wife, and I love her. I love her more now than I ever have before. I love her more than anything.
“Thinking about Rose,” I say.
She nods for me to continue.
“She was my first love, you know? I was just unhappy that I never had the opportunity to know what it would be like living with her, having a child with her.”
Ana is silent. She doesn’t look at me.
“Jack, honey. I know that you loved Rose very much. I know that you still do. I just – I just don’t know why you aren’t happy with what we have,” she says.
“I am happy with what I have,” I say defensively.
“Sometimes I feel like you aren’t. Whenever you’re upset, it’s always about Rose. It seems like you don’t feel anything other than happiness or passion when you’re with me. I want to know that you can cry about me, feel angry or frustrated with me, be able to defy my opinions. I want you to love me, Jack. Love isn’t passion. Love is every emotion. And loving someone else means trusting them to stay with you and forgive you no matter what their emotions are. Please, Jack,” Ana says crying.
“Ana, you know I –,”
“Please.”
I sigh and push myself up into a sitting position. We are facing each other.
It is silent. Neither one of us says a word. I only do five things.
I reach out and put my hand over her slightly bulging stomach, and then I wrap my arms around her waist so that I can rest my head against it. I close my eyes and listen.
Last, I say, “I think I can hear a heartbeat. That’s our love right there.”
Here is when Ana begins to sob. Her black hair hangs over her face, and her body shakes from emotion.
I just keep holding on.
It’s part of your universal address, your every thing.
My every thing.
Today, I’m am lying on my bed, and I am crying.
Not bawling or sobbing, just…crying. Letting the tears roll down my cheeks quietly.
I am so happy that I will have a baby with Ana, but I so desperately wanted one with Rose. That would have been a beautiful baby.
So I’ve just been soaking up the pillows all day. I took a sick day for work. Ana did not. She went into her job today beaming. Everything about her is glowing, and I don’t blame her.
It’s about 5:30 when I hear the door open. Ana is home.
“Jack?” I hear her call.
“In the bedroom!” I reply.
I can hear the “cluck” of her heals as she walks into our room. She puts her briefcase down on the chair we use for the desk with the computer. She puts her hands on her hips and smiles.
“What have you been doing all day?”
“Just lying here.”
“That all?”
“Yeah.”
She walks over and sits down next to me. She brushes my hair away from my face and looks at me earnestly.
“You’ve been crying,” she whispers.
I avert my eyes.
“About what, sweetie?”
I am afraid to answer. What would she say if I told her why I was crying? No. I must tell her. She is my wife, and I love her. I love her more now than I ever have before. I love her more than anything.
“Thinking about Rose,” I say.
She nods for me to continue.
“She was my first love, you know? I was just unhappy that I never had the opportunity to know what it would be like living with her, having a child with her.”
Ana is silent. She doesn’t look at me.
“Jack, honey. I know that you loved Rose very much. I know that you still do. I just – I just don’t know why you aren’t happy with what we have,” she says.
“I am happy with what I have,” I say defensively.
“Sometimes I feel like you aren’t. Whenever you’re upset, it’s always about Rose. It seems like you don’t feel anything other than happiness or passion when you’re with me. I want to know that you can cry about me, feel angry or frustrated with me, be able to defy my opinions. I want you to love me, Jack. Love isn’t passion. Love is every emotion. And loving someone else means trusting them to stay with you and forgive you no matter what their emotions are. Please, Jack,” Ana says crying.
“Ana, you know I –,”
“Please.”
I sigh and push myself up into a sitting position. We are facing each other.
It is silent. Neither one of us says a word. I only do five things.
I reach out and put my hand over her slightly bulging stomach, and then I wrap my arms around her waist so that I can rest my head against it. I close my eyes and listen.
Last, I say, “I think I can hear a heartbeat. That’s our love right there.”
Here is when Ana begins to sob. Her black hair hangs over her face, and her body shakes from emotion.
I just keep holding on.