This is a songfic to Mindy McCready's "Maybe He'll Notice Her Now". I don't own the song at all. Please don't flame, it bugs me, constructive critisicm is however appreciated.


I feel just like that painting
Collecting dust on the wall

Sometimes I wonder if he ever loved me at all.

I've never heard him say that he did. The only time I can remember him saying that he loved me was the day my mother died, when I told him that I was in love with him. He said that he loved me more than anything. Since that day, he's never given me any reason to believe that really did. Sometimes I wonder how it got this far, and what were we going on. Did we think we could be live happily ever after, just because I loved him and I guessed that he loved me back? It's my fault in the first place, isn't it? I could have said no. I could have pushed him away when we made love for the first time.

I could have said "no" in place of "I do". I could have whispered "leave me" instead of "love me". But I didn't. I let my own love for him get in the way of how he really felt for me. Did he marry me just because I loved him? Because I needed somebody to love? Because I'd been hurt too many times, and I needed protecting?

The tears that stain my cheeks fall down, landing on my stomach. Usually the huge belly I have is enough to comfort me, to let me know that he does love me. But it doesn't, not this time. I can't help but wonder if this baby, the one I've been waiting on for so long, really made him happy. I remember the day in the hospital, scared to death that I was pregnant. When he wrapped his arms around me, kissed me, and asked me why I was so scared when this baby would be a real gift. We had everything we needed for her, all we wanted was to be together.

He was happy. I'll never forget the way his eyes lit up when the nurse said the baby would be here in nine months. And whenever he touched my stomach... God, it was like I was feeling heaven. But now, in the hot August heat, I can't find a reason why I married him. Why I melted in his arms so easily, why we were so happy together.

And every day you walk right by me
And don't know I'm there at all

I stand up, staring at myself in the mirror. The bump in my belly that used to bring a smile to our faces now looks like a hideous deformity. I look tired and haggard, my hair greasy and limp as it's tied back in it's ponytail. I don't see how on earth he could still look at me without wretching. I sigh, smiling sadly when I see our wedding photo. I'm smiling, my eyes half closed as Brain looks down at me and kisses my head. It's in black and white, just like my bittersweet memories. I pull the photo out of it's frame and tuck it in my pocket. The baby kicks, like she knows that something's wrong. I looked down at my belly and put my hand on it.

"Don't worry." I tell her gently. "Everything'll be OK."

I sniffed, wiping my eyes. I glance back one last time at our unmade bed, trying to remember the last time we made love.

I can't.

With a heartbroken sigh, I take a piece of paper that's just lying on the floor and leave him a note. I put it in the frame, thinking he just might look at it.

I can't think of one single reason
Why I should be hanging around
I hope that you'll miss me
I wish that you loved me

I don't really want to leave. I want to stay, I want to lie in his arms and just know that I'm safe. But what's the point of all of that if he doesn't love me? It's like I'm forcing him, forcing him to feel something that he doesn't want to feel. Or maybe he does, but he just... can't.

And I don't want to do it any more.

I take the keys to my car and leave the house, watching the two cats through the window. I cry like a baby, but I just can't stay.

Then she drove herself outta town


When he came home late that evening
He called her name down the hall

She wasn't there when I came home.

I thought she would be watching old House reruns, or maybe she'd be sleeping with her hand on her stomach, feeling for her baby's kicks and heartbeats. But she wasn't curled up in bed, or sitting on the couch. I couldn't hear her voice echoing through the halls, or feel her presence anywhere. The house felt... empty. I panicked, worried for her when I knew she was gone. I thought it was her ex again, but when I saw the note in the picture I knew that it was a different beast.

Me.

He saw the outline of the painting
That used to hang there on the wall
And in its place on the nail was a letter
He read it out loud to himself

I took the letter out and sank to my knees, 'cause I couldn't believe this was real. A million thoughts ran through my head. I tried to figure out why she left, why she had to go. I thought everything was going right for once. I thought she was happy, that she didn't want to leave.

Maybe she didn't. Maybe... maybe she had to leave. But why? Was she scared? Was she afraid of being a mother, afraid of being a wife?

That's when I realized. Carrie wasn't afraid of having a baby. She couldn't be. She'd been wanting this all of her life, and loved me for giving it to her. She always made that so clear, with every whispered word that she said so often.

Then the loneliness began to take over

She was afraid of me.

And for once he knew just how she felt.


TBC...