Love Me Unbroken

~ i ~

Leaning back against the island, arms across my chest, hugging his sweatshirt closer to my body. I remember wearing it years ago when we were younger, having stolen it from him, not giving it back for about six months. A smile grows across my face at the thought and I shut my eyes, the memory flourishing behind my eyelids.

For normal teens, staying young and spryly forever was the dream; Declan and I had other plans. We couldn't wait to be eighteen when the rules made by our parents would soon fade away. The responsibilities of adulthood didn’t worry us, and all we had ever wanted was to be together; that’s all we ever needed.

Now sixteen years later, the highlights of my days are staying up late to make him dinner, getting up early in the morning just so his day gets started off right, none of it being for my own benefit. The moments I now treasure come in the morning at 1:00 am when he comes home, when I wake up for but a moment when his arms wrap me in his embrace. Then a few hours later he’s up again, but not before I can make his coffee just how he likes it. After that follows the bliss of his arm circling my waist and his chapped lips coming to rest on my forehead giving me the feeling of ‘home’ deep in my chest. These moments come to be all that I get, and even less for the little girl sleeping just down the hall from our room. We'll get more.

When I’m alone, I find myself rummaging through his clothes and bringing his shirts to my nose just to smell his scent. Some days I’ll wear his cologne, the aroma taking me back to those monthly dates so long ago, before his career grew wings.

You would think he had gone to war or something and never come back home. But he's really a thirty-two-year-old husband and father, working to provide for his family while also wanting to live his dream. Because of how much he’s away on a daily basis, everyone says I need to leave him. But for me and him, that isn’t an option.

I’m not the type of woman who married him for the money he would make, or for the luxurious lifestyle he would live. I didn’t marry him for his good looks, though they’ve always been a plus. None of these things make me stay; maybe for some women, they only stay around because once they leave they won’t survive out in the real world. This, I am sure, is definitely not a category of women that I range in.

My mind is a strewn with over analyzed thoughts and worries about what is best for me and for Lily. It’s times like these, late in the night, where the distractions of work and my daily life no longer suffice to keeping me from the fears that plague my mind and show through in the bags beneath my eyes during the day, which I cannot hide with make-up. My actions have been repeated time and time again, that making his dinner for him at this late an hour is a breeze. “Do you need any help before I leave, Ainsley?” our housekeeper, Angela, asks me with her hand bag slung on her shoulder.

“No thank you Angie,” I thank her while mustering a genuine smile and walking around the island towards her, giving her a hug. “Say hello to Stan for me alright?”

“Of course. Goodnight,” she waves and walks out of the room and leaves through the foyer.

When I first hired Angie, some of my friends thought I had hired her to watch and take care of Lily while I did whatever I pleased, which was a bit of a shock to me. A true mother wouldn’t push their own child from them like a burden. Instead, Angie helps me with cleaning the house, and helping me with my teaching. Her and I have become friends over the time she’s been with us.

When the water I have set on the stove begins to boil, I add the noodles and turn the heat down slightly to let it sit. Moving to the cutting board on the island, I make small meatballs after grabbing the meat out of the fridge just moments before. Once into a rhythm of mixing the meat with the herbs and spices, my phone begins to ring. 'Mama' shows above my mother's photo. I quickly wipe one hand on the towel beside the cutting board and click ‘Accept’, putting her on speaker. “Hey Mama,” I say loud enough for her to hear.

“Hey sweetheart, how’s it going?” she asks, worry obvious in her voice.

“It’s going good; same ole, same ole. How ’bout you?” I reply, keeping my voice at a happy tone.

“I’m alright, just about to go to bed,” she says and I try to keep what I’m doing quiet. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just reading,” I lie. “I decided to reread the ‘Silence Of The Lambs’ novels. Have you-” I ramble before she interrupts me.

“Ainsley Ann,” she says in a stern tone I haven't heard since the night I went into labor with Lily and was a blubbering mess. “You cannot keep doing this to yourself. When was the last time he was home for a full day?”

“This last weekend,” I reply, preparing myself for the lecture I’ve heard all too much in the past year.

“And before that?” she retorts.

Staying silent, I continue making the meatballs, then I hear her sigh on the other end. “Honey, you know how much I love you, right?”

“Of course, Mama.”

“Do you realize what is happening in your marriage? He isn’t ever there with you, much less your daughter,” she says with a voice that tells me she doesn’t want to make me angry.

“We’re working on it. Once the research is at a steady incline he’s going to make sure his schedule is more manageable. Trust me, within the next month or two everything will be better.”

“Keep telling yourself that, honey. One day you’ll have to face the truth.”

Shutting my eyes tight I find myself putting down the meatball in my hand and clenching my fists, nails digging into my palms, a habit I’ve had since I was a teenager. “I need to go, Mom,” I say, concealing the dark undertone in my voice.

“Alright honey. I love you,” she replies, choosing not to acknowledge my sudden mood change.

“Love you too.”

Once I’ve hung up the phone I take a few deep breaths before continuing with the meatballs. When they’re done I put them into the pan that’s ready on the stove with olive oil already spread around its surface. Letting them cook, I unlock my phone and scroll through it until I find my photos.

Over the years I’ve kept all of my photos from back in high school, at least all the ones of Declan and I. I miss those days, when I got to see Declan more than I do now. I saw him everyday when school was in session, but we didn’t get to be ourselves with all of our friends around.

As dinner finishes up, I grab my homemade sauce from the pantry and another pot before turning on another burner. I place my phone into my back pocket and continue finishing up to give it my full attention.

Once everything is finished, I hear footsteps behind me and I quickly turn around and come face to face with Declan. “Hello, love,” he smiles, walking towards me.

“Hun, what are you doing here so early?” I ask confused.

“Everyone has things under control at the lab so I decided to come home early.”

Before I can say another word he leans down to kiss me and I get that feeling in my chest again. My hands come up to rest on either side of his face as his arms wrap around my small waist. I get pushed backward and I place my left hand behind me, but I’m burned by the stove top. A scream escapes my lips and I turn around whilst taking my hand from the stove and quickly putting it under the faucet with cold water running.

As I get my hand cooled down I look over my shoulder and find that my love is no longer there. “Damn daydreams,” I groan to myself.

Once the burning sensation has subsided I turn back to the stove and quickly turn all of the burners off. After making his plate, my hand still throbs as I place the food into the microwave so it stays warm. Once the pots and pan are in the sink I grab an ice pack to rest on my hand.

The daydreams didn’t happen every day, but they occurred often enough to be labeled a nuisance. My wishful thinking triggered them, as well as the want for Declan to be home. Even though I wanted time with him, time with Lily was more important. We didn’t want her growing up with one of us never being around.

I grab my phone and go to my contacts, clicking Declan’s contact and calling him. The line is silent for a moment before beginning to ring, and I wait. As it rings I lose hope of him picking up, and I remember to wait 43 seconds for the line to ring before it’ll go to voicemail. Just as I’m about to hang up I hear shuffling and I straighten up, my heart pounding and hoping to hear his voice. “Hey baby doll.”

I sigh a breath of relief and a smile grows on my lips. “Hey baby. How’s work?”

“It’s good, I wish I could be home though,” he replies. “Is Lily asleep already?”

“Yeah, she went down a few hours ago.”

“Alright, do something for me okay?”

“Okay?” I reply confused.

“Get some sleep. Tomorrows Saturday and you’ll be able to sleep in,” he replies with a pleading tone to his voice.

“Are you sure? I want to see you,” I reply.

“And I you baby doll, but you need to get sleep. It isn’t healthy to be up so late every single night just to get up early in the morning. Your body can’t run properly with only five hours of sleep. Please promise me you’ll try and get more sleep from now on, okay?”

Hesitantly I give in and breathe out slowly. “I promise.”

“Thank you. I’ll be home in about an hour. I love you, baby doll.”

“I love you too, love.”

“Good night.”

“Good night,” I reluctantly reply, hanging up the phone after a moment of silence.

Doing as he says I head up the stairs and to bed after shutting off all the lights. Walking passed our bedroom I walk to Lily’s room to check on her. Slowly opening the door I peek my head in and find that she’s sound asleep with her teddy in her arms and her night light still shining. Closing the door I head to the bedroom, and I turn on the lamp beside the door before shutting it behind me.

After washing my makeup off, and brushing my teeth, I strip out of my jeans and climb into bed with just my undergarments, and D’s sweatshirt.

A part of me wants to force myself to stay awake so I can see him, but the other part of me knows good and well that I need sleep. With my mind made up I flip the lights off, pulling the duvet up to my shoulders and I turn over to face his side of the bed.

I’d rather have a temporarily empty side of the bed, rather than an empty one for the rest of my life.

---

It seemed as though he had been kneeling there for a while, but I woke up when I felt someone caressing my cheek. When I opened my eyes it was blurry for a moment before I saw my love’s face in the dark. “Hey,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I woke you,” he offers me an apologetic look.

“It’s okay, love,” I reply with a yawn, beginning to sit up.

“Wait no, just lay there,” he stops me.

“Why?”

“I just wanna look at’cha.”

“Okay,” I reply with a chuckle. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Well, since it is now-,” he pauses to look down at his watch, “-just a little past midnight, I’ve been sitting here for about twenty minutes.”

“Why haven’t you just come to bed to sleep?” I ask confused.

“I don’t know. Maybe I just like to look at’cha,” he smirked before kissing my forehead, then stripping down to just his boxer shorts.

Laying there, I wait to feel the bed dip as he circles the bed to lie behind me. Turning around to face his side, I push the duvet slightly off of me so I don’t get tangled in them. I rest my hand underneath the side of my head when Declan gets in with me and rests his hand on my hip. “I’m sorry these past months have been difficult love,” he says with a sad tone in his voice.

“We knew it was gonna be like this, we just have to adapt to it the best we can,” I reply and reach under the covers to hold his hand.

“I know, but it’s not good,” he says looking straight at my face now. “I can see it in your eyes and you don’t sleep as well anymore. You’re stressing your body out, and I can’t say it’s not my fault, otherwise I would be lying.”

“Hey, I put myself through this so I can make you feel special. I wake up early in the morning so that I can make you your coffee just the way you like it. Then I stay up late so I can make you dinner. It’s just little thin-” I try to make an excuse but his expression turns serious.

“I know you want to make me feel good, and you do. But you’re risking your own health for me. Please don’t do that. Don’t go to such extremes,” he pleads me, his hand coming up to brush my hair out of my face. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“And you’re not going to. No matter what people say,” I pause and decide that I need to shut up before this quality time turns into a fight.

“What do you mean, ‘no matter what people say’?” he asks me, furrowing his eyebrows.

“It doesn’t matter love,” I try to push it off.

“It does matter,” he replies in a softer voice, while his eyes also become soft. “What are people saying?” he asks me in a tone that promises me he won’t get angry with my answer.

There’s a silence that lingers between us as I try to find the right words to say, and how I need to say them. My mouth opens and closes as I find the right words, but decide against them when they come to mind. When I meet his gaze, he makes a realization which shows in his expression; it makes my heart pound with angst. “They’re all saying that I should...” I can’t finish the sentence. “That I should…” I trail off and curse myself for my lack of an ability to speak well enough to get a simple sentence out.

“That you should leave me.”

The words come out of his mouth before they can find their way out of my own. It wasn’t the words that made me feel so horribly guilty, but the way he said them. The thing is, is I don’t have anything to be guilty about. As my worrying increases, his pointer finger and thumb cup my chin and draw my eyes to his. “You aren’t going to, are you?” he says with worry and fear lacing his voice.

“Of course not,” I assure him, leaning up closer to him. “We’re in this together, and we’ll make it work,” I lean up closer to him and kiss his lips softly. “‘Till death do us part’,

remember?”

“Right,” He smiles, breathing a sigh of relief.

There isn’t anything else to say, but only things to do to make up for the wordless conversation that is about to ensue before falling asleep in each other’s arms. Pulling me closer to his bare chest, his cold hands go up underneath his sweatshirt I’m wearing; his hands and arms say, ‘I’m here to protect you and keep you warm through the winter’, while his bare chest says, ‘Rest your head to listen to my heart that beats only for you.’

Leaning down to meet my lips with his own, his minty breath fans my warm face;

‘You leave me breathless.’ Once his lips meet my own, my burned hand comes up to cup his cheek, and my body is overcome with tingles; ‘You bring me to life with your touch, and your kiss.’ He pulls me up so I’m now laying on his chest, our legs entangled beneath the sheets; ‘You’re my other half.’

His teeth tug slightly at my bottom lip, his hand brushing my hair from my face; ‘You’re my everything.’ He nuzzles my nose with his own, a smile gracing his face. Somewhat breathless, he whispers, “Ich liebe dich.” I love you.

“Ich liebe dich auch,” I love you too, I reply, kissing his neck softly and resting my head on his shoulder where I’m rested comfortably in his arms. Our bodies piece together like puzzle pieces, which have been misplaced in the incorrect boxes for a long time and have been put back together.

He kisses my forehead, pulling the covers up to our waists. “Good night, mein liebst.” My love.

“Goodnight, mein liebst.”

~♱~