arrogance [s.m]

twenty-four

-
[shawn]
-

i look around the nursery, completely exhausted after tidying it all up, and making sure everything was okay again. the guy to fix the wall came and went in the space of maybe four hours, saying that we just had to let the plaster dry, and then paint over it, which was easy enough since it wasn't much to cover. everything was back in its rightful place, and i had put away all the clothes, and fixed the crib. luckily i didn't break the actual wood, only broke the built up crib, so it was fairly easy to put back together.

i felt terrible about things.

i shouldn't have trashed the nursery, i knew i shouldn't have even touched it, after all, it's for my child. i shouldn't have even gotten drunk the night she left.

it was partly my fault, i didn't fight for her to stay, i should have just got myself together and explained everything to her then and there. i knew she wasn't annoyed about the kiss after i explained it, but i knew she was pissed about the nursery, even if she said she wasn't mad at me.

it hurt a lot when she said she was disappointed in me.

i look out of the window, seeing the sky cast into a matter of grey, rain beginning to find itself over the city of toronto. it was pretty much pathetic fallacy, i felt exactly how it looked outside.

i hadn't seen anya all morning, and all afternoon, but i knew she was up and about. i was eager to get everything sorted out, so i did. i stayed awake at night, and worked through the morning until the plastering guy came over. thankfully, i was finished with tidying up, so he could just plaster up the wall and leave. i found a new frame for the sonogram, and it was back on its place on the dresser.

the painting haunted me though. it seemed so perfect compared to the entire room. it showed anya and i in the perfect scene, not letting anything hurt us, or happen between us.

i've disobeyed her trust more than i can even imagine, and that is something i won't be able to forgive myself for.

if i put myself in her shoes, i know i would be just as angry with her as she is with me. it isn't even like i trashed it by just tipping a few things out of drawers, i trashed the entire room. the room i know she and i spent a lot of time on, and the room we perfected for our child, and i managed to ruin all of that in one drunk night.

i shake my head, letting a small sigh pass my lips, before leaving the room, shutting the door lightly behind me, before walking into the lounge, seeing anya asleep on the couch, her legs bent and her hand resting over her bump, the other hand holding her cheek. i smile softly, taking the soft grey blanket from the armchair, draping it over anya, tucking the blanket around her.