How he still hasn’t looked her in the eye. Not the whole walk back. Not since they reached the safety of the house.
They sit a room’s length apart that may as well be a crater’s worth of space.
She can’t do the one thing she’s imagined since he went missing. Wrap her arms around him, whispering declarations in his ear and promising them a fresh start. She never crafted a plan B or C in all the nights she dreamed of their reunion.
Breaking the silence is a challenge when he may not hear her. She gestures to the spot beside him and he lifts his head enough to give her a nod.
Okay. Good. She can come closer. She doesn’t test it, though, gives him space even while it kills her and sinks down on the mattress at his side.
“Is this better?” she says, gently. “Can you hear me okay here?”
He nods.
Fuck, now that the chance to talk is offered, her tongue ties, and she grows flustered. Why can’t this be as easy as they deserve?
“I’m so glad you came back with me,” she starts, though it instantly feels hollow and inadequate. “I spent so much time thinking about what I’d say when I saw you again, and now that we’re here, I don’t know where to begin.”
She sniffles, having to look away and down at her own hands to gather herself.
“I never stopped looking for you,” she repeats, knowing he may not have heard it the first time. “You probably have questions and I’ll answer all of them, but…I’m just so happy you’re sitting here next to me. I missed you.”
She’s already crying and knows it won’t be the last time. Tears roll off his nose and land on clenched fists in a mirror effort.
Stopping herself from touching him leaves a coil of anxiety in her gut. If they’re relying on her to verbalize her feelings, then they’re both fucked. She could never do that on a good day and after years of self imposed isolation, she’s lost any social skills she crafted before it all went to shit.
“You don’t have to talk. I won’t push you. I won’t touch you unless you tell me it’s okay.”
His reply, spoken to his own lap, throws her. “Tell me something I don’t know about you and couldn’t make up myself.”
She pauses, searching her brain for random facts. “I took a job caring for reindeer at a Christmas fun park in North Carolina after I got out of the army. I only stayed a few weeks. We never talked about it. Have you ever been to Santa’s Magic Mountain?”
He shakes his head.
“Did you have any idea that it was even a thing?”
“No.”
“See, you couldn’t have made that up.”
“You’re really here?” he says, in a heartbreaking way that makes her want to hunt down Silas on the spot and rip his spine straight from his back.
“I’m really here. We’re safe, we’re home now. Please don’t leave again, Wade.”
He’s still stoic, but gives her another nod. It’s enough to ease some stress that he might bolt again.
“Hungry?” She’s so desperate for him to eat that she’d stand on her head to make it happen.
He ate some of the bread she left earlier, but there are still several other things on the plate that lay untouched. Slowly, she moves around him to pick up an apple slice that’s begun to brown at the edges, taking it back to the bed.
If he sees her eating, maybe it’ll help convince him.
“Do you remember when I showed you my stew recipe when we lived at the Person’s house?” she asks. “You said I always made it taste better.”
He doesn’t respond, but he’s eyeing the plate with interest and she just keeps going, talking around a mouthful of apple.
“And that one time you told me how to make microwave nachos?” She smiles. “Gave me all the steps one night out in the backyard while the crickets chirped. It was midnight. Hot in the middle of summer. I went out back to cool off because there wasn’t any AC.”
He reaches for the apple slices with a shaky hand.
