Complicated

Chapter Sixty Two: Sensitive

Day in and day out.
Watch him scream, watch him shout.
Through the silence.
Through the silence.
Give him ears, give him lies.
Give some point to the cries.
And the violence

David Cook – Mr Sensitive

The Crime Labs were eerily quiet and devoid of criminalists. Grace had never realized how silent and lonesome this place became when you were restricted to it. Their case loads as of late had been light. Grace was spending her days going over trial notes for her court dates that were coming up instead of analysing evidence.

She hated the days like this. It gave her too much time to think on the state of her marriage and the sham that it was becoming. People asked after Don regularly, it ate at her that she couldn't answer their questions. By now her co-workers knew that the two of them were temporarily separated, she could see the pitying look in their gaze as they flickered towards her through the glass panes. It was no secret that she was pregnant, that one had been blown wide open when Don was taken and the contents of their SUV had been passed around the lab in a bid to find him and of course now she was showing.

Grace's fingers grasped the snack sized bag of carrot sticks she had been craving recently from the fridge along with the tub of butter cream she had whipped up last night after making cupcakes. Of all the cravings she had had recently this was the most insane. It had started at stupid o'clock this morning and continued through out the day.

"That's one bizarre combination." Don stated from the doorway as he closed the door to the break room firmly behind him.

Grace tilted her head up towards him as she crunched a carrot stick lathered in butter cream between her teeth. She felt her temper spike as her hormones rushed through her body. There was fury deep within her, it pulsed and raged as she laid her blazing grey eyes upon him. Her hand slid inside the back pocket of her trousers withdrawing a thin photocopy.

"Cravings started a few days ago." she told Don, slapping the sonogram of their baby into his palm. "We're fine by the way."

"Grace..." he began, staring at the image as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"You didn't come." Grace accused, overwhelmed by the well of feelings boiled over inside her body. "I waited for you, I thought you would come so we could both see an image of this baby but you never showed."

"I couldn't handle it." Don told her, meeting her furious gaze head on. "I won't lie to you Grace, I don't think I can do this any more. I don't want this."

"What?" she uttered incredulously, her hands on her hips.

"What happened changed me Grace and I don't understand why the two of us ever thought that bringing a child into a world like this was a good idea." Don snapped.

He knew from the moment the words actually penetrated her hearing that it was like throwing a stick of dynamite down a mine shaft and watching it explode. Her mouth hung open sucking in a deep breath as her eyes narrowed and her small fists clenched.

"What the fuck Don?" Grace practically screamed at him. "You want me to get rid of this baby? Is that what you want? It's too late to change your mind now Don."

Even as she spoke Don knew that he was getting nowhere, that there wasn't a hope in hell that his wife would have gotten rid of this baby. They were Catholic, they didn't believe in abortion anyway. He knew she was past the point of no return since she was almost six months pregnant. His therapist said these feelings were normal, that he was frightened of the full on commitment this baby would bring coupled with his own emotional trauma.

The reason he was lashing out so badly was because he was bottling everything up and his support network was fractured. In a normal circumstance he would have told Grace everything, he would have buried himself in her and this plague of darkness would never have had the chance to immerse him.