Every Little Thing

Chapter Thirty-Six

            Days flew by as I sat in a bed, facing a wall I couldn’t see. Everything seemed a bit pointless now that my vision was broken. Days blurred into one big time space and I felt myself slipping away from reality. You don’t really notice what you have until it’s snatched away from you. We never understand how much we take advantage of something given to us without a charge. 

            The doctors ran test after test. At one point, I could see shadows of light, as if it was only my eyelids blocking me from seeing; other times, I was faced with complete darkness. One night, I woke up and I could have sworn that I saw Eric curled up in the chair beside my bed. On my sixteenth day of recovery, my doctor informed me that I would, in fact, get my vision back, but they didn’t know when. It could be tomorrow; it could be ten years from now. Either way, I was happy; apparently Eric was, too. He scooped me up from the bed and twirled me around. He’s been my rock through everything; from sneaking me chocolate to holding me when I need it most. I only allow physical contact with him since I’m at such a vulnerable state. Even before this, he could read my body language and he adjusted himself so that we fit perfectly. If we walked our hands were intertwined, he gently tapped the back of my hand when we needed to turn a corner. When I needed to sit down, he’d squeeze my hip twice. When a crowd of people were surrounding us, his hand would fall to my lower back, rubbing soothing circles. 

            But that wasn’t all he did. He read to me, which was the highlight of my day. The way the words fell from his lips laced in a husky voice makes me fall into a spell. He also likes to describe our surroundings a lot; I say I don’t need it, but he knows me enough to see that I adore when he does it. 

            He brought me to the hospital cafeteria to eat on the last day of my stay. The doctors told him that since he was a training special needs assistant, he was fit to take care of me at home. The key to regaining my sight is relaxation and being comfortable. The nerves in my brain will unclench and restore my vision. Apparently, it was like a rubber band being stretched; I just need to ease myself out of it. 

            “Five tables to the right, the man by the window is eating a plate full of carrots. He’s got a beard that’s longer than my hair and your hair combined and he’s wearing a full white tracksuit," he says softly from my right side, as he places what felt like a sandwich in my hand. I brought it up to my lips and it was, in fact, a Nutella sandwich. “Three girls just walked in; all in matching pajamas. The woman at the hostess’ station looks angrier than our math teacher did when I would to have a cigarette behind my ear in class," he says. I can hear a small chuckle in his voice. 

            “Eric?" I say, and he runs his hand up my thigh and laces our fingers together. 

            “Yes, baby?" he asks. From the volume of his voice, I assume he’s looking directly at my face. Although I would like to try and at least see the outline of his head, I had a thick gauze tape wrapped around my eyes to the back of my skull to shield my eyes. It will come off in three days; until then, I’ve got to put up with an itchy scalp and keep my eyes closed. 

            “I’m sorry," I mumble. I feel his arm drape over my shoulder, pulling me into him. Even if my eyes are broken, my head will always find its way to the crook of his neck. 

            “It’s my pleasure to look after my little lady," he whispers before planting a kiss on the top of my head. 

            “I really love you," I say before lift my head up. I lifted my hand to his face, finding his chin. I trace up to his lips and run my thumb over his bottom lip before holding his chin again and bringing him in to kiss me.