Jude Christopher Brahm,
Can I just tell you how much I love you?
Yes? Okay.
I love you across the ocean, over the mountains, through the stars, and to the very bottom of the deepest crevice of the sea floor.
I love you with every cell that makes up me. With every hair on my head, and every pore in my skin. With every capillary, every vein, and every drop of blood.
If you put all of those numbers and distances together, that's almost an entire percent of how much I love you. And that's a lot.
Wake up so I can kiss you silly, okay?
~ ~ ~
I can remember one day that was almost as bad as the day we lost Emery.
It was two weeks after I'd been released from my two-day stay hospital. I was lying on my bed by myself, and I could hear you in the kitchen, making a snack or something.
Neither of my parents had been in to see me for a while. I didn't want to see anyone.
You peeked in through the door, a bowl in hand. "Can I come in?"
"Sure," I said, voice cracking.
I wasn't crying. I only cried at night, most of the time, but my voice always seemed more rough than usual.
You walked over to the bed and eased up beside me, resting one hand gently on my waist. "Do you need anything? Can I get you something?"
I swallowed a little. "Can you rub my back?"
You set down your bowl and nodded. "Of course. I have some ice cream, do you want any?"
I shook my head. "No."
Your hands were warm as you gently kneaded the muscles in my shoulders. But you didn't say anything. I don't think that you knew what to say to me, if you were to speak.
I shifted so that I was lying flat on my stomach and rested my face in my arms.
"Baby?" you asked softly, still rubbing my back.
"Yeah?"
"I don't want you to be in pain. I really want to help you."
I swallowed, sighed. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not. You're closed off from me." Your voice was soft, but I could feel the iron in it. The hurt.
Because it was true. I wasn't talking to you. I wasn't making any effort to make you feel wanted.
I was. You were. And both of us were suffering.
"Please don't shut me out," you said softly.
I closed my eyes and changed the subject altogether. "I can't stay here, Jude. I can't stay in this room, with my family, in this place. It's killing me."
You ducked your head, lowering yourself onto the bed next to me. "Traveling won't be fun while you're still sick."
"I'm not sick," I said, growing frustrated. "I'm caged."
You thought for a moment, absently running your fingers over my shoulder. "We could get an apartment."
"We need to do something."
You smiled at me, glasses slightly askew. "Do you like Fayetteville?"
I furrowed my brow, considering the city that was about an hour north of my old hometown. "I guess. It's a decent place."
"My dad owns some property up there."
"He does?"
You nodded, picking at a loose thread in the quilt. "A house and a couple of condominiums."
I took a deep breath. "And would he let us have the house?"
"He offered it to me when we got married, but since we left nothing ever happened with it."
I stared at you for a moment, my heart rate picking up. "Can you ask him if he'll still give it to us?"
"I'm sure he'd still let us have it," you said, earnest. "My dad loves you, even though he's a porcupine sometimes."
I almost smiled. "You mean all of the time."
You shrugged, smiling a little. "He can be prickly. But the house is ours."
I closed my eyes, relaxed against the mattress, and sighed. "I can't stay here," I whispered. "I just can't. There has been too much here for me to stay."
"I understand," you assured me. "This house hurts you?"
"Everything hurts me." I opened my eyes and looked at you.
"Everything?"
I swallowed lightly, brow furrowing. "Almost."
"Can I help?" you asked softly.
I shook my head.
"Aurora." You lifted one hand to cup the side of my face. "Can you promise me that I won't lose you?"
After a moment of thought, I shook my head again, eyes locked with yours.
"I don't want you to fade away," you whispered. "Can you promise me that you won't?"
"I can't promise anything."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing," I replied.
You sat up and grabbed the bowl of ice cream from earlier off the nightstand. "When we get out of this house, I think you'll get better. Then you won't hurt as badly."
But I knew the pain would follow me. It would follow me along with the emptiness I felt inside, the absence of the baby beneath my heart.
When you spoke again, you tone was lighter than before. "My ice cream is more like soup now, but I'm going to make an offer again. Do you want any?"
"Maybe a bite."
You scooped up an unmelted bit and spooned it carefully into my mouth.
"Jude?"
You slurped a spoonful of your ice cream soup and looked at me. "Yes?"
"I love you."
Swallowing the ice cream, you smiled, but it was a fragile smile, the vulnerable, breakable kind. "I love you too."
"Are you sad?"
"I'm trying my best not to be."
I cleared my throat. "Why?"
"Because one of us has to be okay for the other, and that's my job in this relationship."
I blinked. "And who is okay for you?"
"No one is okay for me. I'm okay for the both of us."
I thought about this, my eyes wandering to the ceiling. It was my childhood ceiling. There were glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to it, there were shadowy spots where I had placed stickers.
And now it all only served to remind me of that night.
That's was why I needed to leave. That was why I needed my own house.
"Come here," you said, setting the ice cream bowl on the nightstand.
I sat up and shifted closer.
You reached out and pulled me against your chest. "I miss our baby, too. You're not alone."
I swallowed hard, burying my face in your shirt. "I don't know what to do with myself. I'm so empty. There is nothing that I can do."
Your hold on me tightened, and I felt your hot breath in my hair. "Just heal. Figure out what it is that you need to be doing and do it. You're not useless."
I grabbed handfuls and handfuls of your shirt, inhaling, exhaling. "Fix me."
"Baby, I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't."
"Help me."
"How?" you asked helplessly.
"Love me," I said softly. "That's all you can do."
"I do love you," you murmured. "What do you want from me?"
I took a deep breath, letting you hold me, trying to calm my storm-filled heart. "Just... stay."
"I wouldn't leave you anyway."
"Hold me?"
You nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to my temple. "Always."
I swallowed my tears, trying to deny them as they burned behind my closed eyelids. My chest ached. "I don't understand why this happened to us."
"I don't, either," you whispered. "But no matter what has happened, I'm here, and I'll always be here."
"Promise?" I whispered back.
You nodded. "I promise."
~ ~ ~
You dared to make promises that you couldn't promise that you could keep, and I didn't even dare to make a promise that I could actually keep.
I'm such a coward, love.
But I'm your coward. And I adore you.
Not everyone can be perfect.
But truly, I adore you.
I miss your kisses.
Sincerely,
Aurora
~~~
Hello, all. :) 'Tis I, the frenchiest fry.
I have some news. If you are a relatively unknown author (less that 5k reads), I am creating a book club for the sole purpose of making your books known!
I'm not sure how it's going to work yet, but I'll try to get all of the details out soon. :)
Don't lose your light!
~Anne