| "�ibhleann, I need to know sometime soon, babe," Mark said, a touch of whine and exasperation in his voice. She sighed, her hands on her hips. "Three days isn't enough, Mark. I told you, I need some time to think about this. It's a big decision and a big commitment. I can't rush into this." "I'm leaving in two hours. It's gonna kill me being away and not knowing." "Well, I'm sorry," she snapped, "but this isn't just about you. It's about me too. I'm just as much a part of this as you are." Mark ran a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. "I know that. But I hate anticipation." "Get over it." Mark's eyebrow rose. He had never heard her say anything like that before to anyone, not just him. She was ususally so easy-going and laid back. "What has gotten into you?" he asked calmly. She shook her head, turning away from him and walking to the picture window a few feet away. "�ibhleann?" He walked to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "I can't be married to you if you're not going to be married to me." "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She shurnk down in her shoes a little lower. "I can not be married to someone who's never there. You're always gone on tour or in the studio or somewhere other than with me. I can't deal with that, Mark. I just can't do things like that." He took a step backward away from her, his mouth hanging open in complete shock. She turned slowly, tears in her eyes. "I need someone here with me to help me do this. I can't do it on my own." She took a slow breath. "And if you can't do that, I can't do this," she said slowly, taking the ring off her finger. She held it out to him and he just stared at it, as if it were about to jump out of her fingers to bite him. "No," he said slowly, his eyes shifting up to hers, the tears forming. "No, baby, please. Don't make me choose between you and my job." Her jaw was set, her eyes intent, and she still held the ring out. "�ibhleann," he turned in a circle completely confused and taken aback. "That's not fair." "Well, maybe if your job was a little more forgiving, things would be different. But that's what it is," she said firmly. He snatched the ring from her hand and stalked out of the room. "I've got to pack," he threw over his shoulder angrily. She crossed her arms over her chest, clutching her shoulders as she turned back to the window. A single tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away with the back of a trembling hand. The ride to the airport was silent, neither Mark nor �ibhleann looking at the other. Mark kept spinning the engagement ring between his fingers as he stared out the window at the trees and houses blurring past. It was the longest half hour drive to town �ibhleann had ever driven, and the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach just deepened and worsened. About five minutes before the exit to the airport, Mark broke the silence. "Are you just dropping me off or what?" he asked, his voice gruff. "I'll walk you in if you want me to," she answered. "It's up to you." She nodded, a frustrated smile flashing across her face for a millisecond. When they finally got to the parking garage, after what seemed like days, she parked the Jeep and slid out of the seat. She managed an awkward smile up at Mark, but his expression didn't change. "You're pissed off at me, aren't you?" she asked quietly. He sent her a look. "What? You want me to say yes and start feeling like shit once you go back on tour and leave me again?" "What are you talking about, again?" Mark's voice rose, and people in the parking lot started to stare, but neither of them noticed. "Just because I'm not physically always there doesn't mean I've ever left you. I haven't. Not once, and I've never considered it. But you know what? Now that I've completely embarassed myself by asking you to make a commitment to me like I've made to you, if I had a chance to go back and change it all, I would." Those last words cut �ibhleann deeper than anyone had ever wounded her before. The tears welled up, and he immediately regretted it. "�ibhleann, I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean it." He reached out to pull her into a hug, but she jerked back, her pretty face crumpling as the tears streamed down her face. "Get the fuck away from me," she snapped, her voice cold. She fumbled with her keys as she stepped backward toward the Jeep. "No, �ibhleann, please, listen to me. Wait, �ibhleann!" She tore out of the parking lot and he swore after her. With a heavy sigh, he stooped to pick up his bags. *** Scottie looked up from his video game when he heard a car in the driveway, a slight smile forming on his face. He paused the game and hopped up, throwing the door open. His smile fell, however, when he saw the deep scowl on Mark's face, and the hint of tear stains. "What happened?" he asked as Mark stepped over the threshold. "You don't want to know." Scottie's eyebrow rose, and he swung the door shut as he followed Mark into the living room. "Uh, I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know, Mark. Lay it on me." Mark laughed slightly. "I'm an ass, that's what happened." Scottie laughed. "Well, I coulda told you that. But what does your being an ass have to do with this?" he asked. Mark sighed and launched into the story. When he finished, Scottie's eyes were wide. "Wow." "Yeah. So now I have no clue what's gonna happen." "What do you mean?" "Well, unless I quit doing what I love and what I've worked my whole life for, I can't see her and I can't see my kid." "I don't think that's what she's saying, man," Scottie said. Mark just gave him a look. "You didn't hear the way she said it." "Well, I think she just meant that she won't marry you. I seriously doubt she wouldn't let you see your daughter just because you won't drop everything for her. She works in a lawyer's office. She knows she can't do that." Mark shrugged. "She'll come around eventually. I mean, she loves you. She's just really emotional right now, and scared too. I can understand her being worried about being married to someone she'll never see. We had that problem too." Mark nodded. "I hope you're right." ***Three Weeks Later*** Mark groaned and rolled over, reaching unsuccessfully for the light on his bedside table. He saw his keypad lighting up and reached for it instead, picking up his cell phone just as his voicemail kicked on. "Well, crap," he groaned, waiting until he heard it beep to call and check it. He listened intently, then jumped out of bed and threw the previous day's clothes on before jogging out the front door. He called Scott on his way out of the garage, his tires squealing as he threw it into drive. He swore as he heard Scott's answering machine pick up, and left a quick message. "Scott, it's me. I've got to run to Tennessee for a few days. Got my phone. Talk later." He hung up and tossed his phone into the passenger seat next to the bag he had hastily packed five minutes earlier. He swore at every red light, jumping it seconds before it turned green. Finallly, he got to the airport and was on the soonest flight to Nashville. The plane didn't seem to go fast enough for him, and his foot wiggled impatiently the entire way there. The man next to him looked over a few times, and Mark just smiled and nodded sheepishly. "My girlfriend's having our baby," he said quickly after the third time he had received an annoyed glance. The man just nodded, obviously still annoyed, and Mark shrugged it off. As soon as the plane landed, Mark stood, trying in vain to be calm. He couldn't seem to make the cabbie understand that he was in a rush to get to the hospital, finally giving up on making him go five miles an hour over the limit instead of under. He threw some extra cash over the back of the front seat before hopping out of the cab and running into the hospital. A man met him outside maternity. "You must be Mark," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Brad. I work with Ayvee." "Is she okay? What's happening?" Mark asked quickly. "They're both fine all things considered." Mark sighed. "You just barely missed it. They haven't even gotten her into a room yet. Shouldn't be much longer though." God, did this guy ever shut up? "What do you mean, 'all things considered?' What happened?" Mark asked, concern written on his face. stretching. |