Waves - Book #2 [completed]

42 ~ Anacampserote

Anacampserote
noun
Something that can bring back a lost love

I fell asleep with Riley snuggled up against me, her head on my shoulder, and her dog's butt pressed against my shin. Her fingers drew tiny patterns on my left pec, and, despite the lingering sadness, I never felt more content with everything in my life just because she was there. She calms me, levels me. Even though I worry about a lot of things when it comes to her and our relationship, when she's here she makes my anxiety lessen. And I hope I could give her some emotional support going through that day, too.

She cried again after we finished eating and shed a few tears just before we went to bed. The time in between was better for her, and she even hiccuped a tiny laugh or two too when she sat behind me, braiding my hair and telling me about how Samir wasn't allowed near the washing machine because he used to mess everything up and shrink all their clothes.

I love seeing her smile. I love seeing her heal when she talks about her past. I love how her eyes spark when she remembers Samir. It's like every time she says his name it falls easier from her lips. And witnessing that patches up the gashes in my own heart that seeing her hurt caused.

I know she's worried about being overbearing or too stuck in the past, and yes it tweaks, but I try to not let it get to me. I can bear it. Even though sharing's not in my nature – courtesy of being the youngest of three kids – I'm going to give my best to accept whatever piece of her heart she can give me.

She's just now starting to really process his death and the aftermath, I realize. She got stuck somewhere during the past years and only now she's moving forward.

I talked to my brother a few times and asked him what helped him deal with the loss of his childhood friend. He basically said what I already knew, that reassurance, emotional support and understanding are key. But his confirmation keeps me going. I'm on the right track. I got this.

Now, after just waking up, I stretch my arms over my head and try to feel around for Riley. But the bed is cold, and she isn't there. Baby isn't either. There's no noise in the first place. No running of water or scraping or shuffling in the kitchen. Nothing that would indicate Riley still being here.

Rolling to my back, I feel the worry creep up inside me. I don't want to feel this way. I hate fearing she might run away from me. So I swallow that thought and get up and rub my palms over my face.

On my way to the bathroom, I register Riley's missing shoes and that she'd left the t-shirt she was wearing yesterday on her side of the bed. Inhaling a sharp breath, I go to brush my teeth and wash my face before shrugging into the same clothes from yesterday and revel in the giddy rush that I got from seeing that she kept my toothbrush.

The flowers I bought are neatly put in the vase Riley dug out from the far depth of her cupboards. She had to dust it off too. She must not have gotten flowers in a long time, and even if I felt weird buying them because for me flowers don't have a purpose other than looking nice, I was glad I did it after seeing Riley's eyes glimmer.