𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐏 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 - 42

His fork falls on the plate, breaking the silence that had been created between us, I wake him from his thoughts and feel his on me.

"You are afraid of not being a good dad" the words escape from my mouth without me being able to stop them. The surprise in my voice is audible even from meters away.

He doesn't say anything. A sound, a word, a little movement, nothing at all. Twenty seconds of the clock go by, which seems, in reality, to be at least ten minutes

I watch him carefully, tears wet his eyes and knowing him he is doing everything to not let them fall.

He has been forced, for years, to keep everything inside, you can't imagine how many tears he didn't let go because of his father. He always taught him that crying, showing one's feelings, would make him weak and above all, he always told him that he was like a "sissy".

"Ryan"

"Can we not talk about it?"

"No! We need to talk about it "

"Please no"

"You will be a very good dad"

"How do you know?"

"Because you love our baby from the first moment we found out of its existence, that day you collapsed on the ground and started crying with happiness. You caressed my belly with a delicacy and sweetness that I had never seen before. You're doing great"

I hug him tightly to me, my hand in his hair making delicate movements, making gentle caresses. I let him throw out everything that is upsetting him, letting him go into my arms.

"It's okay to cry, it's okay"

***

"Piece of shit!" he hits me with another kick, lowers and slaps me, another kick, another slap.

When will this torture ever end?

"Please stop" the last thread of voice present in me, once again, is not enough to make him stop. And the sequence is repeated again, kick, slap, kick, slap.

I scream, not loud enough to be heard, but I scream, as if my voice had suddenly returned. I open my eyes, I see nothing, everything is completely dark, so dark that I'm wondering if my eyes are really open.

I reach out on the nightstand of my bed and take my cell phone to check the time. 03:42 at night. "It was just a nightmare, it wasn't real," I tell myself, mostly to try to calm down.

I turn on the light in my room and my eyes instantly land on the empty side next to me.

I get up slowly trying not to make sudden movements, they say that when the mother sleeps the baby also sleeps. I turn on the corridor light and slowly go down the stairs. I lean on the door jamb and stop to observe it. The only light that illuminates the room is the one of his computer screen, his eyes, fixed on it, carefully scroll through every word, reflected in the glasses almost reaching the end of the nose.