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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - SEAN
Emily was quiet during dinner on Sunday night. I tried to her pull into the conversation, but she only nodded, forcing a fake smile on her face. Tommy and Sarah were oblivious to the change in her attitude, but I couldn’t see anything but her unusual mood.
Everything she said was flat and devoid of emotion. When her eyes met mine, they were darker than I’d ever seen them. Since the day she moved in, Emily had been nothing but happy and joyous. It wasn’t like her to be cloaked in sadness.
After dinner, I did the dishes, still determined to give her an entire day off. She barely protested, quietly thanking me and heading up to bed before the kids even brushed their teeth. She hugged Tommy and Sarah good night, kissing each of them and promising to see them in the morning. Without so much as a glance in my direction, she mounted the stairs and disappeared to the second floor. I was worried, but I couldn’t go after her until the kids were asleep.
I rushed through their bedtime, helping them each bathe quickly and brush their teeth. I tucked them in even faster and then hurried down the hall, knocking softly on Emily’s door. Listening carefully, I could her stir inside the room, but no footsteps came toward me. Instead, she fell silent, and I was left standing outside, waiting.
I knocked again, my worry getting worse by the second. When she didn’t answer, I knew it was time to give up. If she wanted to talk to me, she would. I couldn’t force her without becoming someone I didn’t want to be.
Still, my face was turned down in a frown the rest of the night. Falling asleep alone felt strange. I’d grown used to Emily’s warm body pressing against mine in the night. We’d only been sleeping together for a short time, but already, I was so attached that I couldn’t get comfortable without her.
I told myself I was being ridiculous. One night apart wasn’t the end of the world. I gave Emily the day to herself, and that was what she was doing. Part of me was glad. She deserved to have a break from her duties, but I’d never imagined myself as one of those duties.
I rolled over and buried my face in my pillow. My heart was pounding with concern, and I wanted to march back upstairs and demand she tell me what was wrong. I didn’t. Instead, I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to force my body to sleep.
It didn’t work. I spent the en
tire night tossing and turning, just hoping Emily would be her old self again when the sun came up. When it finally rose outside my window and bright rays seeped through my curtains, I rolled over and admitted defeat. Sleep wasn’t for me tonight, and that was okay. I was already eager to wake up and see Emily.
After a quick shower, I got dressed and hurried into the kitchen. Emily was already there, standing over the stove, making french toast. I smiled and walked over to her, wrapping my arms around her waist and placing a soft kiss on her neck. She smiled back at me but pulled away, shrugging me off gently so she could cook. I frowned but decided to keep pushing forward.
“French toast this morning?” I asked. “You only make that on special occasions.”
Emily shrugged. “I just felt like a little comfort food this morning.”
“Comfort food?” I asked, sensing my opening. “Any reason you’re in need of comfort?”
She shook her head. “No. Just wanted it. Besides, the kids love it.”
“They do,” I said with a nod. “But you know what else is great for comfort?”
“Hmm?” she asked, without turning around to face me.
I sighed and walked over to her, taking her arm and gently spinning her around. Her eyes found mine, and I kissed her softly, barely brushing my lips against hers before she pulled away.
“Sex,” I said bluntly. “Sex is great for comfort.”
She forced a laugh, but I knew it was fake. As she turned back to the stove, I began to think something was really wrong. I watched her closely the rest of the morning, searching her face for some hint about what might be bothering her.
“What’s on the agenda for the day?” I asked.
“I thought I’d take the kids to the park,” Emily said. “That way you can get some writing done.”
“Thank you,” I said, beaming. “That would be amazing.”
“Sure,” Emily said with a shrug. She still couldn’t keep a smile on her face for longer than a second at a time.
When she and the kids left, I tried to redirect my attention. Emily obviously didn’t want to talk about it, so there wasn’t anything for me to do. I couldn’t spend the entire day dwelling on her sadness, even if I wanted to.
Instead, I walked into my study and pulled up my chair. As I sat behind my desk, rereading the outline I’d written, I wondered how to start the book. I finally knew exactly what I wanted to write: a children’s book for kids who were grieving.
Tommy and Sarah were my inspiration. The book would be for them and any other kid who needed a little extra help during such emotional times.
The idea was solid, and it struck a strong chord inside me, but every time I tried to write the actual book, I froze. My writer’s block was stronger than ever this morning, and I thought I knew why. No matter how hard I tried to put Emily out of my mind, I simply couldn’t forget the frown that was on her face all morning. It was burned in my mind, haunting me and distracting me from my work.
I sighed and threw my pen onto the desk, closing my notebook and putting my head in my hands. If I couldn’t even get a first draft done, then I had no hope of ever finishing the book. That thought was enough to make me open the notebook again. I reread my outline for the hundredth time, desperately trying to find my inspiration.
