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“I’m okay I guess,” he said.
The crippling emotions that had overwhelmed him the previous night had eased somewhat, but he still didn’t feel quite like himself. He wasn’t even sure what he felt. Anger, sadness, relief, frustration… they’d all mixed up to create a cocktail that was as distressing as it was confusing.
Barry hated that he’d cried for that awful man. But if he had to cry, then he didn’t mind that it was in front of Xolani. She was the one person he trusted with his emotions.
He moved from the island to stand behind her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he said, “Thank you for taking care of me last night.”
“Anytime.” She rinsed her hands then turned around in his arms. She lifted on tippy-toes to touch her lips to his. “I know you’d do the same for me.”
They shared one more kiss before separating to finish cleaning the kitchen. Afterwards, they decided to have the pizza from the previous night as breakfast. It was only then that Barry noticed the time. It was almost ten a.m.
Surprised, he asked, “Aren’t you going to work?”
“I put in for PTO.” She set the pizza box on the coffee-table. “I wanted to spend the day with you. I hope you don’t mind.”
He didn’t even hesitate. “Of course I don’t mind.”
The thought of being alone with his erratic thoughts and emotions wasn’t appealing at all. He’d just end up drinking his liver away. Xolani was a welcome distraction.
They spent the day talking, watching TV, and trying to forget that he was one awful parent short. His mother and siblings called a few times during the day, but Barry didn’t need to deal with it. Xolani picked the calls each time, let them know that they’d called the wrong number, then blocked their numbers immediately after. Eventually, his phone stopped ringing.
Because he’d asked for a one-week leave of absence, Barry didn’t have to go to work the following day. Unfortunately, Xolani didn’t have that luxury. On Friday, she woke up early so she could go to her house and get fresh work clothes. She headed to work from there then came back to his house in the evening.
They spent the weekend together. On Sunday afternoon, they headed to her place to get more clothes so she could commute from his place the following week.
Barry knew that she was doing it all to keep him from being alone, and he appreciated it more than he could put into words. His father’s death had forced his awful childhood memories to the forefront of his thoughts. If he were alone, he would’ve just stewed in those memories. But with Xolani around, he could talk about them and get them off his chest.
She was an excellent listener; neither pitying nor judging. She just let him spill out what bothered him. Every time the emotions caused by those memories overwhelmed him, she was there to soothe him and bring him back to the present.
Day by day, his grief subsided until he felt almost like himself.
On Wednesday while they were having breakfast, she asked, “You’re going to work tomorrow, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” She thought on it for a second then announced, “Then I think I’ll go back to my place tonight.”
“What?” Barry’s heart dropped to his stomach. Before he could even think about it, the question came out, “Why?”
She laughed. “Because that’s where I live, remember?”
He’d forgotten. In the space of a week, he’d gotten so used to having her around that he’d forgotten that his house wasn’t her home too.
He wanted to beg her to stay over for a few more days, but realized that would be unfair. She’d already given him a week. So he forced a smile. “Okay, but we’re spending Saturday together, right?”
She smiled back. “Sure thing.”
Three nights apart wasn’t a big deal, he consoled himself. He could handle it. He’d been living alone since he was twenty-two. Even when in long-term relationships, he’d lived apart from his exes. None had spent more than two consecutive nights at his place. So being without Xolani should be easy, right?
Not right.
It wasn’t easy.
When he came home on Wednesday evening, he realized that she’d changed his world. Without her around, the house felt obnoxiously huge, terribly lonely, and icily cold. Every second of being alone in it was suffocating. He missed Xolani’s voice, her smell, her soothing presence, even her disastrous cooking attempts. He missed her terribly.
Before he knew it, he was packing a bag for himself.
At nine p.m., he knocked on her door.
