Trembling Voices

Chapter 5

Three knocks and I'm awake. Well, at least that's the number of knocks I remember hearing in my sleepy daze.

I sit up in my bed, completely disoriented and confused.

For a moment, I believe that the knocks were in my dream, but they ensue again, drawing my attention to the window at my right.

Pulling back the covers, I slip out of bed and head towards the source of the sound.

As I push the curtains aside, I am greeted by a handsome face, visible only by moonlight. A smile makes its way onto my face as I unlock the latch and lift the glass pane.

His lips do a quick upturning, but immediately I notice that it is forced.

I step back from the window, leaving room for him to enter. He does just that, climbing in, and landing smoothly inside.

I want to question him. I want to know what's wrong. But I shouldn't ask him. I can't ask him.

He looks at me, his eyes watery and reddened, far from their usual bright aqua, telling me a story that his mouth never will: he's hurt, he's broken. And even though I don't know why, I feel myself becoming angry at whatever--whoever--could be the cause of this.

Neither of us says a word. The dead silence of the night echoes around us as we stand there, a few inches apart, having a muted conversation through looks and gazes.

Eventually, I pull him to me, his giant stature and muscular body towering over me, and yet I am the one comforting him. He bends his neck, burrowing into me as best he can. His body is shaking as sobs course through him.

We make our way to my bed, never breaking the embrace. Our bodies are a tangle as we try to fall asleep, as he tries to escape into the temporary bliss that only comes with sleep.

As I feel myself getting nearer and nearer to a dreamy bliss of my own, I can't help but be thankful that my parents chose this weekend to visit my grandparents.

"Elise?"

The sound of my name takes me out of my reverie, bringing me back to the harsh reality that is my life.

Looking up, I stare right into a pair of seafoam-colored eyes, and chills immediately run up my spine. My heart rate quickens instantly, before I am even able to recall that I'm with my lawyer, not my late husband.

He sits back in his chair once again looking me over, his eyes slightly squinted. "Look, I know that this isn't easy to do, but you have to." His voice is detached and generic, the statement most likely a recurrence in his work language. "I just need you to be honest."

I return my attention to his startling eyes, but am surprised to see that they are no longer an aqua color, but instead a bright blue. Confused, I can't bring myself to look away.

His eyes were definitely greener before, right?

"Elise?" he questions again.

Shutting my eyes and shaking my head, I mumble, "What do you want to know?"

"Why don't we begin with how the two of you met."

Not bothering to open my eyes, I respond with a curt, "We went to the same high school."

I hear him sigh, obviously not content with my basic response. "Elise," he says warningly, much like a father would to a troublesome child.

I open my eyes, but this time I focus my attention on the hands in my lap, rather than on his bewildering pair of eyes.