Arthur sighed as he prepared himself for another evening of hiding and comforting his seven month pregnant wife, ____. He loved her to death, but during the last few months, her mood swings have become much worse, often ranging from anger to remorse to happiness and repeat. There was the occasional sadness bit, but not as often. Arthur set his briefcase on the kitchen counter as he heard his wife call to him. He winced as he heard his name called.
“Yes, love?” He turned to see that ____ was indeed in a happy mood.
“I made your favorite for dinner as an apology for making you sleep on the couch last night, I got a little too angry.” Knowing better than to agree and prove that ____ was mean last night, Arthur just nodded his head and thanked his wife. “Dinner’s on the table, Artie!” She simpered and went on her merry way to the dining room. Arthur smiled, the evening seemed to be going in his favor so far. _____ even called him by his nickname, which he hated, so that was a plus. The Brit removed his blazer jacket and went to join his sunny wife in the dining room. He looked at the table to see his plate of fish and chips with a side of mixed vegetables.
“You’ve outdone yourself tonight, poppet. Everything looks great!” The bushy-eyebrowed man smiled as his wife thanked him.
“I’m glad you like it, I’m really sorry for being so evil to you yesterday.” Once again, Arthur knew better and just said it was all right. He looked at his wife and saw a plate covered with sweets. Ice cream, cupcakes, cheesecake slices, you name it, it was there. His green orbs popped out of his head as he paled.
“Um, ____, honey?”
“Yes, Artie?” A bright smile still adorned her features.
“Maybe eat some healthier food, that isn’t necessarily good for you, or the baby for that matter.” Bad move, he realized right after he spoke. He watched _____’s face contort with rage before he crawled and hid under the cherry wood dining room table.
“You asshole! You don’t care about me or this baby!” Arthur covered any vulnerable areas as his wife began to throw napkins at him.
“Love, all I said was that you need cut down on the sweets and eat healthier foods for you and the baby, see I do care.” Arthur argued his case to no avail.
“It’s a craving, meaning the baby needs dessert.” ______’s face was red with rage and she looked for something else to throw at her opponent. Arthur ran out of the dining room, into the kitchen, and hid behind the kitchen counter when he saw ____ pick up a glass vase.
“Love, be reasonable, I was only trying to help! Don’t kill me for it!” ______ placed the vase back on the table gently and approached her husband with tears in her eyes. Phase two, great. Arthur mentally rolled his eyes as he saw his wife gradually break down. He stood and wrapped his arms around her large middle and held her tightly. The woman burst into tears before clinging to the taller form of her husband.
“I’m a bad wife, Arthur! I’ll probably be a bad mother, too! I’m sitting here getting angry at you all because you tried to keep me healthy.” She sobbed into his dress shirt as he smooth back the tangled (h/c) tresses on her head.
“____, you’re an excellent wife and I have no doubt that you’ll be a superb mother.” He held her tightly as she sobbed to her heart’s content.
“Then, what’s wrong with me!?” He paled. There was no way he could answer that question and not get hurt in the process. If he told ______ what really was wrong, he’d be as good as dead. If he didn’t say anything, she’d just badger him until he yelled, which would make her cry and go into depression for making him upset. If he simply lied and said nothing was wrong, she’d know he was lying and would threaten him with couch duty, which he would like to not serve tonight.
“Um, well, love,” Arthur began. He decided to go with option one, he’d have to tell her eventually. “You are extremely moody—but that’s not bad! It just makes it a little difficult to try to deal with—“ The poor Englishman was cut off with a frying pan to the head. Where _____ got the frying pan, the world may never know. “Hey! Do you just carry those around!?” The Brit was given another smack as a response.
“You try carrying a baby for nine months and see if you want to be moody! I’m already experiencing chronic back pain and severe weight gain! Do I really need to take this from you too?! No! You’re supposed to be my pillar of strength! Stop whining, you’re the one who did this to me!” The woman was furious, her (e/c) eyes were narrowed up towards the blonde and she seemed to be emitting steam from rage out of her ears. “I sentence you to couch duty until the baby’s born! Now, go take your rightfully deserved punishment!” She set the frying pan on the counter before striding out of the kitchen to their (once) shared bedroom.
“Shit, everything I say goes against me.” The Brit went into the dining room to clean up the remains of dinner when he heard a sob and the sounds of fast, heavy footsteps. “What now?” As soon as he turned his head, he was met with a seven month pregnant woman slamming into him.
“I’m sorry, honey! I didn’t mean it! You’re perfect and couldn’t be any better!” She held on tightly as the shocked Brit winced mentally again. Not again, _____. He patted her head gently.
“It’s okay, love. I forgive you, you’re just having a baby.” She continued on with her mood swing.
“You never have to report to couch duty again, so long as you put up with my mood swings for two more months.” Arthur smiled and kissed his wife softly.
“I’ve put up with you for seven months, I’m sure I can do it for two more.” Bad move, really bad move. Arthur quickly rushed so he wasn’t in frying pan smacking range.
“’Put up with me’!? What kind of crap is that!? You’re my husband, you should love me unconditionally, regardless if I’m moody or not! I can’t believe you, Arthur. Forget it, you’re on couch duty until the next millennium!” The Brit sighed and gathered up some blankets from the closet and prepared himself a spot on the couch. _____ left him and he hadn’t seen neither hide nor hair of her for a while until it was about ten o’clock. That’s when heard rushed footsteps and more sobs.
“Arthur! It’s scary all alone, it’s dark and no one’s there to fight off the burglars!” ____ ran to him and snuggled under the blankets with him.
“We don’t have burglars, _____. Even if—“
“Come to bed before I have another mood swing!” Her (e/c) eyes challenged his own green ones. He looked into the (e/c) pools and saw a reflection of what he would assume to be his own personal Heaven and Hell on Earth. He nodded vigorously and made a beeline to the stairs. Once they had settled into bed, ____ turned to face her husband with a sad frown on her face. “Hey, Artie?”
“Yeah?” was the sleepy reply.
“I’m not too much to handle right.” He shook his head before he got in trouble again.
“You’re never too much for me, love, and that’s all that matters.”