When We Were Young

Heart to Heart

The hot water never felt so good. I stayed in the shower until my skin was red and prickly numb. It was strange without Skylar in the apartment. I had been living there almost a year and she called it our apartment, but without her there, it felt like I was just at her place.

I opened a beer in the kitchen, after I ordered some Chinese delivery. Not exactly a good meal like Rachel instructed, but cooking was not really in the forefront of my mind. Heading into our bedroom, I stopped short at the doorway. The sheets were pushed to the foot of the bed, half hanging onto the floor. The blanket was completely on the floor. Rarely did we not make the bed but we had sex yesterday morning, causing us both to run late. Skylar was meeting a new client and I had to get to work.

She had initiated the morning activities. After my alarm had sounded, she rolled to her side and positioned her bottom against my thighs knowing full well I would be hard. I slid my arm around her stomach and bit her shoulder gently. Skylar whimpered and I knew she was more than happy to let me take her. She wasn't wearing any panties so I wiggled out of my boxers and pulled her nighty up.

I slid into the depths between her thighs, her wetness not surprising but feeling so good that I almost came right away. We had sex on most mornings— sometimes twice—as we did yesterday.

Could that have been why she miscarried? I sat on the bed among the messy room and wondered if we had inadvertently caused it. No, there was something wrong with her.

I sipped my beer and pulled the sheets and blankets with one hand onto the bed. I racked my brain over and over, trying to think of what could have caused it, but maybe it just wasn't meant to be. Maybe this was a test to see if Skylar and I could last through tough times. We'd had our share, of course. I think we fought as most couples do. Yeah, sure, I would come home sometimes too late after grabbing a couple of beers after class. No big deal. Skylar would get grumpy and give me the silent treatment for about twenty minutes, get over it, I'd kiss her and that was that.

We didn't seem to have many issues.

Until now.

Sitting among the dirty sheets, I was confused. I was unsure if I should be relieved or devastated. Truly, I felt both. Was I ready to be a father? I didn't think so, but I was 28 now and Sky was 40. It was now or never if it was going to happen for us.

But above all else, above the feeling that something had been ripped from me, I was angry. Angry that Skylar never told me that she was pregnant the first time, even if I assumed. Angry that she never shared how she felt when it happened then, and angry now that she was shutting me out.

I chugged the rest of my beer and grabbed my phone. It was almost seven. I needed to talk to someone. I wasn't close enough to any of my friends from grad school. I couldn't call Robert because of Skylar's friendship with Annabelle. Samuel would be with his wife and kids. I couldn't bother them. There was nobody else I could turn to.

Scrolling through my contacts I debated for a moment before dialing. He wouldn't be mad, even it though it was late, and he was probably awake sipping his whisky by the fire.

"Hello."

"Pop, it's Albert," I said, almost embarrassed that I had actually called him.

"What's wrong, Albert," he asked, knowing immediately by the sound of my voice that something was wrong. Because he's my father, and I'm his son. I inhaled to continue, but instead started to cry.

My father listened without saying a word once I was able to speak. At a point, I heard him sniffle and I knew that he had been affected by this, too. He had almost been a grandfather; he was for a few months anyway. When I finished and pulled myself together, he waited a few moments before he spoke.