Cecil didn't come home.
Franny worried herself so, through the night. She'd called. She'd text. She couldn't track him down. Where had he gone?
Weren't they going to try for a child of their own? Not that she was entirely ready to be pregnant again. But at least she needed to know they'd be close. They'd at least have time to think on it more. To spend time with each other.
Had she been crazy about his new tattoos? Well, not exactly crazy in love with them. Just alarmed. It would take some getting used to. And it bothered her even more that she needed to be around him to be more familiar with what was happening. There was the anxiety that he might be having more done to this freak show of his. What could he possibly be doing?
It wasn't like him to just be off like this. He was generally home for supper, and always around to help her with the kids.
Just as she picked up her cell to call the police about him, he showed up.
"Where you been?" She was ready to cry. "I was all set to call the coppers about you?"
But he was solemn as ever. Hardly cracked a smile. He went to pour himself a cup of coffee. She just watched. It was as if he were in another world.
"What did I do this time?" She waited as if she were the one in trouble. Not him.
"I hear how you been nursing that Rhys back from hell." He snidely remarked as if she'd hit a nerve.
"What? Its my job, Cecil!" She scowled. "He just came out of coma."
"I'm sure it'll be the start of something, now won't it?" He barely said.
"No." She couldn't believe the question had came from him. "How dare you! Even think to bring up something so-so over with. I thought you trusted me?"
"Just shut it! I know I married a slapper." He winced. "Once a slapper! Always a slapper!"
Franny gritted a scowl. What had happened to Cecil?
Day 18 -nanowrimo
3 days ago