I like the dark, always have.

I guess that's why I'm sittin' here in my kitchen at two o'clock in the mornin' in the dark smokin' and drinkin'.

I wonder how long it's gonna take him to realize I ain't in bed with him. He probably won't notice at all. He can sleep through a fuckin' earthquake. Well, he could if we had any in the South.

It figures that on the first night we've had together in months, the only thing that happened in the bedroom was him fallin' asleep. I keep tellin' myself that they'll be other times but I know that's a lie. Once his kid's born, I'll be lucky if I get see him for five minutes at the pay per views.

I feel like a deer in headlights when the lights are abruptly flipped on. I blink and try to let my eyes adjust to the sudden brightness.

"Whatcha doin' down here?" he grunts.

"Ain't it obvious?" I smirk.

"Kiss my ass."

"That's what I was tryin' to do when ya fell asleep."

He flips me off and leans against the counter. "Why weren't ya in bed with me?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"Why not?"

"Dunno. Guess I got a lot of shit on my mind."

"Like?" he asks.

"You, me, Sara, the baby..." my voice trails off.

"Jeff," he sighs heavily.

"What, Mark?" I ask, annoyed.

"You know how I feel about ya," he whispers.

"Do I? Really?"

"Don't be a fuckin' smartass."

"Nobody's bein' nothin', Mark."

"Look, I'm sorry I fell asleep."

I laugh bitterly and light another cigarette. "This ain't got a damn thing to do with you fallin' asleep. You wanna know what this is about? This is about you and your goddamn empty promises!"

He looks at me half-confused and very annoyed. "What the fuck are ya talking bout, boy?" he hisses.

"I'm talkin' bout the fact that nine months ago, we were happy. You promised you were gonna leave her and that we were gonna build a life together."

"Things got complicated."

"They always do," I say quietly. "You always have some excuse, Mark."

"You think life is simple, dont'cha?"

"I think a real man keeps his promises."

"It ain't that easy."

I get up and head to the fridge for another beer. "Which part ain't easy? Not usin' a rubber so she wouldn't get knocked up or leaving her now that she is?"

"No."

"No what?"

"You don't get it."

"Why don't ya try and make me understand?" I ask.

"I can't," he replies.

"Of course not," I smirk. "You never can."

"Damn it, Jeff!"

"What, Mark?! I'm still waitin' for a fuckin' explanation!"

"The baby's not mine!" he exclaims then turns pale a second later once he realizes what he's said.

I feel like I just got hit with a really hard clothesline. I almost lose my balance but he holds me up. My emotions are runnin' wild...I'm shocked, angry, excited, relieved. I suddenly have to fight the urge to wrap my arms around him and get lost in the kind of warmth only he can provide. I pull away and glare at him with hazy eyes. "Whatcha mean the kid ain't yours?"

"The baby's not mine," he repeats quietly. "I can't have kids...I'm sterile."

I swear I've walked into the fuckin' Twilight Zone. "Bullshit. You have kids, Mark."

"They're adopted."

I stand there waiting for the creepy music to start.

"Ain't ya gonna say somethin'?" he asks.

"What the fuck ya want me to say?"

"I dunno...somethin', anythin'."

"Okay. How bout I think you're a selfish, lyin', no good bastard?"

"Goddammit!" he yells and slams his fist on the counter.

"Hey, ya wanted me to say somethin'."

"I thought you'd be more understandin'," he grunts.

"Why am I the one that always has to be understandin', Mark?" I ask. "Why is everythin' always 'bout you?"

"That ain't true."

"Really? You're the one that gets to play the lovin' husband and have a fucktoy on the side."

"Is that what you think?" he asks. "That you're my fucktoy?"

"Am I anythin' more?"

"You know, I'm not even gonna answer that," he says. "You're drunk. We'll talk more in the mornin'."

"Whatever," I reply as I sit down and light yet another cigarette.

"I'm goin' back to bed."

"Turn the lights off."

He does what I ask and I'm left alone in the dark. Again.

*~*End*~*