Sticks & Stones.

7

"Babe, we should travel." I said, staring at the high ceiling of our bedroom. I'd left the lamp on all night while I attempted to finish reading a novel—my mind was running laps so I eventually gave up. "I don't know where but...we need the escape."

"Gio, what?" Mateo peeled his eyes open and
draped his arm over my waist. "What are you talkin' about?" I glanced over at the clock and realized that my rambling woke him up at approximately 4:25am. It was the weekend and one of the rare occasions when Mateo didn't have to work. He hadn't mentioned Daniel to me again and I was glad; I thought he would have a fit when we came home but he didn't. He was just eerily silent.

"I just need a break." I bit my lip, my eyes dancing to every corner in the room. "How about Bali? O-Or Punta Cana, or Dubai. We could leave the kids with my parents." I rambled. "Teo, we could even go to your mom's house for all I care." I practically begged. I loved his mother but at this point, I was reaching. Mateo hated New Orleans.

He groaned against his pillow and took his arm away from me—I felt the bed shift so I looked over to see him walking to the bathroom. I guess he was up for good. "Mateo, do you hear me?" I hopped up and followed him into the bathroom. I watched as he turned on the shower and ruffled his hair.

"Yes, I hear you, Gio." He said in a gruff voice. "But that's not going to happen." He started to unbutton his pajama shirt. I raised my eyebrow at the tone he was using.

"For one, stop talking to me like I'm a damn child and two, why the hell not?" I folded my arms over my chest.

"I have work to do! And believe it or not, we don't have money to just blow out of our ass." His snarky tone only pissed me off more. "We can't just up and leave because you want to gossip with your friends and take their sorry ass advice." He blurted and I could tell he wanted to take it back—but he didn't. I didn't know how he knew about Kiya and I's sneaky phone calls and texts but I wasn't surprised. He was all knowing, I guess.

"Excuse me? That's the only damn advice I can take because you don't want to see a counselor despite how much we need it." I argued. I was tired of this shit. I wasn't the one at fault!

"We don't need a counselor." He tensed up. I think he sensed where this was going.

"You know, ever since Matthew, our marriage has been on the rocks." His name spilled from my mouth before I could rethink my words.

"Gio, leave him out of this." I snapped my head in his direction.

"What?" I hissed. I felt a growing lump in my throat at his dismissiveness. "You've left him out long enough. It's time we talk." He turned off the shower and stood in defeat. I guess he realized I wouldn't let him wash in peace. "You just don't care, do you?" My lip quivered and I felt my cheeks stinging. I regretted bringing up this topic.

"Giovanni, I don't want to talk about this now or ever."

I didn't say anything because some fights aren't worth fighting. Teo wasn't going to budge and I didn't feel like beating a dead horse.

I turned on my heels and headed out of the room. My head hung low while I shuffled aimlessly through the home, making sure to avoid the forbidden room.

But I couldn't take it anymore, I entered anyway.

I didn't realize my eyes were closed until the cool air hit my legs—I slowly peeled them open and couldn't fight my tears as I slowly closed the door behind me. My baby.

Pictures of him were still strung along the wall—the room still looked the same as the day it happened. His crib was still freshly cleaned, various stuffed animals filled the bed. I sighed, dragging my fingers over the dust that covered the rails. "My baby." I mewled and glanced at the rocking chair that I once held him in.