Project Sleeper

Chapter Ten

"It's times like these that I wish you were here," Zeke whispers thickly to the framed photograph. The woman, whose smile is kind and whose eyes sparkle, sits next to a much younger-looking Zeke in the picture. The older Zeke's eyes now glisten with tears.

"I know that I have to tell Lydia who she is. Soon." He's had to get used to calling her by her fake name, since he couldn't have himself accidentally calling her Juliet in front of people who knew her as Lydia. "She's 13, now. I owe it to her."

Zeke quickly brushes the tears from his eyes as his sets the picture of his dead wife back down on the dresser. He breathes in deep before he grabs his tool belt and walks out the door to go to work.

When Zeke first saw her, he was a college student. She was, too, but she was attending a different college. Sylvia was working at a diner to help pay for her tuition, and she was living with an aunt.

Zeke saw her when he went to dinner with a few school friends. Her dark brown hair was up in a messy bun, and strands of hair were falling into her face. She was frustratedly brushing them out of her face as she took someone's order. Her apron had food stains, and her tanned skin was covered in pudding splatters. She didn't wear a stitch of makeup on her face or on her perfectly soft lips.

And she was beautiful.

Zeke went to the diner every single day after that. It completely drained his funds; he was a student. He couldn't afford to eat out every day. But he did. Even if all he ordered was a cup of coffee, he went. He might have gone to bed hungry a few nights, but to him, it was worth it.

He couldn't actually talk to her. The only words he said to her were his order. She would smile warmly at him, and he would blush. Sometimes she'd even wink at him, and he'd have to take quick trips to the bathroom and stand over the toilet on occasion just in case he threw up.

The only reason he knew her name was because Zeke heard other workers talking to her, calling her "Sylvia".

Sylvia.

He went in one evening, coaching himself, telling himself that he had to say something to her. He had to talk to her. So when Sylvia came to Zeke's table, he panicked. He froze. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't even order. So he simply stood up, looked her in the eyes, and said the first thing that came to mind.

"You are beautiful."

At that, she blushed intensely, and she had a hard time coming up with any words in response. Zeke then mercifully asked for a slice of apple pie, and she was happy to oblige.

From then on, nothing could stop the endless words that passed between them.

Until she died, that is.

She was one of the first victims of the plague. Sylvia didn't get any medical attention, though. She knew she was dying, and she insisted on dying in her own home.

Tears streaking a younger Zeke's face, he cupped Sylvia's face in his hands. She cried, too, but not for the same reasons.

Her face was hollow. She was slowly emptying her body of everything. Soon, she'd be throwing up bits and pieces of the inside of her body, until she finally died.

"My darling," Zeke cried, holding her close. She weakly patted him.

"Listen to me," she whispered, and Zeke pulled away a little. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me." At this, he cries more.

"You are the only good thing that has ever happened to me." He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Zeke," she croaked. "Please promise me that you won't always be alone." Zeke shook his head.

"I can't do that. I won't ever love anyone like I love you. It won't ever be the same."

"Please, Zeke."

"I love you, beautiful."

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As Zeke hammers away in the carpenter shop he now works in, he has to smile a little to himself.

Because he's not alone, anymore.

And he loves Juliet.

Maybe not in the same way that he loved Sylvia. But it is still love, and it is still deep.