Where You Are

Windsor

Birgitta

We walked for about an hour before turning around and heading back to the now empty parking lot at the small church. Jesse told me he was taking the long way home and we sat in relative silence while he drove.

He still seemed like he was in a bit of a state of shock. He told me his nan's death wasn't exactly unexpected, but something like that would rattle anyone. And from what he'd told me, he had been close with his grandmother. I stayed quiet. I wasn't good at small talk, he was the talker of this relationship. I just figured if he wanted to say something, he would.

We picked up some Indian food on the way back, the cold cuts, rolls and tea from lunch earlier were long forgotten, and then changed out of our funeral clothes once we returned to his flat.

'I haven't been sleeping well the last few nights,' he told me not long after we finished eating. 'I think I'm going to bed.'

I wasn't surprised. He'd been stifling yawns for the last hour and a half, was pale and just looked exhausted.

'Do you want me to come with you?' I asked.

'Yes,' he answered without hesitating and cracked a small smile in spite of himself.

'Okay,' I stood and stretched then followed him to his bedroom.

'Do you need anything? Want anything?' I asked as we crawled into his bed, ever conscious of the fact that he had just buried his grandmother. I thought he'd been holding it together fairly well until the moment he, his brothers and cousins placed the coffin into the grave. Then he'd fallen apart and he'd finally cried. He'd wrapped me in a tight hug and gripped my hand tightly until the service was over.

He was quiet as he considered this for a second.

'Can I be the little spoon?' He asked with a strange look on his face.

It took me a minute before I understood what he meant.

'Yeah, definitely,' I told him. 'Turn over.'

He did, shutting the light on his night table off in the process and I scooched over to wrap my arm around his middle. He placed his hand on top of mine and clamped his arm down hard, making sure I wouldn't go anywhere.

'Okay?' I asked quietly.

'Yeah,' he answered. 'Just...'

He let go of my hand and reached back for my knee, then pulled my leg up onto his hips.

'There,' he took my hand again. 'I like being the little spoon sometimes.'

'You can be the little spoon whenever you want,' I told him, pressing a kiss onto his back.

'I like being the big spoon, too,' he added.

I didn't say anything. I wasn't really sure what to say. I had never been one for many words to begin with.

Then his shoulders started to quake and his breathing became a bit shakier. I tightened my grip on him and pressed my face as closely as I could into his back.

He made a big deal sometimes about being strong and manly, I knew it wouldn't help if I pointed out the fact that I knew he was crying. Even though there was nothing wrong with it and I didn't think any less of him. It had been a rotten few days for him, no wonder it was starting to catch up with him. I couldn't imagine losing someone close to me and then having to go through burying them alone, without Jesse.

I rubbed his back gently with my free hand and stayed quiet. He was the chatterbox of the two of us. If he wanted to talk, I had no doubt that he would. After twenty minutes or so of muffled and almost silent sobs, he finally settled and his breathing became slower and more rhythmic. He'd fallen asleep.