“Good morning, Lenny,” he said while smiling brightly at me. He walked over to my side of the bed and plopped the cup down on my cluttered nightstand. I would have tidied up, but of course, there were clothes strewn about the room, and my nightstand was littered with empty water bottles and overall junk.
My head snapped from side to side, looking for the letters. The letters I refused to pull out for the past two years, but thought last night would be the best time to see them again. Then I saw them, they were folded neatly and sitting on the twin nightstand on the other side of the bed.My throat started to dry up seeing them again. It’s funny the thing we give stock to, and how words on a page could spark an entire melt down.
He leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of my head like it was what he did every morning without fail. The smell of coffee filled the room, its aroma called out to my exhaustion.The bed creaked beneath his weight as he sat on the edge. I took my first sip and sighed. Why was coffee always better when it's made for you by someone else?
“I slept in the guest room. I couldn’t bring myself to leave. I hope that’s okay with you,” he said as he reached out and stroked the high part of my cheek.
It was simple phrases like that. The ones that fell from his lips so effortlessly and made me think falling in love again could be possible. Phrases that calmed me down and sent me into panic within mere seconds of each other.
I set my cup back down and shifted around in bed so that I was fully upright. He probably showed up last night thinking I needed company, or someone to talk to or sit with, instead he witnessed a full breakdown. “Listen, about last night, I feel like I should apologize.” My hands twisted themselves into the blanket to match the bundle of nerves that knotted in my stomach.
If there was ever a chance to run from a relationship, or whatever it was that we were, this would be the time to do it.
There was a nagging voice in the back of my head saying he was going to take the opening.
“Normally, I spend the big days alone. Birthdays, our anniversary, and whatnot. No matter how many times I tell myself I can get through the day without breaking down, that it’s okay to be sad, but don’t let it overwhelm you, I still haven’t mastered it. Asyou witnessed.” I tried to look at him, but my throat began to constrict, and there were tears threatening to gather again. Instead, I focused on the French doors that led out to the backyard. From here I could see the pool; the sun reflected off the water, causing flecks of light to bounce off of the top. It was one of my favorite spots in the house, but now, it wasn’t doing much for my nerves the way I’d hoped it would.
He didn’t run. Theo’s hand reached out to hold on to mine. “There is nothing you have to say sorry for. The love you have for Camden was life changing, the grief that followed his death was bound to be just as large.”
Was it that simple? I had been trying to stuff Camden into a box that I could slide under the floorboards and would only pull it out when I thought I could face him. But the issue was I never should have tried to hide away and or fight the pain that still lived inside me.
My husband was dead. I was still completely wrecked, and that was okay.
The hurt that I was holding onto was a part of me; there was no shame in letting people in to see. Having Theo here last night made me realize I could use the company on the days when it was too much for me to hold on to.
Morning breath be damned, I leaned forward and kissed him. Every part of me wanted to reach for him and pull him closer. Instead, I pressed my lips harder into him, in an attempt to put everything I have been too afraid to tell him into this one kiss. I broke down every ounce of affection I had, every moment wherehe made me feel like I was finally whole again, and poured it into him.
One, two, three more kisses, he pressed against my lips before pulling away. His eyes roamed across my face, and then I saw it. It came like the flash of green you see in a sunset over the ocean. If you blinked at the right time, you’d miss it.
It stopped me in my place and caused my heart’s rhythm to unbalance. He looked at me like I was the last thing he wanted to see at night and the first thing in the morning.
He looked at me like he could love me forever and it wouldn’t be enough time.
The heaviness that followed a breakdown and that blinding green flash from Theo hung in the air. I needed to do something before I became antsy with an emotional hangover.
I looked around the room, then threw the covers off to drag myself out of bed. Theo stood with me, waiting to see what came next. There was no booklet on how to handle someone else’s trauma. But he did it beautifully, regardless.
My hands ran through my tangled strands of hair, and I drew the confidence to ask him to stay. “Do you need to be anywhere, or can you stay a while?”
His eyes softened at my words. “I’m all yours, Lennon,” he replied, and the statement resonated down into my bones—he didn’t just mean for today.
I reluctantly told him to go put on a shirt while I changed out of my pajamas, then dragged him down the hall and out to the backyard, to the lonely garden box in the corner. The flowers hadbeen flourishing since I’d planted them, the bright white could be seen from any part of the yard, and it brought me comfort to see them do so well.
“This is my garden. My therapist likes to give unconventional homework.” I bumped his shoulder with my own. “This is what helps me,” I said, as I knelt down beside the box and began to pull at the weeds that had formed. The dirt was cool under my hands and I finally began to relax.
“There’s something about putting my hands into the dirt and tending to the plants that calms the storm that usually takes up space in my head,” I admitted. He joined me on the ground and mimicked my movements as I worked.
“These are daffodils, right?” he asked as he sat back on his feet.
“Uh, yeah, they are.”
“Did you know that daffodils are a symbol of new beginnings?” I turned to look at him.Such a strange fact, I thought, as I pulled the last of the unwanted weeds from the dirt.
“How do you know that?” I shook my head in amusement and looked back at the flowers.
“I had a girlfriend who was really into flower language. She came with me on an assignment somewhere in England, and one of the castles talked about it on a tour. They used it a lot in Victorian times. She loved it. Sometimes, I would bring her flowers based on what they meant because I knew it made her happy.” He smiled down into the dirt in remembrance, or embarrassment, I couldn’t tell.
I wasn’t surprised in the slightest that he treated everyone he’d been with, with the same care and tenderness that I get from him. It might’ve been one of the best parts of him. He was truly an amazing human to be around.
