Lady Baby

12

It has been three weeks and so far they had had only two quarrels. True to his words, Max helped around the house. At first Sharon had hovered around as he worked, watching to see if he made any mistakes but he didn't. It was one of her hovering sessions that led to their first quarrel. They had quickly made up though.

"It's been a week and we haven't had a single argument." Sharon pushed bits of her coleslaw around her plate with a fork.

"Relax," Annie said, rolling lovely big eyes. "Appreciate the fact that he is at least trying. So—" She leaned forward, a smug grin brightening her face "—have you stopped taking those?"

"Huh?" Sharon lifted a brow, pretending not to understand what her friend was saying.

"Come on," Annie whined. "You know what I mean."

Sharon chuckled and took a sip from her tall glass of orange juice. "My lips are zipped."

"Oh my God." Annie laughed with this... this ridiculous ecstatic look on her face. "You could even be pregnant right now. Oh my God!" She bounced on her seat, dimples flashing as she beamed at her.

"Calm down." Sharon looked around the restaurant. A few people had turned their way after Annie's squealing session. The pain of another headache sliced through the back of her head and spread. Her hand flew to the spot.

"What is it?" Annie asked, worry wiping off her happy expression.

Sharon shook her head then grimaced. "Its..." She massaged the back of her neck, frowning as the pain stabbed away. "it's these headaches. For several weeks now."

"You should go see a doctor."

"I keep forgetting to mention it cause when it's gone its gone." Sharon reached for her glass and took another sip. Her worry was beginning to get stronger.

After her lunch break, she went back to the office much more subdued. Annie called to check on her but she assured her friend it was nothing. She called Dr Freddie after speaking with Annie and booked an appointment for the 6th of March—four days' time.

The headache persisted throughout her day and her drive home. Sharon recognised a few cars at the parking lot. Max's friends. She fought a groan as she made her way to the lift, barely responding to Gary's greeting; he was the door man. She wanted some peace and quiet but she knew what Max's friends' presence in the house meant. They hollered when they talked, laughed liked they were at the pub, left a hurricane of mess behind, and one of them—Fred was his name—had a nasty case of body odour. She wondered how the rest of his friends hadn't told him yet. Male friendships could be quite shallow sometimes.

When the lift reached their floor and she stepped out, she could hear the commentator of a football match going on about the game even before she opened the door. They had not gone to Max's den, instead they gathered like a pack of wolves at the living area, shouting as they watched the football game at a stupidly high volume. She contemplated going over and asking they keep it down but resisted the urge. The headache had reached a level where bath and sleep looked like the only solution.

She walked to their bedroom. A quick shower after, she shrugged on the closest pyjama set her hands touched, it was a mismatched pair but who cares, guzzled down two tablet of painkillers and dragged her feet to bed.

There was a sudden collective shout of 'goal' that was so thunderous, Sharon was certain it shook the foundation of the building. How was she to get a good rest if they kept making so much noise? She sat up and glanced around the bedroom, her gaze fell on her pc. The painkillers had helped alleviate her suffering a bit, she was certain she was in the right frame of mind to put in her daily log. Writing daily about what floated around her mind had been therapeutic. There were times she was certain she would have divorced Max if not for the outlet the log offered.