It set about as well as sand in my back teeth.
Even as the agitation continued to eat me up, reason reared its ugly head, and I had to admit that Major hadn’t taken anything from me or Robert. It wasn’t like he fell asleep on purpose. Besides, I’d been the one who’d requested the snuggles. If being wrapped up with someone else put me to sleep, why wouldn’t it have the same effect on him?
Knowing I was being unreasonable had only served to irritate me further.
With all of the Olympic-level gymnastics going on in my head, I couldn’t go back to sleep. Not only had my brain decided that I’d cheated on my husband, I missed sleeping next to Robert so badly that I couldn’t fathom leaving Major’s warmth.
Mostly, I was confused and angry that I’d never again have this with Robert.
I was pissed at Robert, too, because he’d insisted that I find someone after he was gone. He knew how much I loved sharing a bed with him and that I’d sleep for shit in the months after his passing. Every time I read that damned letter of his, I saw him pushing, pushing, pushing to get me to this place.
Most people would look at me, barely a year from losing my husband, and wonder why I had moved on so quickly. They wouldn’t understand that I would never move on.Ever. Robert had been and would always be my forever. The words “till death do us part” were pretty fucking meaningless, in my opinion. His urn was in my bathroom, his ring was on my finger, and there they would stay. We were never parting.
And yet.
Major didn’t expect me to move on. He assumed that Robert was as much a part of my life now as before, even if the terms had changed. He’d never once avoided the subject of my late husband, often bringing him into the conversation. He’d known and loved Robert in a different context, and his grief was a different shape than mine, but he never viewed him as an impediment to our arrangement.
Major had a peace about him that bled into my muscles every time he was near me. Had I allowed myself his comfort, I’d have slept better than I had in months. But I couldn’t. It was beyondmy ability to let go of the twined grief and guilt that arose from his brand of solace.
For the rest of the night, I’d swung between tears, regret, warmth, and confusion. Now that it was morning, I was exhausted and too emotional to be reasonable. I watched the sun come up through the half-open blinds and caught the flutter of red wings on the tree outside the window. I wondered, vaguely, if this was the season for cardinals.
My eyes drifted to Major to find him looking back at me.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice wrapping me up in its gravelly depths.
I couldn’t help but smile back, even as the decision I’d made settled in my heart. “Good morning.”
I imagined Robert’s look of consternation. I knew he’d be disappointed in my decision, but that was too damned bad. He was dead, and I was alive, and I was the one who had to live with my choices. My brain—and my heart—couldn’t take this level ofintimacy for a second longer.
Sorry, love. I can’t do this. It hurts too much.
Robert, as ever, remained quiet. I knew my husband well enough to know what he’d say in most every situation, but never once in the long months since his passing had I been able to imagine him speaking to me. Something about that pissed me off, especially now. Especially when I knew he would disagree.
Say something, you asshole. I know you want to.
The fact of the matter was that Robert had never lost a husband. I had. And as helpful as his little note had been, Robert had noclue what it felt like to try and put myself back together, let alone my heart. So, yeah. This felt too close. Too cuddly.
Major, unaware of my thoughts, pulled me into a warm, perfect hug. “Can I make you some breakfast? I hear you like chilaquiles, and mine are?—”
I cut him off, unable to bear him being nice to me. “I’m sorry. This isn’t going to work.”
Major drew back, even as he maintained the embrace. “Thisas in breakfast, orthisas in…”
With his arms so warm and heavy around me, I gestured between the two of us. “This as in us.”
He released me and carefully scooted back, giving me the distance that I needed. It felt as awful as I’d thought it would. Even if Robert remained ever-so-unhelpfully silent, the other parts of me—my heart, especially—got very loud.
I knew better, though, so I shoved it all down. Then stomped on it till things got quiet in my head.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” I began.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, sadness marking his features as he interrupted my apology.
“No. You’ve never done anything wrong,” I said, telling the entire truth.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I wasn’t trying to make this more than it was. I promise.”
One of the many things I’d enjoyed about Major was that he wasn’t a liar. Which was how I could tell he was lying now. Strangely enough, I doubted that he knew he wasn’t beingtruthful. The way I’d caught him looking at me, the way he’d held me… If I offered more, he’d take it.
