Chapter 6

Ariel woke up with a pang in her chest. She looked at the clock on the nightstand. 6:30. Light was coming through the beige curtain on her window. A framed picture of her and David from a friend's wedding sat on the bookshelf. She was smiling, looking down while David kissed her forehead. Ariel pushed the covers off of her. The feeling of relief was coupled with an emptiness that the apartment reflected. She staggered through each room, absorbing the distance between herself and the mirrors, paintings, bookshelves, and chairs. Each object felt two-dimensional and moving closer didn't settle her. She wrapped herself in a bathrobe and made coffee. She gazed over her mug at the couch which seemed alarmingly red today. "I have to get out of here," she mumbled to herself. Without eating breakfast or taking a shower, she threw on some jeans and one of David's old t-shirts and left.

It was bright and she had forgotten sunglasses. It felt like a year since she had left the apartment, so trying to conceive of where she last parked her car seemed futile. Still, the '91 gray mercury sable sat only a few hundred feet to her left. She rummaged through her purse to find her keys. When she started the car, Neil Young's Harvest Moon boomed through her small speakers. She opened all of her windows and listened to the traffic.

Chapter 5

Ariel turned off the television. She got up and joined her husband in the dark bedroom. She turned on the light. He sat slouched at the edge of the bed with his briefcase hanging below his feet.
"I know it." He murmured. "It's fine. I'll be ok."
She walked towards the bed and put her arms around him. He started to cry.
"I feel like I've lost something, Ariel."
"I know." She kissed the back of his neck.
"No, I mean...something inside myself. Something I had when I met you, and now can't find."
"That's how it goes." She sighed.
"It doesn't have to be. You still have it. I see it inside you. Every day, whether you show it to me or not." He pulled her long hair behind her shoulders and put his hand on her thigh. "I wouldn't be a good father."
She kissed him. "I love you."
"Me too. But it's not about that."

They sat there holding hands until it was dark out, and then Ariel began to pack a small bag.
"Don't." David said. "I'll go. There's so much of you here already."
"Ok." She replied. "Where will you go?"
"Does it matter?"
"I guess it doesn't."
He didn't bother to pack. He just collected his toothbrush and walked away. Ariel curled up on the bed with her wind-up doll. The room was dark again. It began to rain.

Chapter 4

Three weeks went by and Ariel had started writing several drafts of a letter to David. Some were elaborate goodbyes, some were ultimatums, others were suggestions on how to fix things between them. She had the day off. David was still at work. She picked up her glass of ice water and left the office. They had bought a new couch, candy apple red. The rest of the room consisted of neutral colors. When they were picking it out Ariel had become hopeful; as if the agreement on a couch could be a precursor to a resolution to the larger obstacles between them. It was well out of their price range, but David said they should live a little. She sat on the couch and picked up The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter and flipped to the page where she had left off. It had been nearly six months since she bought it and she was only forty pages from finishing. She couldn't seem to read more than a chapter at a time. She put the book down. The apartment was no longer her home. It was a place filled top to bottom with silence. She could leave, but she owed him more than that, so she turned on the television and waited.

David came home to his wife watching America's Next Top Model, Tyra Banks giving constructive criticism while Ariel clutched a square pillow with anticipation. In the beginning of their courtship, he thought Ariel was above such cliches, slowly he began to adjust to them, but would never fully accept.
"Hey there," he yawned.
"Hi."
"Pretty good episode?"
"It's the season finale."
"Well, don't let me interrupt."
"I won't."
He moved slowly towards to bedroom to put down his things. He thought about the words he wanted to say, the words he could say, and the words that would accomplish what he desired to accomplish. The bedroom looked different to him now, the hope and joy of their beginning had transformed into a foggy tension that neither of them knew how to navigate through. He sat on the bed a moment, observing the pictures and oil paintings, the potted lilies in the window. Beauty was not what was lacking here, it was something less tangible.

Chapter 3

She stood over the salmon and reached for the olive oil. David was still sitting on the couch and had switched to a crossword. As the fish changed color, Ariel imagined the living room without David. Then, slowly, she began to imagine each room empty; the study filled with only her books and laptop, her posters and small treasures. David glanced at her.

"We should talk about this. We can't keep ending the conversation by one of us leaving the room."
She looked up at him. "I wonder who set up that precendent."
He walked over to the kitchen and put his hand on her shoulder. "I don't want to fight."
She relaxed her posture. "The first time I bring up having children you blow me off. How am I supposed to be acting right now?"
"I'm just not ready."
"When we met you said you wanted a big family, didn't you? What happened to that?"
He looked towards the refrigerator and back at her. "I just want it to be us for a while longer."
She placed the salmon and asparagus delicately on a white serving platter. "Well, I don't know if I can wait that long."
He took off the lid to the pot holding the rice. "Let me think about it, okay?" He put his hands around her shoulders and stroked her neck. "I love you. You know that, right?"
She exhaled deeply. "I do."

Chapter 2

David worked for Eversharp, a corporation that commissions people to sell high-end knives. He paid for his own training, but had enough wealthy acquaintances via his family that he was able to maintain a relatively good living. Every day he had between three and five appointments, with each one lasting about an hour. Most days he was gone for close to nine hours, between driving across town and the gaps between sessions. His meals were usually rushed; which meant chocolate-chip protein bars and kombucha, with the occasional package of beef jerky thrown in.

Ariel tied together her blue dress and walked down the steps of their apartment complex. She worked for Billy's, an independently owned clothing boutique on the strip. Seventy percent of the clientele were college-aged locals, the other thirty were tourists asking for directions.  Her manager, Victoria, never took a liking to her. Victoria was the type of woman who voluntarily listened to the music Ariel was forced to.  The products were to her taste, so Ariel dismissed the majority of her silent complaints. She would come home with a new scarf, skirt, or dress, and David never objected. The job was to support her hobbies and their savings account.

Today, they came home at the same time. She threw her keys on the kitchen counter and lazily opened the refrigerator door. David went straight for the couch and put on The Daily Show.

"Well, either we need to go to the grocery store, or we can go out," she said finally.
"Grocery store. Going out sounds painful."
"Fine, I'll go."
He turned towards her. "I'll go with you."
"No, you finish your show. Just tell me what you want."
 "I want for you not to be mad at me."
"We're mad at each other, but I don't feel like talking about it." She started towards the door.
"Fish, brown rice, and broccoli."
"Do you have a preference what kind of fish?"
"No, you can pick that."
"Thanks. I'll be back." She left.

Chapter 1

When Ariel was single, she made the same thing for herself every morning; two eggs, double fiber wheat toast, and three slices of tomato. Sometimes she would assemble these to make a sandwich. Before she met David she was an avid coffee drinker, but in years past he had convinced her of the benefits in drinking green or white tea instead. Whenever she would pass by a coffee shop she would stop and stare longingly inside before walking away.

This morning she prepared hard boiled eggs, sliced avocado, and opened two small containers of yogurt. David walked to the kitchen and put on the kettle.

"Why didn't you come to bed?" she asked.
"I didn't want to wake you." He faced the stove.
"I always want you to wake me."  She put her fingers through his soft black hair and he turned around. He put his arms around her.
"I fear I'm not interesting to you anymore. There's something else that's caught your attention."
She held him tight. "Nothing could divert my thoughts from you."

She watched him tie his tie in the mirror and wrapped her arms around his waist.  "I love you so," she whispered in his ear. "Let's have a baby."
His eyes widened as she saw her expression harden.
"Why?" he said. "We're so young, and only been married three years."
"We're not that young," she sighed. "And we've been together seven years." Her hands left his waist and she walked into the living room. He followed her.
"Haven't I always been good to you?"
"Yes."
"Then why are you doing this?"
"I'm not planning an attack, David. I'm trying to build a family with you."
"I can't do this right now." He grabbed his coat and hat and walked out.

An Introduction

She was born in late September in 1980 and never learned how to ride a bike. She grew to accept this fact as one of many irregularities in her childhood. Everyone that she became close to in her post-adolescent life challenged her, however. Timidly, she would put one foot on the ground and whirl the other over the seat and attempt to pedal. Naturally, she fell and would continue to fall like the withered leaves every year. 

In the winter, her husband gave up. He left her to her books and shelves of vintage nick knacks. Her most prized was a wind up baby doll who waved its tiny plastic arms in circles. She would watch it come to life on her pillow and fall asleep to clicking sounds. He would come home late from work and sleep on the sofa so as not to disturb her.


She dreamt of another life. One that was free of concern over in-laws, date nights, and intercourse. She saw a child, a girl. She would push her on a swing set and sing "Suzanne." She bonded with the other mothers about scheduling nap and snack times, the lonely evening hours, and clothing swaps. 


She woke up and started to make breakfast.