Michael and Susan

Chapter 3 (Susan): Packing

Copyright © 2024 by GroveltoHEA

At three in the morning -- the clock had just chimed -- Michael came back out into the living room where I was lying on the couch, my head on one of the pillows. Sleep had been impossible, so my mind had been filled with plans for the next few days.

"Honey," he sat on the coffee table across from me. "Come to bed. I don't want you out here, worrying yourself over something that isn't even important."

His voice was trying to coax me, something he'd never really had to work at before. When I first met Michael, I was convinced he could have been a radio announcer with that swoony voice of his. Combined with his dark, good looks, I'd felt weak when he'd turned his attention on me. With the war over, the men had returned to college campuses in droves and Michael had been one of the returning Army veterans. 

He'd walked up beside me as I was walking to class and introduced himself. He'd stayed beside me all the way to class, and I'd noticed his slight limp. I'd later find he'd been shot overseas, sending him home just ahead of the rest of those brave boys, and it would be another year before he lost his limp completely.

Michael had pursued me relentlessly after that day, walking me to my dorm and looking into my eyes deeply every night before he pressed a gentle kiss to my lips.

"You need to hurry and sign in before curfew," he had to say just about every night since we were cutting it close. "Don't want you on restriction. I couldn't stand not being able to see you."

One memorable night, he'd kissed me and then whispered in my ear, "A man could lose his religion with a girl like you."

I wondered now if he'd lost his religion with Linda, too. If he'd been lying to me about how far it had gone with her. If I could ever trust him again. If he even cared how badly he'd hurt me.

"Susan, come to bed."

The frustration in his voice was evident; I'd never defied Michael before in our lives. Of course, I'd never had reason to. He was a good man and a good husband. If you are paying to read this story, it has been stolen from groveltohea and you should go to wattpad where you can read it for free. Michael was generous with the money he gave me each week, never asking for an accounting, he always thanked me for the meals I made him and he was unfailingly tender and sweet with me. He'd also never said a negative word about me not getting pregnant yet.

I was thinking that was a very good thing now, sad as it had made me month after month, year after year. The idea I had forming wouldn't have been possible with a child or children.

Michael leaned over and took my limp hand in his strong one. "Honey, there's no need to become hysterical over this. I put the rock on your finger, no one else's. That means something."

Still not getting a response from me, he pressed a kiss to my palm, something he knew always melted me. 

"We'll go out to lunch today after church, Suze. Spend the day together, just have some fun."

How about...no? Your gesture is too late, you rat fink, and it's prompted by nothing other than guilt rather than a desire to be with me.

"Your hand is so cold, honey. Come to bed. Please."

After another couple of minutes, while he waited for a response he was never going to get, he gently placed my hand back on the sofa. "You're making a mountain out of a molehill, Suze. I've already apologized for lying, so there's not much else I can do. I'm going back to bed, and you can stay down here and sulk if that makes you feel better, but I'm not going to lose any more sleep over this."