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It’s been a whole week, and Brian and I haven’t said hardly a word to one another. It was a good thing, too, seeing as that I wanted to speak to my kids anyway. As I’m feeding my baby girl, I hear him coming down the steps all dressed up. I can feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to give him the benefit of knowing that.

"I’m going to a Christian charity event. I’ll be home late."

"Tell ‘Charity’ I said hi."

He lightly groans at the comment I made, but I didn’t care.

"It’s not a date, I’m serious."

"I don’t care, Brian, alright? Just go and have a good time."

"Momma...?" began Christopher. "Can...can me and Gracie go to the park tomorrow?"

"Of course, sweetie. And maybe afterward, we’ll go to Baskin Robbins for your favorite..."

He gasps happily, "TOOTIE FRUITIE ICE CREAM?!"

"Your one and only..."

"YAY!"

I smile at him as I take Grace Lynn out of her high chair. As I’m patting her little back, I can still feel Brian’s eyes on me and my kids.

He walked over towards the kitchen table to grab his car keys. Leaning in reaching for them, he whispers to me, "Don’t you dare try to win them over with ice cream and park swings. Just remember, I’m the sole provider for them now."

I just look at him, not listening to a word he said to me. I whisper back, "Just get the fuck out."

Angered by my preposition, he yanks the keys off the table, leaving out the house. "Well, it’s just you and me again tonight, guys..." Chris smiles jumping on the kitchen chair.

"Can...can we watch movies and eat pizza, Momma?"

I love it when he calls me that. As if I’m more than his mother.

"We sure can, sweetie."

"I missed you, Momma...you’re...you’re not gonna leave us again, are you?"

I get up from my seat, and hug him tightly.

"Never, Chris....Momma’s not leaving you again. I promise..."

Later that night, I’m fast asleep with Chris and Gracie in my arms. We had a lot of fun: watching "Pirates of the Carribean" on DVD, eating sausage and cheese pizza, and imitating the movie with my son as Jack Sparrow. It’s something that I truly missed, and it’s something I don’t want taken away from me again, and that’s seeing my children and seeing their innocent happiness. Brian may be the sole provider as he claims, but I put out the long hard hours of labor birthing them. No one, not even the Littrell basket case will stand in my way of spending time with them.

It was nearly 1am, and I finally make it home. I don’t know if I should even call it home anymore, since my ex is living there now. Now, I know that God says you should forgive, but I draw the line when it comes to ‘forgiving’ something this big. She became unfaithful to me. I’ve done nothing wrong, and I’m to forgive? I don’t think so. With those inane thoughts running around in my brain, I open the door, and walk into the living room sitting my suitcase down.

Instantly, I see Deanna and my kids sleeping on the couch in front of the snowy television set. I smile at the sight; I had no other choice but to do so. I sigh, walking into the kitchen to grab something to drink. From inside, I can hear Grace and Christopher yawning through their light slumber. Then, I hear her tell them to head on upstairs for bed. Deep down, I liked hearing that said to them by her rather than me. I say that everyday, but it’s just something about her voice, it’s soothing to a child’s ears. No, I shouldn’t even think those sweet thoughts about her.

She’s forever known to me as a traitor, nothing more. Getting out of my seat, I walk out into the living room; I see her still lying on the couch with her feet propped on the arm. She looks ahead at me for about a clean 5 seconds, then back at the TV, watching infomercials.

"So, they’re off to bed?" I ask while sitting in a recliner opposite from her.

"Yep..." she said to me, not making any eye contact. Good. I didn’t want her to.

"How was the benefit?"

"It was alright. Better than last year, I suppose. Why are you so interested in it all of a sudden?"

"Can’t a person ask you a question without being given a third degree?" she gets up from the couch, heading for the steps.

I stopped her from going up. Please, don’t ask me why. "I’m...I’m sorry about that...um...we need to talk..."

Her gaze, her blue hazel gaze burned through me, cold and unfeeling. I guess I deserved that. After all, what I said to her was wrong, and...

Am I weakening around her now?

"Brian, we have nothing to talk about as far as I’m concerned. I’m going to bed..."

I watch her walking up the steps, and watch her turn the corner disappearing from sight. I still care for her. For some unknown reason, and by some unknown force, my feelings for Deanna began flooding back to me at once. I don’t understand it! Why must she swim in my blood? Is she truly the one I want to be with for the rest of my life? Surely, she was 4 years ago, but...she cheated on me! I’m constantly forcing these feelings down my throat, purging away the old feelings for the one I called, ‘beloved’.

But every time I try, the feelings I once had for her, the warm, gushy feelings that I once dispensed from my body has never left. Why kid myself anymore? I have to tell her I still care for her, but am I ready to say ‘love’? 'This is drivin’ me up a fuckin’ wall...' I say to myself. I want to tell her tonight, but she doesn’t want anything to do with me this night. Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow, while sleep is no longer clouding her mind.

The next day, I open my eyes, and I’m met with the suns harsh, but illuminating rays. I sit up and stretch, then head out of bed grabbing my robe. The first thing I smell was bacon frying and coffee brewing in the kitchen.

"Hmm...looks like after I’m heading to Denny’s again," I say to myself as I’m leaving the room, heading down the steps and into the kitchen. There, I see Grace Lynn in her high chair, Chris sitting down, and Brian making breakfast. I go into the fridge taking out a half empty carton of orange juice. I sit down and pour me a glass.

"I hope you’re hungry..." he says, knowing that he’s talking to the kids.

"Deanna? Are you hungry?" He wasn’t talking to the kids. He was talking to me...what is he getting at?

"Um...yeah, thanks..."

Brian, smiling, walks over to the table with a skillet full of brown crisp bacon with over easy eggs on the side. As he puts them both on my plate, he says,

"Here ye’ go." I look up at him, puzzled.

"You’re fixing me breakfast now? What gives?"

"I’m just trying to make a good gesture, is all. Toast?"

"Please."

He brings me two pieces of toast covered with butter and grape jam.

"My favorite..."

"I know it is...I hope you like it."

"I’m pretty sure I will..."

I take a bite of his eggs. Delicious. But I’m not telling him. I refuse to give him the benefit of the doubt. Why is he being so nice to me all of a sudden? Ever since I moved back over here, he’s never done anything like that for me. All he ever did was yell at me for doing something wrong. It’s like living with my overbearing parents again for the past month. After finishing breakfast, I get up, walking to the sink with my plate.

"No no...I got it..." I step back, being even more puzzled.

"Brian...?" He looks over at me, beaming; a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"No reason...I’m just having a good morning with my family, that’s all...is that so wrong?"

With his family? Including me? Ok. Something is DEFINITELY not right.