Chapter 25 – The First Fight
The week after dinner with Adrian's mother was calm.
Sixteen days until the trial.
We kept our rhythm: coffee in the morning, breakfast together, kiss at 7 a.m., dinner at 8 p.m., couch time, "I love you," bed.
Layla still called me "Mama Lila" every Wednesday, and she'd added a new line to her drawing:
"This is Mama."
"This is Baba."
"This is Lila."
"This is Baby."
She'd started drawing a fourth stick figure, smaller than the rest.
I didn't ask her about it.
I was still early in my pregnancy — only 7 weeks — and Adrian didn't know yet.
I'd found out three days ago.
I'd gone to the pharmacy, bought a test, taken it in the bathroom, and stared at the two pink lines until my hands shook.
I wanted to tell Adrian, but I wanted to wait until after the trial.
I didn't want him carrying two worries at once.
So I kept the secret, and I kept my morning nausea hidden by saying I'd had bad coffee.
On Thursday night, the calm cracked.
We were on the couch after dinner.
Adrian was scrolling through emails on his phone.
I was folding laundry.
"Lila," he said without looking up.
"Yes?"
"Can you move the photo of Nadia back to the living room shelf?"
I stopped folding.
"What?"
"The photo of Nadia. Can you move it back to the living room shelf?"
I felt my chest tighten.
"Why?"
"Because it's her home too. She lived here. She should be on the shelf."
Adrian still looked at his phone.
I set the folded shirt down.
"Adrian, we agreed to keep her photo in your office."
"I know what we agreed. I'm changing my mind."
"Why?"
"Because I miss her."
My throat closed.
"Adrian, you see her photo every day in your office."
"That's not the same."
"Then what is it?"
He finally looked at me.
"I want her in the living room."
I felt hurt bloom in my chest.
"Adrian, this is *our* home now."
"It's *her* home too."
I stood up.
"Adrian, we put her photo in your office so we could have our own space."
"I know what we did."
"So why are you changing it?"
"Because I want to."
I crossed my arms.
"Adrian, I'm not comfortable with that."
He stood up too.
"Why not? Are you jealous of a dead woman?"
The words hit me like a slap.
"Jealous?" I said, my voice sharp. "No, I'm not jealous. I'm trying to build a life with you."
"This *is* our life."
"Not if her photo is on the living room shelf."
Adrian's face hardened.
"So what? You want to erase her?"
"No! I want us to have our own space."
"This is her space too."
I felt tears prick my eyes.
"Adrian, I love you. I'm not trying to erase Nadia."
"Then move the photo back."
"No."
He stared at me.
"You're being selfish."
I flinched.
"Selfish? After everything I've done for you and Layla?"
"You're being selfish," he repeated.
I felt anger rise.
"You know what? Fine. Move the photo yourself."
I walked to our bedroom and shut the door.
I sat on the bed, my heart pounding.
A few minutes later, Adrian opened the door.
"Lila," he said.
I didn't answer.
"Lila, I'm sorry."
I still didn't answer.
He came in and sat on the edge of the bed.
"I'm sorry I said you're being selfish."
I looked at him.
"Then why did you say it?"
"Because I'm scared."
"Scared of what?"
"Scared that if I don't keep her photo in the living room, I'll forget her."
"You won't forget her."
"How do you know?"
"Because you love her. You'll never forget her."
He was quiet.
"I just need to see her photo in the living room."
"Adrian, I need our home to feel like *ours*."
He was quiet again.
"Can we compromise?" I asked.
"What kind of compromise?"
"Keep her photo in your office. And we can put the photo of the three of us — you, me, and Layla — on the living room shelf."
He was silent.
"That way her photo is in the home, and our photo is in the home too."
He looked at me.
"Would that be okay?"
"Yes."
He nodded.
"Okay. We'll do that."
I exhaled.
"Thank you."
He reached for my hand.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you."
"It's okay. I'm sorry I got angry."
He pulled me into a hug.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
We stayed in the hug for a long time.
Then he kissed my forehead.
"Let's go move the photos."
We went to the living room.
I took the photo of the three of us from the shelf in my room and placed it on the living room shelf.
Adrian took the photo of Nadia from the living room and carried it to his office.
He placed it on the top shelf of the closet, next to the other photos of her.
He came back to the living room and looked at the photo of the three of us.
"It looks good," he said.
"Yes."
He put his arm around me.
"Thank you for the compromise."
"You're welcome."
He kissed my forehead.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
We sat on the couch.
"Adrian," I said.
"Yes?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Yes."
"Do you think I'm replacing Nadia?"
He looked at me, surprised.
"No. Why would you ask that?"
"Because you wanted her photo in the living room."
"I want her photo in the living room because I love her and I miss her. That doesn't mean you're replacing her."
"Then what am I?"
"You're my wife. You're Layla's mama. You're my present and my future."
"Nadia is your past."
"Yes."
I nodded.
"Thank you for saying that."
"You're welcome."
He kissed me.
We sat on the couch until 10 p.m.
He went to his office.
I went to my room.
That night I opened the notebook.
*Day 115 – We had our first fight.*
Under it:
*She's Lila. We compromised.*
Friday morning we woke up together.
We had coffee and breakfast together.
At 7 a.m. Adrian left for work.
At 8 p.m. he came home.
He looked calm.
"How was your day?" I asked.
"Good."
"How was work?"
"Good."
I served dinner.
We ate.
After dinner, we sat on the couch.
"Lila," he said.
"Yes?"
"Thank you for last night."
"You're welcome."
"I'm glad we talked instead of staying angry."
"Me too."
He kissed my forehead.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
We sat on the couch until 10 p.m.
He went to his office.
I went to my room.
That night I opened the notebook.
*Day 116 – We talked and fixed it.*
Under it:
*She's Lila. She's my wife.*
Saturday morning we woke up together.
We had coffee and breakfast together.
At 7 a.m. Adrian left for work.
At 4 p.m. Mrs. Cole texted: *Layla is asking for you.*
I replied: *I'll see her tomorrow.*
*Mrs. Cole: She added a fourth person to her drawing.*
I smiled.
I knew who the fourth person was.
At 8 p.m. Adrian came home.
He hugged me.
"How was your day?" I asked.
"Good."
"How was work?"
"Good."
I served dinner.
We ate.
After dinner, we sat on the couch.
"Lila," he said.
"Yes?"
"Thank you for being my wife."
"You're welcome."
He kissed my forehead.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
We sat on the couch until 10 p.m.
He went to his office.
I went to my room.
That night I opened the notebook.
*Day 117 – Fourteen days until the trial.*
Under it:
*She's Lila. She's my wife.*
I closed the notebook.
The fight had scared me.
It was the first time we'd been angry at each other.
But it was also the first time we'd talked through it and fixed it.
We weren't perfect.
We were real.
And that felt better than perfect.
I touched my stomach gently.
*Soon, I'll tell him about you.*
I went to bed.
Adrian was already in bed.
I got in next to him.
He put his arm around me.
"Good night, wife."
"Good night, husband."
He kissed my forehead.
I fell asleep.