Page 25 of Sparks Still Fly

“I’m going to have a daughter.” I hesitantly pull my hand away from his shoulder, my fingers trembling. It’s as if his words are made of fragile glass, on the verge of shattering from the sharp edges of our complicated relationship. My ears start ringing. He says something else I don’t hear. Her name, maybe?

I’m going to have a daughter. A daughter. When did this happen? Who’s the mother? Who’s the person who gave him what he’s always wanted?

“I should get custody or guardianship or whichever one it is I need to make sure I’m the one that gets to raise her. Her mom, she... she died giving birth to her, and her dad was a good friend in the Corps.”

Her dad. Her dad. Her dad. Owen is not her biological father.

“Wait, back up. I need more information. This isn’t making any sense.”

He finally looks up at me, that look of defeat on his face making me want to lose all sense and do something foolish like hug him. I sit on my hands to keep myself from putting them anywhere near him.

Owen explains the situation with Monica and Clay, his eyes filling with tears when he talks about them. He looks at his lap as he continues the story.

My own tears threaten to spill, and I tell myself it’s only because seeing a grown man nearly cry would make anyone emotional. It’s not because seeing him hurting is making my chest hurt. It’s not because the thought of him being this upset makes me want to stand in front of him and protect him from whatever is making him feel this way. That’s not why I have to quickly wipe my eyes before he sees.

“I remember him,” I say with a shaky voice. “I liked him.”

“He liked you, too, sunshine.” He wipes a rogue tear off my cheek with the tip of his index finger and I force myself not to close my eyes at the warmth of his touch.

A moment passes without any words and though it’s subtle, I feel a shift happening. Like something consequential has changed between me and Owen. Obviously because we’re married, but also because we haven’t just existed like this in each other’s presence in so long. Sure, before it was through a computer screen, but I forgot how comfortable simply being with him is. How comforting.

“I called the lawyer handling everything. He told me any change to my relationship status at the moment wouldn’t be good for my case.” He looks up at me then with a lifetime of sadness in his eyes. “Please, Maeve. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious. We fucked up. I know. But I can’t let a drunken decision be the reason this baby’s life is changed forever. I can’t let her down. I can’t let Clay down. I can’t?—”

My heart feels like it’s splitting in two. He tries to speak, but a sob gets in the way instead and his chest starts to shake. His fists clench up by his ears as another cry shudders through him, and I rush closer to him with my arms outstretched. He curls into me, burying his face into the crook of my neck, and his trembling body seems to sink into the couch even further with each sob.

“Shhh. It’s all right, Owen. I’ve got you. We’ll sort this out.” He wraps both arms around me so tightly it almost hurts, but I let him take comfort in whatever way he needs right now. I let one of my hands rest on his head, brushing his hair off his forehead, the other rubbing circles on his back.

I don’t know how much time passes, but eventually he shifts, rubbing his fingers over his cheeks. When he moves to sit up, I give him the room to do so.

“I’m sorry. That’s so fucking embarrassing. It’s just been a stressful time and?—”

“Please don’t apologize for expressing how you’re feeling, Owen. It’s fine.” Maybe he remembers the words I’m echoing, maybe he doesn’t.

He nods, wiping at his cheek one last time before looking at me again. When he does, I feel the literal weight of his gaze. What he’s asking me without asking me again. What I’m about to agree to even if it means breaking my own heart a little more in the process.

I nod. He lets out a relieved breath.

16/

all common sense goes out the window.

owen

Did she just nod? Oh my god, she nodded. She’s agreeing to this completely insane thing I just asked her for.

Thank. Fuck.

I glance down my left arm to the golden band on my finger, and I can feel the heaviness of it weighing down my hand. The ring is simple, but unfamiliar, as if a strange growth has sprouted overnight. And now it’s mine to wear for the foreseeable future. Until I’m officially somebody’s father. Then we can do as Maeve wants and be rid of one another for good.

There’s nothing I want less than to be rid of her, but I have to prioritize this new role. Maybe one day we’ll get the timing right and I can try this again. I can start over with her. But that’s not a possibility right now and the faster I get the thought of her being my wife permanently out of my head, the better.

She’s still looking at me, eyes so wide I can nearly see when the leaden realization of our complicated reality hits her.

“So we’ll stay married for a little while.” She lets out a sharp breath.

“Listen, Maeve, I don’t want this to feel like a one-sided deal. I’m sure you’re gaining nothing out of being married to me other than a giant headache and lawyer fees, which I’m happy to pay for, by the way.” She rolls her eyes at me, and I don’t know whether to laugh at her dramatic display or be a little annoyed by her response.

“We both did this, Owen. It’s fine. I already keep my lawyer quite busy anyway, so I’m sure this is not going to be much more than whatever she already charges me.” She shifts her gaze to her feet, pulling her bottom lip all the way into her mouth and I know she’s got more to say. “She did mention a postnuptial agreement, though. You know... Just in case.”

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