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It is a quarter past eleven in the evening, and Robert sits chest-deep in the water of his bathtub.
Quarter past eleven. One minute more than his father ever got to live.
It was this time, on this day last year that Robert’s father passed away, and it still hadn’t gotten any easier to live without him. Even if all his father ever did was belittle him, pressing him into the mold made for him in the business. Even when he’d shout or cast him out, Robert could never get used to not hearing his voice. It was quieter without him, and Robert didn’t like the quiet.
He’s used to the shadows, not the light, which made everything—even things outside the business—feel like a challenge.
But then there’s you. Loving, caring, and honest in everything.
You remind him so much of his mother, or what he can remember of her. When his mother was still alive, it was the last time he felt loved. The last time he felt worthy of being taken care of as he deserved it instead of having to ask for it.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him that he wanted to marry you, but it was one of the best decisions he’s ever made. He woke up each morning in your arms, instead of cold, empty sheets. When he’d come home, you’d be there. You’re the wish he never knew he wanted, but now that you’re here he never wants to let you go.
The door creaks open, spilling light from outside of the bathroom. He wasn’t sitting in the dark, but the light really needed fixing. The bulb was dulling each time it was turned on, yet Robert couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not tonight.
He’s sitting here numb until he sees your face poked through the doorway, a warmth instantly spreading through him like you had brought him back to life.
You step into the bathroom, walking toward the bathtub to sit on the rim, your hand stretching out to card fingers through his damp hair. A blissful sigh leaves his lips with the touch alone, leaning into your hand like he’s never felt the touch of another person before.
Your smile is soft when he trails wet fingers along your arm, brushing up and down as the two of you sit in silence, admiring and loving the other in the air and in touch.
Even without words, you make him smile. It’s only small, hardly recognizable even to himself, but you’ve always been able to notice. You picked up on the little things; the subtle details that no one else could spot, not even his father.
Twenty minutes past eleven now and you stand, peeling off layers of clothing one by one, stepping into the bathtub, and sitting adjacent to him.
The water rises an inch when you sit down comfortably, your legs pressed against his. You sink down until the water level reaches your neck, smiling at Robert with your arms on either side of the tub. The light from outside the room catches the wedding band on your finger, shining, but not as brightly as your smile when you wave him over.
He doesn’t care about the water that spills over the edge when he moves forward to lay his body against yours, his head on your shoulder above the water, with your arms wrapped around him and drawing patterns onto his skin.
What he cares about is you and knowing that as long as you’re in his life, he’ll never feel alone again.