Daisy's pov
Robert came two days later, he found me forlorn and shattered on the hospital bed. Our eyes met and there were tears in his, he rushed over to me and embraced me tightly stroking my hair.
"Daisy…" that was all he could manage to say before his voice cracked.
Mine cracked too as the tears welled up in my eyes, "I'm sorry, our baby–"
"It's okay, don't talk about it…"
"Oh Robert–!"
The doctor had told me I lost the baby due to too much mental strain, I told Robert about this and he calmly listened not interrupting me once after I finally finished through an interval of sobs he said; "Daisy, I hope that from now on you can learn to truly trust me, it's because you didn't trust me that–"
He didn't feel like speaking but I knew what he was implying, I wasn't a fool. Once again, I rationalized these actions. He wasn't saying this to be cruel, he just didn't want me to lose another baby to stress.
My first pregnancy was in the early stages of my second trimester before I lost it. After a few more months, my heart was open again to try for a child. During this time Robert was more attentive and caring but I could still feel this distance that had grown between us, like he was keeping me at arms length.
Every month my period came, I would break down in tears. Why…? Why?! I couldn't understand why the moon goddess was punishing me like this. I never wanted much in life, just a happy,healthy family. When the third month of trying came and my period afterwards I broke down in tears in the bathroom.
Robert and I never went back to sharing the same room, he said it was good for our privacy for both of us to have our own separate spaces like that, but whenever we tried for a baby I would sleep in the bedroom with him.
So I had cried out my heart in the bathroom before Robert came to check up on me, he found me in the empty tub and crouched down asking what the problem was.
I didn't say anything, rather I just stretched out my hand and handed him the pregnancy kit.
He looked at it and his eyes saddened.
"Let's keep trying…i know–"
"I want to see a doctor," I said in a tone that left no room for arguments. "We need to see a pack doctor to know if something is wrong,"
He suddenly grew defensive at that suggestion, "What do you mean by that?" He didn't wait for me to answer and just waved his hand.
"Don't worry, we'll do whatever you want."
He stayed with me for a little bit longer, silent. Not the comforting type, the uncomfortable type that made me feel like I was going to scream at any moment. My toes rubbed at the base of the tub anxiously as I stole quick glances at him hoping he would say something–anything really to distract me from the crushing realization that I still wasn't pregnant.
There was none.
Instead he stretched after a while standing up and saying something about being sleepy, then he urged me to go to bed.
As we both left the bathroom I held on to his sleeve and in a quiet voice asked if I could sleep with him tonight.
"If you want to,"
My heart clenched, couldn't he see the hurt written all over my face? Wasn't he supposed to be the one to suggest that we sleep in the same bed?
I tried not to overthink it, it was overthinking that led to my miscarriage after all.
That night I slept in the main bedroom with him, but honestly there was hardly any difference from when I was sleeping in the guest bedroom.
He was focused on his phone, giggling and smiling like a fourteen year old. He hardly looked at me, like I wasn't even there. As though my presence was merely a figment of imagination that was not to be regarded seriously.
I turned around and cried quietly onto my pillow, then when I was about to fall asleep he suddenly wrapped his hands around me and my tears wanted to dry away. That was when his hands started strolling downwards and then slipped under my panties.
Disgust rippled through my body and I shoved him away yelling, "Stop!"
His expressions came to surprise then shifted to annoyance.
"What the heck? Why are you yelling as if I'm forcing myself on you?"
I sniffled.
"You've been ignoring me all this time, and now you want to have sex?"
His eyebrows furrowed together, "and what's the problem with that? I'm your husband and mate, it's my right!" He said firmly, "you always say that I'm never giving you enough attention, well now I'm giving you attention and you're screaming your head off like a banshee!"
His words hit me like a slap to the face, I got off the bed and stomped out not responding.
I didn't lock the door when I went to the guest bedroom, because deep down inside of me I was hoping that he would run after me and explain that he was sorry and confused. Moments like this I revisited the first days of our union, especially before we got married when we were just mates.
Robert had been so dotting, his parents had been wonderful too. The Robert of back then would have not yelled at me for denying him sex, he would have thoughtfully pulled me into his arms and playfully kissed my cheek stroking my hair till I fell asleep.
Moments like this I asked myself; what happened to my husband?
The next morning Robert joined me for breakfast saying nothing about our argument last night, since he was going to sweep it under the carpet I decided to do the same too.
"I've asked my PA to schedule an appointment for us in the hospital today, we need to know why I'm not getting pregnant,"
He chewed his pancakes for what felt like forever before dropping his fork and saying nonchalantly, "Okay,"
There it was again –no emotion. Like it meant nothing to him.