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The right side of the bed was cold. There was no pressure over there. He must've gotten up again. I took a deep breath in and slowly started to get up. I stretched my arms, my shoulders, my neck and my calves. I was uncomfortable but it was 4am. Far to early to pay attention to how I felt. My brain felt like static and fluffy clouds. I swung my legs out of bed and put on my fuzzy socks. He had gotten them for me on my 21st birthday. Was I expecting more? Yes. Could I stay mad at him when I found out how comfortable they were? No. I got up, stretched my back, grabbed my robe and walked out of our room.
I stepped into the hallway, closing our door behind me. It was much colder than I thought. I saw a changing light out of my peripherals at the end. I wonder what could be so intresting on at 4am... My vision was still partically fuzzy. Finally at the end of the hallway, in our living room, watching TV and sitting on the couch was my husband.
"Orel?" My voice was veiled in groginess. He turned his head towards me. His eyes widened.
"Oh! Sorry. Did I wake you?" He kept his voice a whisper to not wake the kids.
"Don't worry about that." Yes. Yes he did. He slowly nodded his head and patted the space next to him. A soft smile on my face as I sat down next to him. I glanced towards the screen. It was some chick-flick from the 2000s. It was on mute with subtitles. I put my head on his shoulder. I felt him kiss my scalp. My face warmed up.
"Any plans today?" He mumbled out. I felt his hands in my hair. Soft. Soft and gentle hands.
"I was going to go to the grocery store. The bannans we have are going brown so I was going to make banana bread." I could feel how happy he was after I said that. I sighed, "I was going to check in on Block and Shapey today."
"Oh?" It seems all the happiness drained from him right then and there. I titled my head so I could look up at him. He looked exaughsted but interested.
"Do you want to go this time?" I asked him.
"What time did you plan on going?"
"Visitation hours are between 12pm to 4pm today."
He looked unsure. "Are the kids going with?"
"Probably not. I don't want them to see their uncle and aunt like that..." I trailed off. It was incredibly unsettling in there. Just the walls could make someone shutter. It was so clean it looked like it was hiding something. How could I let my kids see something blankly horrific?
"..."
"You alright, Orel?"
"Yes im alright..." He mumbeled after a brief pause. He adjusted his position so I'd be laying my head on his chest. "Are we censoring our children from the harshness of the world for their sake or ours?"
"What?" I felt a new grey-hair pop up at this exact moment.
"I guess what I'm asking is," He started playing with my hair. "Are we keeping them from seeing Block and Shapey in there so they won't think negatively of them? Or so we don't have to explain to them why they are in there? Why they're dressed like that? Why they-" His words quickened.
"Think of it like this," I cut him off. He was working himself into a frenzy. "You don't just tell kids about how babies are made when they're 8 or 9. You wait until they are more mature. Until they can wrap their minds around such subjects. Ya know, so it isn't that big of a shock."
"Is the plan just to wait until we can see the light leave their eyes only so we can tell them it gets worse?"
"...when you put it like that...it sounds awful." I shrugged. Orel groaned slightly and furrowed his brows.
A few moments of silence passed by. Man Reese Witherspoon is such a good actor. You go girl.
"I keep telling myself I'm not going to be like my dad. I want to give our children something better than what we went through. But I..I... I don't know how to explain it-"
"You keep finding similarities between you and him?...In the subtle ways?"
"Yeah," He paused "In the subtle ways." I sighed as I saw his eyes drop to the floor. He then immediately looked back up when he saw Jennifer Coolidge. I felt his cheeks push up to a smile.
"You've lived through too much to let it break you now." I mumbled it out. I didn't think he'd heard me.
"It broke Doughy." I felt his throat tighten. Maybe it would've been better if he actually didn't hear me at all.
How do you tell someone it gets better when they have a negative experience with everything? It took 110% of my being to not roll my eyes. He kissed my head.
"I'm sorry."
I nuzzled into his neck. "Yeah. That wasnt helpful at all." I muttered out. He looked ashamed. "You were doing so well."
"I know I was. I just uhm- I don't know. I just go through these random swings. I thought maybe they'd go away as I got older but then they didn't." All I could do was nod my head. It was the most polite thing to do. It was also 4am and I didn't really feel like talking. "I'm taking my medicine. I'm seeing my therapist and psychiatrist. I have a good diet. I get out enough-"
"Depending on the day," I had to cut him off again. He was spiraling. "Depending on the day." I repeated. He looked down at me. He furrowed his brows and I felt him bite his lower lip.
"Christina." His voice was shaky. I sat up slowly and wrapped my arms around him. He gladly fell into me.
I started stroking his hair. "Yes?"
"I'm not going to be like him." He took a sharp, stuffy inhale. "That's not who I am. That isn't my true nature. I'm sorry."
"I know it isn't, Orel." I heard myself trail off. "I know it isn't." I kissed his head. He was warm amd sweaty. "And you should know that isn't who you are either."
"I do. I do know."
"You sure?"
"At times I doubt it. But I know who I am."
"And who are you?"
"I'm a good dad. You seem happy most of the time so I must be a good husband...I love cooking and our kids love it. I'm a good cook. I get paid good money and have been employee of the month more times than anyone else. I'm a hard worker. I love my family. I am Orel." I felt his heart beat steady. I felt his breath calm. I felt his brows unforrow. I pulled away from him. I held his face in my hands.
"That's right. There he is." I kissed him. I smiled and I could feel him smile too.
He pulled away first. "Oh!" He looked at the screen. "This is where-"
"Yeah get your dog back!" We were cheering for a screen. A screen playing a movie we had rewatched dozens of times. I looked back at him. His eyes happily melded to the screen.
I felt myself smile widely. That's my man. I thought. That's my man.