After I got Freetime, I loaded up my game, went to buy mode...and wanted to die. Everything was gone. All my custom content was nowhere to be seen. When I went to some of the sites to redownload, it said that the files were already in my downloads folder and, lo and behold, they were. Certain things, like clothes and mods and the such, are still there and work, but from buy and build mode I can't find any of my custom downloads. Would installing the Freetime patch help with this? I meant to but kept forgetting.

There will be pictures up soon, promise. I had this story lingering around for a while but never had the time to upload it. This is for my friend's cousin and his husband, who will be adopting soon. Good luck!
 
Note: The narrator is male, to reduce any kind of confusion. Sorry I don't mention his name just yet. I haven't thought of a fitting one. If anyone has any suggestions, that would be lovely.



“Yes…yes, thank you.” I bit my lip, the girl’s voice now nothing more than an unintelligible hum in the background. She said the same thing, over and over and over. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I nodded, sighing deep into the phone. Somehow I wanted her to feel it.

“Well, thank you for calling.” I kept my hand on the receiver, not sure what I wanted to happen. I did know, however, that I didn’t want to turn and see that face. His face. His sad, disappointed face. I rubbed the back of my neck and closed my eyes tight. It was better to get it over with. He knew what was coming.

I walked to him where he sat on the couch, looking up expectantly. My heart sank, seeing his gorgeous brown eyes. How could I..? Sitting in front of him on my knees, my lips quivered. “She’s keeping the baby.” I spat it out quickly and averted my eyes. I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t watch him catch the words and understand, slowly, that, once again, we’d been denied.

Though I didn’t look, I could feel it. He moved slowly, his legs moving from the floor up to the couch, his hands moved to his face. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, repeating the girl. The words tasted sour and dirty. He shook his head and bit his lip hard.

“Why?” he asked, wiping at his eyes. I shrugged.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, taking my place beside him. “She didn’t say.” He nodded, his hands dropping back to his lap. With a deep sigh, he stood and brushed a hand against mine. I was surprised. That was the least he’d ever said when we’d been turned down. Of course, I suppose such things become easier when they’re almost an average thing of your day-to-day life. What did I expect him to say? It wasn’t as if we could demand the child.

I didn’t look for him. I knew where he was, but I left him to his grieving. This one had nearly been set in stone, or so we’d thought. Three months. That’s what we’d had left. Three months, and we would have had a little girl. We’d picked out names, we had clothes and he, Alex, my love, my life, had spent days setting up the nursery. He’d picked out the rocking chair, he had a teddy bear for her. It was all there. But she wasn’t.

It was hours before I saw him. He sat in the rocking chair in the nursery. He looked out the window, only looking up when I walked in. “Hey,” he said. His cheeks were red, his eyes glassy. I wondered how long he’d been in there.

“We were so close,” he said, shaking his head.

“I know.” I walked to the middle of the room. He wanted to put all kinds of pictures on the walls. Of us and her, baby pictures, her first little scribbles. No, I thought. Those would go on the fridge, her little pieces of artwork. Our little Picasso. He stood, from the chair only to wrap his arms around me and squeeze. I held him tight and took a look around the room.

I wondered if there had ever been a sadder sight than an empty nursery.