What If Just...

38 Vivian

While I'm getting ready for bed, I get the idea to go to the city, where we went to the museum, on my own tomorrow.

I have some money left from what I borrowed from Grace for Leo's gift, so financially there won't be a problem.

The tickets he returned to me are for a musical, which will take place in a couple of days.
I have to think about that, too.

It's a pity Leo won't be able to go - I've read so many rave reviews!

But now I can enjoy the performance instead of him. Although it would be much better to do it together...

Who should I ask to come with me, Aiden or Grace? They can both be busy...

Thanks to the thoughts flooding my head, I have been on the same page of the book for a long while, rereading the same lines and completely missing the point.

It's about 11.30 pm, and Aiden is still not here.

I search for the bus schedule to know when I need to get up tomorrow - I want to calmly get ready, without hurrying anywhere.

If Aiden doesn't come back as promised, I'll wake up from a nightmare and it's hard to predict when I'll fall asleep again, so it's better to plan getting up a little later than early in the morning.

As soon as I put the phone away and turn off the lamp, I'm immediately enveloped in sleep.

In the middle of the night I feel a sharp smell.

Alcohol.

I open my eyes and see Aiden on the very edge of the bed, sleeping in the same clothes he was wearing tonight, on his back with his hands folded on the stomach.

I sit up to get a better look at him.

Despite the fact that he is probably drunk, sleeping he looks serene, like an angel.

However, it really upsets me he lay down at such a great distance.

Why do I long to be closer to him, and he tends to get further away from me?

I don't fully control my actions when I decide to move closer - some unknown force pushes me with its inescapable hand.

Is there a way to do something without waking him up?

Very unlikely.

The light from the window helps me shamelessly stare at Aiden while he sleeps.

My hand reaches out to his face to straighten a lock of hair that has fallen on his forehead.

I want to touch his lips and run my fingertip over the bridge of his nose, but prudence doesn't allow me to do so.

Soon, without taking any more action, I disappointingly lie down next to the man, trying to be as close as possible, but at the same time not to make contact.

How pathetic I must look from the outside right now. Like a puppy that its owner is angry at for some reason,  wanting to earn forgiveness at any cost, without really even understanding what exactly it's guilty of.

I keep admiring Aiden's profile until I fall asleep again.

***
In the morning, the alarm rings at the scheduled time.

I have to reach across the bed for it, otherwise it will continue annoying with its clanking.

Only after turning off the sound do I notice that there is no one else in the bed except myself.

It turns out that if I hadn't woken up at night, I wouldn't even have seen that Aiden was here.
I would have guessed because of the absence of the nightmare and the rumpled bed on the other half, but I would not have felt his presence physically.