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“No,” she sighs.
“Good. You can lie here with me then.” I’m exhausted. Not because I’ve done anything to wear me out either. Brittany turns onto her side and wedges herself between me and the arm of the chair. I absentmindedly start rubbing her back. It would be perfect if I could just sit here with her forever. I’m ready for bed, but I want to stay up since it’s not too late yet. “Tell me something I don’t know about you yet.”
She thinks about it for a few moments. Her voice is soft when she speaks. “I think that maybe I depend on you too much.” Brittany has said something like this before, but I didn’t really pay attention to it.
“What do you mean?”
She shrugs.
“Complete honesty, Britt,” I remind her.
“Isn’t it self-explanatory?”
“No.”
Once again, I’m making her sigh. There are much better ways to cause that, but that’s a thought for another day.
“When you were moving here and getting settled and didn’t talk to me, I kept wishing you would because I could really use it. It’s crazy to think about how relieved I was to have you back and to know you live here now. I can be at my worst, and I always know you’re there with me to help me out of it. I’ve started wondering what if you weren’t there and it scares me so much that it’ll push me toward an attack. And, on the other hand, I wish you would depend on me too much, too, instead of not enough. It worries me.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t want to make promises I’m not sure I can deliver on and I don’t want to say something for the sake of responding. After a minute or so, I settle on, “I’ve never depended on anyone the way you depend on me, but I’m trying to give that to you.”
“I know,” she whispers.
She yawns and I decide today is over. “Let’s go to bed.”
“Yeah, I’m actually sleepy.”
We head toward my room and soon, we’re lying in bed. One rather quick kiss and our heads hit the pillow. It’s sad when I can’t give her a proper kiss goodnight, but it’s just not happening tonight. Today has been up and down and all around, and I want some sleep.
I wake up to what sounds like a pot crashing onto the floor with a clang, followed by a, “Damn it all to hell!” Tossing the covers aside, I get out of bed and walk to the kitchen. Brittany is standing in the middle, staring at the floor, her hands shaking. There’s an upside-down pan at her feet and eggs scattered about.
“Brittany?” I ask, noticing it’s just before seven in the morning.
She lifts her head, tears in her red, tired eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m going to have to buy you groceries because I keep dropping and spilling stuff. I shouldn’t be trying to fix breakfast because this isn’t even my house. But I was hungry and I couldn’t sleep. I’m sorry. I’ll buy you more food and clean up.” She bends to start picking up the mess, but I walk over, put my hands on her shoulders and make her stand. “I’m sorry, Trace. I’m just tired.” She rests her head on my chest again as I wrap my arms around her. “So, so tired.”
“You didn’t get any sleep?”
“Not even for a sweet, blissful second. I thought the pills were supposed to make me sleep.”
“They are. How about you sit at the table and I’ll make us breakfast.” I take her hand and lead her to the dinner table. She plops into the seat without protest. Once I clean up the eggs, I glance over at Brittany and see her with her arms folded on the table, her head resting on top of them, and she’s sound asleep.
I carefully pick her up and carry her into my bedroom. She’s out completely. If the fire alarm were to go off, I don’t think it would wake her up. For a moment, I debate on if I should leave her alone to sleep or crawl in next to her.
I choose to sleep with her in my arms since it’s still early. We deserve to sleep in.
There’s a moment before you’re fully awake that you become aware of your body. Mine feels trapped while cozy and snug at the same time. A tight grip is holding me in place. My legs feel tangled and something hard is pressing against the top of my head. I open my eyes, only to be met with the view of Trace’s neck. His arms are locked around me and our legs are indeed tangled together. This morning, the only reason I was able to get out of bed was because Trace was lying on his stomach. I squeeze my eyes closed, hoping this morning was just a bad dream.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t.
I snuggle closer to him, smiling when his arms tighten around me. His hand spasms against my back.
“You awake?” he grumbles, his chin moving on top of my head.
“Not if it means getting up.”
He chuckles. “It doesn’t mean that.”
“Then, I guess I’m awake.” I tilt my head back to see him smiling.
