Chapter Text
Agnes fidgeted with the ring on her finger.
The amount of paperwork needed and papers to be graded as the deadline approached was giving her anxiety. Was she going to be able to finish them in time? Not only was it her job, but her students also relied on these to help them understand what they needed to work on.
The time read 4:01, a little over 30 minutes since the school day had ended, and they could go home. But she wasn’t sure if she should leave these papers on her desk or bring them home, as much as possible she never wanted to bring any work to her house—their house, where she and Thomas lived in.
The man she married had always been so understanding and caring if ever she did bring home work (which was rare), and she needed to stick to her desk whenever she needed to finish her work as soon as possible. It wasn’t like she didn’t enjoy being a teacher; it was just moments like these that she would dread doing. She hated it every time she wasn’t able to rest with him. If she were going to bring home work with her, it would have been the stories of what had happened in her classes that day that she would want to share. They always laid in bed together, talking about their day.
4:03.
Thomas had gone home early today, nothing to do at his office at the college when his classes ended. He had messaged a few minutes earlier that he would be cooking dinner. A part of her wonders what good has she ever done in her life to deserve a man like that.
With a sigh, she gathered the papers and neatly arranged them and then put them in her bag. She would have needed to pull off a miracle if she wanted to finish it on the desk of the faculty room, which was asking much from the Lord.
Turning off the lights of the room, she made her way to the bus stop. The ride home wouldn’t take long — 30 minutes, give or take. And she still needed to walk a bit from her stop. It was far, considering they were at the border between the city and endless fields.
When they get past retirement age they would move further into the fields. Somewhere more quiet. They would have a farm, maybe, a garden too. The thought gave her comfort amidst the anxiety and exhaustion she was feeling. To wake up without another thought in the world, just the two of them. They could travel if they wanted to, visit their friends when they could, when they were available. Sometimes, as a kid, it wasn’t understandable why older people would just sit outside of their homes; now, that was all she wanted to do these days.
The door to their home opened with a creak. Warm light greeted her as the sound of someone cooking could be heard from the entrance.
“Dear? Is that you?” She heard him call from the kitchen. It made her smile. Agnes walked to the kitchen door, Thomas’s back facing her as he was busy handling the pan in his hand.
“I’m home.” She said this made him look over his shoulder, a smile greeting her as he turned off the stove.
“Just in time. Dinner’s ready.” She watched him transfer the food from the pan to a plate. The prepared plates and spoon and fork on the dinner table as well as glasses of water.
“I…” Agnes hesitated. It was fairly early to eat dinner, and she knew if she did, she would feel too sleepy to work. Her time management was getting more and more terrible. Thomas looked up at her, the question in his eyes. She walked towards him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry, mon amour, I just don’t feel like eating today.”
“Today? Did you eat today?” She had to think for a moment. She skipped lunch, ate a piece of bread for breakfast today, and mostly just drank water.
“I’ll be fine, thank you.” Agnes managed to reach the hallway before quick footsteps followed her and arms wrapped around her waist that pulled her to the living room couch. “Thomas!” She lightly laughed; it tickled her a bit.
He held her against him. “Put the bag down.” He put his head in the crook of her neck. She felt his breath against her skin.“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. What’s wrong is you won’t let me finish my work.”
“I’ll let you finish, you just have to eat.”
“You know how I can get sleepy after I eat.” Agnes saw the stare he gave her at the response. At the age of 48, he was still trying to give her puppy eyes. “Don’t give me that look.”
“What look?” He hid a smile behind her shoulder.
“I’m serious! I need to finish my work!”
“You put too much pressure on yourself.”
“I don’t.”
“You never rest!” Somehow, she was taken aback by that.
“I do! I was in bed with you just this morning!”
“You rarely bring home work, and when you do, you don’t seem to notice the time and forget to eat.” She could feel his thumb rubbing circles around her stomach where he still held her against him. “Share your burden with me. You know you always could.” He said against her shoulder.
Agnes wasn’t sure what she even needed to think about. They were married for nearly 15 years and somehow, somehow she still didn’t want to burden him any more than she felt. In many ways, he still found a way to share her burden through the years without her explicitly mentioning what was bothering her. Suppose if he had done the same to her, there would be some frustration in it. He was finally letting it out.
“It’s okay to ask for help.”
One of the first things she remembers him telling her when they first became friends.
It wasn’t that she was too proud to ask for help (perhaps partially); it was just that she didn’t know how. And somehow, in the last 15 years, she still hasn’t learned how to. It was a habit that she still won’t shake off. Even if now and then it did shake off, she would immediately forget the next day.
This was ridiculous, she thought. The thought makes her choke up as she lets out a shaky breath.
“My dear?” Thomas calls out to her again, still holding her.
Agnes drops her bag to the floor as she turns to him, melting into his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She whispers, crying to him.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Thomas holds her, hugs her closer to him. He leaves a kiss on her temple.
“I’m just so exhausted.” He only hummed at that. “I’m so… tired, Thomas. I’m…”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
Agnes wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. Taking in his warmth. Home, she thought. He had always felt like home to her. A comforting feeling, like the sun basking on her skin or the comfort of their bed during a rainy day where classes had been cancelled. Her best friend of many years. The anxiety she had felt earlier died down as she stayed in his arms. The same familiar feeling she had felt for the last 15 years.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” She heard him laugh.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I should be asking what I did.”
“Should be me.”
“I’m a man , darling. I faithfully believed that women deserve better than me and I deserve better than a man.” Agnes laughed at that. She shook her head as she pulled back to look at him, her hands on his shoulders. She fixed the collar of his shirt. “Hello.”
“Hi.”
“You’re beautiful. And lovely. And strong. Have I mentioned beautiful?” He said it above a whisper.
Agnes giggled at that, rolling her eyes. “Don’t flirt with me.”
“Is it flirting if I’m just stating facts?”
“The charmer that you ever are, Thomas Lawrence. This is why you had every woman and man fall for you.” Agnes had a slight dislike for him when they were first introduced to each other. A playboy that she had swore to never entertain.
“Oh, that was all natural.” He joked.
Turned out he wasn’t one, he was just a magnet. Thomas Lawrence had no clue how to talk to either man or woman.
Younger her would be rolling on the floor to see where their relationship landed.
“I love you.” She said.
“And I love you.” Agnes leaned forward to kiss him.
“Let’s eat? I’ll help you with your work after.”
“Okay.” He laughed at that as they both got up from the couch. He held her hand in his as they approached the dining table.
Agnes sat down as Thomas, as dramatic as it was, knelt before her and left a kiss on her hand.
“I have something, by the way.” She looked curiously at him as he crossed back over to the living room to get something. When he returned, “Flowers.”
“Flowers?” She raised a brow. It made her think if today was a special occasion. There was no way her of all people had forgotten a special occasion. “Is today a special day I don’t know about?”
“Does it have to be a special day to give my wonderful, beautiful, and amazing wife some flowers?” They were white tulips. And she had to give it to him, he had a point there. She smiled at the gesture as she took them in her hand and smelled them. Agnes never had a favorite flower, but she had an appreciation for them.
“Thank you.” He bent down to give her another kiss on the lips.
“Anything for you.” Thomas walked back to the counter to get the prepared food and placed it in between them. “Where would you want to place them?” He asked as he got a vase from the cupboards and put some water in them. He held it in front of her as she gently placed them inside.
“I think the entrance would be lovely.”
“Okay.” Quickly, he left the kitchen again and placed it right by the door of their home. “ Now, let’s eat.”
“Thank you, mon amour.”
“Bare minimum,” Thomas said as he sat down on the chair in front of her, his hand reaching hers. “Any man who loves his wife would have done the same.”
Agnes only stared at him. The accumulated exhaustion from the past 2 weeks had suddenly disappeared within just 30 minutes of being in her own home, in his arms, sitting in front of him at their dining table, with food he made for them.
They would spend the next 2 hours after dinner in the office space of their home. Thomas had been done with his work hours ago; he just stayed by Agnes’s side in the space, watching her finish the papers, bringing her water and light snacks every now and then, some attempts to keep her from nodding her head off. Every so often, he would go behind her and massage her shoulders, she would lean into his touch.
“Tell me if you need anything.” She turned to Thomas, who had his head propped up against his hand that was resting on the arm of his chair. The look of love and admiration in his eyes.
“You can turn in already, if you like.”
“I think I already have.” She raised an eyebrow at that, only smiled, and shook her head as she went back to her papers.
This was rest enough.