muse_manifesto #6: Who do you love?
She never said anything about it to me. I mean, not really. We didn't talk about it. I sort of just assumed that she understood. And she did, to a point. She never asked me not to go. I never really considered just how much it bothered her until after the fact.
Once, I came home a lot later than I realized. He'd been really rough that day and by the time he finally fell asleep it was the middle of the night. I wasn't going to leave him; he could hardly get around on his own then. Still, I had work the next morning and I couldn't just go dressed in what I was wearing. So, after he went to bed I grabbed my keys and left as quietly as I could. Didn't even bother to put my shoes on.
When I got back to the house I didn't think much about the door being unlocked until I looked at my watch. It was a quarter past three in the morning. She'd fallen asleep in the recliner waiting up for me. I grabbed a change of clothes and my toothbrush, packed them away and went into the bathroom to wash my face. It was like I didn't sleep, back then. I remember being tired all the time. The sound of the water running must've woken her because when I came back into the den she was standing, facing the hallway.
Whatever smile was on her face from seeing me instantly faded the moment her eyes fell upon the packed bag in my hand. I pretended not to notice and kissed her forehead, squeezing her arm and murmuring something about him being much better than he was last week. She nodded and didn't say anything, so I told her to go to bed. I remember her smiling at me again, but it was a different smile. It was sad, somehow.
I was at the front door when I realized she hadn't gone into the bedroom yet. She whispered that she loved me. It took me a second to reply and tell her I loved her too, juggling my keys and my tote bag between hands and trying to get the door open. Once I was in the car, driving back toward his apartment with the music turned down low and the heating kicked on, it occured to me that I would've forgotten to say it at all if she hadn't said it first. I didn't think on it for very long, focusing instead on the worry rising in my gut about what I would find by the time I got back to his place.
Luckily, he never did wake up again that night. I locked his door behind me and brushed my teeth, then changed into the t-shirt I'd brought and fell asleep on the sofa. The next morning he woke me up and complained about the television being left on all night. It had only been on for a few hours, really, but I just turned it off and got ready for work without a word. He either didn't notice my toothbrush in the bathroom next to the sink or chose not to say anything.
A month later, when I asked her why she wanted a divorce, she asked me where my toothbrush was. And she never did say anything else about it. Neither did I. Neither did he, for that matter, which makes me wonder sometimes if it was worth anything at all. I guess it was, because even though he never mentioned it, he never threw it away or moved it either.
Muse: Dr. James Wilson
Fandom: House MD
Words: 607
Once, I came home a lot later than I realized. He'd been really rough that day and by the time he finally fell asleep it was the middle of the night. I wasn't going to leave him; he could hardly get around on his own then. Still, I had work the next morning and I couldn't just go dressed in what I was wearing. So, after he went to bed I grabbed my keys and left as quietly as I could. Didn't even bother to put my shoes on.
When I got back to the house I didn't think much about the door being unlocked until I looked at my watch. It was a quarter past three in the morning. She'd fallen asleep in the recliner waiting up for me. I grabbed a change of clothes and my toothbrush, packed them away and went into the bathroom to wash my face. It was like I didn't sleep, back then. I remember being tired all the time. The sound of the water running must've woken her because when I came back into the den she was standing, facing the hallway.
Whatever smile was on her face from seeing me instantly faded the moment her eyes fell upon the packed bag in my hand. I pretended not to notice and kissed her forehead, squeezing her arm and murmuring something about him being much better than he was last week. She nodded and didn't say anything, so I told her to go to bed. I remember her smiling at me again, but it was a different smile. It was sad, somehow.
I was at the front door when I realized she hadn't gone into the bedroom yet. She whispered that she loved me. It took me a second to reply and tell her I loved her too, juggling my keys and my tote bag between hands and trying to get the door open. Once I was in the car, driving back toward his apartment with the music turned down low and the heating kicked on, it occured to me that I would've forgotten to say it at all if she hadn't said it first. I didn't think on it for very long, focusing instead on the worry rising in my gut about what I would find by the time I got back to his place.
Luckily, he never did wake up again that night. I locked his door behind me and brushed my teeth, then changed into the t-shirt I'd brought and fell asleep on the sofa. The next morning he woke me up and complained about the television being left on all night. It had only been on for a few hours, really, but I just turned it off and got ready for work without a word. He either didn't notice my toothbrush in the bathroom next to the sink or chose not to say anything.
A month later, when I asked her why she wanted a divorce, she asked me where my toothbrush was. And she never did say anything else about it. Neither did I. Neither did he, for that matter, which makes me wonder sometimes if it was worth anything at all. I guess it was, because even though he never mentioned it, he never threw it away or moved it either.
Muse: Dr. James Wilson
Fandom: House MD
Words: 607