1: Can we have sex when you're done?
2: (closes laptop) I'm done.
(Places laptop on coffee table. He stands up slowly, straightens pant leg, and walks over to the couch where she is sitting.)
1: Oh. Well I didn't mean to --
(She is cut off. He scoops her up in one swift movement and proceeds towards the doorway, leading to their shared bedroom. Upon reaching the unmade queen-sized bed, he places her down gently. She looks up at him, still standing, expectantly.)
2: (He sits down and turns to her.) Have we really reached the point where you have to ask me if we can have sex?
1: I didn't want to interrupt. You've been so busy lately. (She looks down in her lap.)
2: (Dwells on her statement and then offers) What are we going to do?
1: (Appears defeated) I don't know. I want this to work. I'm trying to make this work.
2: (Sighs.) And I haven't been. I'm sorry.
1: Are you going to try?
2: I want to say that I will. But there are going to be many more 70-hour work weeks. Many more nights when I'll come home with a report and an excuse.
1: I can understand that. I guess we're just different (looks up, focusing intently on his face) because when I'm exhausted after a rough day at the office, I just want to spend time with you. (She surveys the damage.)
2: (Pained.) I promise that it's not that I don't want to, or that I don't care. I do. I'm not sure how to convince you of that.
1: I know that you care. I just wish it was as much as you care about your job.
2: Oh, come on. Don't say that to me.
1: It's not that it's wrong, or that I fault you for it. It's just how it is. I accept it.
2: How long do you think that will hold out?
1: Long enough, maybe.
2: This shouldn't be this hard.
1: But shouldn't it? We want to have...everything. How could we have expected everything to just magically come together?
2: It's what we were promised.
(To be fixed/continued/fixed)
2: (closes laptop) I'm done.
(Places laptop on coffee table. He stands up slowly, straightens pant leg, and walks over to the couch where she is sitting.)
1: Oh. Well I didn't mean to --
(She is cut off. He scoops her up in one swift movement and proceeds towards the doorway, leading to their shared bedroom. Upon reaching the unmade queen-sized bed, he places her down gently. She looks up at him, still standing, expectantly.)
2: (He sits down and turns to her.) Have we really reached the point where you have to ask me if we can have sex?
1: I didn't want to interrupt. You've been so busy lately. (She looks down in her lap.)
2: (Dwells on her statement and then offers) What are we going to do?
1: (Appears defeated) I don't know. I want this to work. I'm trying to make this work.
2: (Sighs.) And I haven't been. I'm sorry.
1: Are you going to try?
2: I want to say that I will. But there are going to be many more 70-hour work weeks. Many more nights when I'll come home with a report and an excuse.
1: I can understand that. I guess we're just different (looks up, focusing intently on his face) because when I'm exhausted after a rough day at the office, I just want to spend time with you. (She surveys the damage.)
2: (Pained.) I promise that it's not that I don't want to, or that I don't care. I do. I'm not sure how to convince you of that.
1: I know that you care. I just wish it was as much as you care about your job.
2: Oh, come on. Don't say that to me.
1: It's not that it's wrong, or that I fault you for it. It's just how it is. I accept it.
2: How long do you think that will hold out?
1: Long enough, maybe.
2: This shouldn't be this hard.
1: But shouldn't it? We want to have...everything. How could we have expected everything to just magically come together?
2: It's what we were promised.
(To be fixed/continued/fixed)
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