Free The Dance by Alison G. Bailey

sensitive topic he’d break from his usual stoic self and emotions would pour out. We rode the rest of the way home in silence.
    As we pulled into the driveway butterflies took flight in my stomach. After nine years together the nerves surprised me. Entering the house, it occurred to me that other than a few benign kisses and touches we hadn’t been intimate since the miscarriage. At first we couldn’t be and then somehow we just weren’t.
    Standing in the dark entryway, Will and I stared at each other like strangers. I stepped closer toward him, placing my palms flat on his stomach. I ran them over his hard chest while holding his gaze. This was the longest we’d looked at each other in months. Timidly he put his hands on my hips. Even though his expression remained neutral I could feel his nerves radiate off his body. I didn’t want him to feel pressured or nervous, but the emotion did give me a sense of comfort. As if we were on the same page.
    “I won’t break.” I assured him.
    “I don’t know why I’m nervous,” he admitted.
    “I’m nervous too.” I smiled shyly up at him.
    He took in a shaky breath and brought his fingertips up to brush away the hair from my face. I took his right hand and placed it flat against my cheek. The feel of his skin on mine caused my eyes to tear up. It had been such a long time since I felt his touch. He brought his left hand up and cupped the other side of my face. His dark eyes stormed with deep emotion.
    His gaze dropped to my lips. Just like flipping on a light switch, desire filled the air around us. I gripped his biceps and tugged him to me. Our lips touched and the familiar fire exploded. It didn’t take long for the kiss to go from want to need. Tongues swirled wildly as we ripped off clothes. Will pushed me against the wall. Soon we were both blindly groping at underwear.
    I pushed him back slightly. “We should go upstairs.”
    “Why?” He panted.
    “Because I don’t want our baby to be conceived against a wall.”
    “True.”
    Suddenly, he dipped down and slung me over his shoulder. My squeals echoed throughout the house the entire trip up to our bedroom.
    Will and I may not have made a baby that night but we definitely made our way back to each other.
    One week turned into two weeks, turned into three weeks, turned into a month, then two months and still no baby. Not even a glimmer. And it wasn’t for lack of trying. We didn’t have this much sex when it was new and shiny.
    Dr. Jamison couldn’t find any medical reason why we hadn’t gotten pregnant yet. Having a baby had always been an important aspect of marriage to me but it wasn’t necessarily at the top of my list, at least not until it became out of reach. I quickly got obsessed with all things baby.
    My doctor suggested keeping an ovulation chart, so I bought one of those trackers from the drugstore. I was very organized with my charting. I hung large wall calendars in the three rooms I spent the most time in—the bedroom, the bathroom, and the kitchen. I marked the kitchen calendar using a code I made up just in case we had friends and family over. No need for them to know each time I was jumping my husband.
    At first tracking my cycle added a new facet to our sex life. Will looked like a deer caught in the headlights when I explained to him how the female cycle worked. I decided to leave out a lot of the technical details. I didn’t want him to be in his head too much, concentrating on charts, tracking, and ovulation schedule. Plus, he seemed to enjoy the surprise attacks.
    “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Peggy said cheerfully.
    Peggy had been with Forsyth Construction since the very beginning as executive assistant. I knew she was around the same age as Will’s parents but she looked younger than them. Her features were soft, her figure was slender, and she dressed stylishly even when I saw her in more casual settings.
    “Hey, Peggy. Are you behaving yourself?”
    “Well, what