Atlas

Twenty Nine

Atlas

She woke up shivering. 

At 6 am, when his eyes opened, the first thing he noticed was that from a half-opened bedroom door, a sliver of light had peaked in. He got up on his elbows and saw Grace – asleep on the bed.

A memory came to him. Back when they were together, she had complained that the light from the study lamp wouldn't let her sleep.

"Go sleep in your bed then," he had said, switching off the tv and kissing her goodnight. "I still have 5 chapters to finish." He turned another page of his reading assignment.

She had gone to bed, but had woken up later. As she slipped under his blanket, he had woken up. He hugged her body tight. She radiated warmth and he realized there was no place he'd rather be.

Now, he wondered, how inappropriate it would be to do the same. Still, he yearned for her warmth. The feeling of completeness. Content.

He felt so empty his heart physically hurt.

But he got up anyways to check on her. Her fever had gone down.

She got up, showered, and they ate breakfast together.

"You sure you don't want me to take you to the hospital?"

"Yeah, I feel better." She said, stuffing her face with toast. "And you have classes today."

So he made her promise that she would call him if she felt ill, and when she agreed, he did go to class. In fact – that's how the week passed. He checked on her almost everyday. She spent most of her time in bed watching Netflix, or doing chores around the apartment. By the end of the week, she had completely recovered.

Atlas could not think straight. Things were so confusing – he wanted to once again shut down. But he forced himself to go to therapy the next week, praying Dr. Alice was some miracle the Gods had sent him.

"You look like you haven't slept." She said.

"I haven't." he deadpanned, dropping on the couch.

"Insomnia." She read his chart. "Does it usually get this bad?"

"Sometimes." He replied.

"Coffee?"

He raised an eyebrow. The last doctor had just prescribed him sleeping pills. Maybe Dr. Alice wasn't half bad.

"Let me ask you a question, doc. Why do you go by Dr. Alice?"

"Because I earned that degree." She smiled. "Not my husband. Or my father."

"Fair." He was starting to like her. Today, her jet-black hair with white streaks in it fell down her shoulders in erratic curls. Flowery perfume danced around her office.

"So let's start." She announced. "What's on your mind?"

"You'll have to be more specific that that."

"Hm, okay." She frowned. "What's the last thought that crossed your mind before you stepped into my office?"

He didn't even have to think twice.

"Grace." He murmured.

"How is she?"

"She's good. She got quite sick, but she's feeling better now."

"And you two... did you work things out?"

"I don't know." He sighed. It felt weird opening up to someone who wasn't Adrian, but there was something about his therapist that he liked. "She wants to stay friends. And that's more that what I deserve, but it's hard to see her across the room and not touch her."