“Do I say, ‘I forgive you, and I had actually forgiven you a while ago, I just never told you. I realize you’re dating and all, but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to give us another go and see what happens.’?” Buffy practiced. “Hey, that doesn’t sound bad actually. It’s just actually saying it. What if he’s completely happy the way things are right now? He seems to be enjoying himself . . . what if he tells me ‘Sorry, Buffy, but you’re really more fucked up than I thought and I want to be with the normal people.’ And then I could say ‘But, Spike, I’m really a lot better now! I’m happier than I think I’ve ever been, and every day is getting better than the last.’ Then he could say ‘Yeah, but all that crap you put me through, I actually can’t forgive you for that now.’ Then I could tell him he’s fucked up and needs help, and then he could tell me what a fuck up I’ve always been and yeah. . . What started out as a great conversation just went horribly wrong. And that conversation was just all in my head!” Parking the car, she banged her head on the steering wheel. “I am fucked up, listen to me!” Climbing out of the car, she took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m just gonna go in there and tell him. I can do this.”
Walking up the steps with purpose, she felt determined. She could do this.
“Babe, I’m gonna be over right after Buffy comes home. . . No, I’m gonna leave straight away. . . . I know you want me to meet your friends and I’m going to.”
Buffy stopped in the foyer upon hearing Spike talking on his cell. He was meeting some girl’s friends? She hadn’t been aware that he had been dating someone seriously enough for that. Apparently, she was wrong. Who was it? Jessica? She didn’t even know the names of the other girls. Maybe he wasn’t ‘shopping’ around a lot, but maybe rotating a few select stores. Her heart sank and tears stung her eyes. Well, what did she expect really? She’d waited too long.
Lorne would tell her to tell him anyway and put the ball in his court. Except. . .except the wind had been taken out of her sails and now she couldn’t. I made this bed, and now I have to lie in it.
Putting on a fake, bright smile, Buffy charged into the living room. “Hi!”
Spike looked up at her and smiled, holding up a finger, giving her the signal to wait a minute. “Gotta go, babe. Okay, see you in a few.” Clicking the phone shut, he looked up at Buffy sheepishly, “Hey, how are you?”
“Great, fantastic, never better.”
“That’s quite a list,” he chuckled.
“I start school tomorrow!” Tone it down, Buffy. He’ll see right through the overly cheery façade!
“Excited?”
“I am. Kinda nervous. You know, been a while. So, Lindsey go to bed all right?”
“Perfect. She was zonked from the field trip today.”
“Oh, good. She have fun?’
“She had a blast.”
“Okay, well, I should probably get ready for tomorrow, so . . . “ Don’t go. I know you have to, but I so desperately don’t want you too. See through my cheery brightness, see that I need you to stay so I can tell you . . .
“Right, then,” he jumped up. “I will see you tomorrow evening then.”
“Right, tomorrow evening.”
“Buffy, you all right?”
“Yep, fine, why?” Now she was afraid for him to catch on, and feeling guilty that he would. Who was she to stop him from pursuing happiness? Especially since it was she who all but shoved him out the door to do so?
“You just seem . . . off.”
She laughed, almost bitterly, and he looked at her, concerned. “Sorry, that just struck me as funny.”
“Do you want me to stay and keep you company?”
“Nah, I’m fine. You sounded like you had plans; you should go and do them.”
He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “Right. Okay, good night, Buffy.”
“Night!”
Sinking into the seat he’d vacated just after she heard the door shut, Buffy had herself a pity party.
Buffy left campus the next evening feeling on top of the world. She loved her art history class. Loved it. She had been a bundle of nerves that whole day, not being able to eat anything. Spike had stopped by work that day before she headed out for class, and on his way to pick up Lindsey, and brought her dinner – baked ziti from her favorite pizza shop down the street.
She nearly cried and threw herself at him when he came in and presented it to her. Instead she thanked him profusely, even though her stomach was so knotted, she knew she wouldn’t be able to eat a bite of it.
“At least eat the garlic bread,” he told her with a wink before he jetted off. Then she did let herself have a little cry. He knew her so well.
But now class was over and she’d made it through just fine. She took comfort in there being other students in the class her age and older. She’d even made a friend. Well, sort of. His name was Doyle, and he had been out of the graduate program for a while as well. He’d appeared as uneasy as she, and had sat down next to her with a nervous smile. They’d chatted up until the professor had arrived, and then after class when the professor had given out the assignment for the following week: They had to pair up with someone in class, visit the school gallery, and take notes on their impressions of the work and later, share them with their partner, and then the next week, with the class. Doyle and Buffy had immediately chosen each other. They’d exchanged numbers and Doyle said he’d be in touch in a couple days.
When she burst through the house to share with Spike her night, she found him fast asleep on the couch, flicker in his hand.
She smiled at the picture he presented and sat next to him, nudging him lightly. “Spike…” she cooed lightly. “Spi-ike.”
He grunted and adjusted a bit.
She nudged him harder, “Spike.”
His eyes flew open and fell on her. He immediately broke into a wide smile. “Hey, luv. How was class?”
She smiled, “Great. Rough night with Lindsey?” she asked.
“No, no…late night last night. Just catching up with me.”
She did not want to know about that. She violently did not want to know about his late night. Nearly leaping off the couch and away from him, she looked down at him. “Well, I release you now. I got it from here.”
He frowned, “Hey now. I want to hear about your night.”
“It was good. It’s going to be a good class.”
“That’s all? What about your professor? Did you talk to anyone? Do you think it’ll be hard? Did you eat any of the ziti or just save it for tomorrow’s lunch?”
“Well, I—“
“Momma?” Lindsey’s small voice came down to them.
Buffy went to the stairs and found Lindsey standing at the top, rubbing her eyes.
“Momma, I don’t feel good.”
Buffy rushed up the stairs and felt her daughter’s forehead. She felt hot. “What hurts, baby?”
“My belly,” Lindsey answered and promptly threw up on the carpet.
“I’ll get the cleaning stuff!” Spike called up while Buffy took a crying Lindsey into the bathroom. She stripped her daughter and cleaned her up with a cool cloth. Then she carried her into her bedroom and helped her change into new pajamas. She felt her head once more and was relieved to find she felt much cooler.
“Momma, will you stay with me?” Lindsey whimpered sleepily.
“Of course, baby. How do you feel now that you’ve thrown up?”
“Better.”
“Okay, honey, Momma is just going to change okay?”
Lindsey nodded, looking completely pitiful and Buffy rushed to change.
“How is she?” Spike asked, meeting her on her way back to their daughter’s bedroom.
“She says she feels better after she threw up. She wants me to stay with her.”
“She was fine when she went to bed,” Spike told her, following her to Lindsey’s room.
“You know how it is by now. These things just come on out of nowhere. Remember that summer flu she had in July?”
“Oh, I remember. Thought she was going to throw up her liver with the way she was going at it.”
Buffy giggled. “That was gross, thanks.”
Spike chuckled and leaned over Lindsey, pushing some hair from her forehead. “How are you, Princess?”
Lindsey looked up at him sleepily as Buffy crawled in next to her. “I’m okay, Daddy.”
“Do you want Daddy to stay?”
“No, just Momma.”
“Okay, baby. I’ll come by tomorrow and see my girl, okay?”
Lindsey nodded and turned into Buffy, wrapping her little arms around her.
Buffy smiled up at Spike. “You don’t mind locking up, do you?”
“Of course not. I’ll come by tomorrow night, if that’s all right? Then you can tell me about class.”
“Sure, night Spike.”
“Night, luv.”
Except, I’m not your love anymore, am I?