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.