Married After Midnight

The House

    He cried every night. For the last three weeks he filled the silence of the night with endless tears and consistent wailing. It had become a routine to be woken up in the middle of the night by terror-filled screams, to be left alone in the king-size bed, and to stare at the ceiling until the cries became a soundtrack that fuelled nightmares designed by her past. Amara would never admit it but she was starting to miss the warmth of the man who slept beside her every night, and she was starting to miss the silence of night, but she said nothing. The boy was fighting thoughts, memories, and monsters bigger than himself and she was never going to leave her bed and comfort him. She couldn't. Amara had nothing to offer the boy, not love, not comfort, nothing. Each time she rested eyes on him a kind of guilt and remorse bubbled in her soul. She was no parent, neither was Kalon but he got up every night because he understood. Those tears were familiar to him, they were embedded in his memory. Each time that boy jumped out of his sleep crying because the memories of life haunted him like resentful ghosts Kalon saw his own tears flowing from the boy's eyes.

Like every night since that boy showed up at their door with his bag of C4, the crying started. Unlike every night no one comforted him. 5 minutes passed and there was no break, 10 minutes went by and it only grew to a higher octave. 20 minutes went by of straight crying and insanity was starting to seep deep into Amara's brain. She sat up in the bed, eyes barely open and hoped to see Kalon lying beside her but he wasn't there. He was on the other side of the room, dressed in a suit, gun on his hip, cigar between his lips and eyes on a bunch of paper. It was clear he had no intention of going to the bedroom down the hall, but neither did Amara.

She spoke, her tone unamused and dry. "He's crying."

"I can tell."

"You're his comfort he's hoping that you'll show."

Kalon clicked his tongue before he finally turned and faced his wife. His eyes looked drained as if the last four days had no night to him, and yet they held some form of annoyance and hurt. The words he wanted to say formatted on his lips but Kalon didn't say them.

"If I could do something about it I would, I really would, but tonight he's yours."

Those words pulled Amara from the sheets and took the tired from her eyes. "I don't know and don't care where you're going but you comfort him before you leave or take him with you. I have no business with that boy and I already told you to-"

"Enough!" Kalon hissed, his voice was low and yet it rolled like thunder.

Amara didn't speak but she didn't move either. She stood face to face with the man she was forced to call her husband and stared at him with eyes as hard as the ones he gave her.

"This isn't a discussion or a debate. He is not leaving. So if the crying bothers you, you either comfort him or let him cry himself back to sleep in the next few hours. I'll be back by morning."

Before Amara could contest he grabbed her cheeks, pulled her close and kissed her. Contrast to his words and tone the kiss was soft and sweet, filled with emotions his face never showed, then he left.

Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, and hours were starting to feel like time had stopped and this was Amara's hell. Two hours had gone and the boy was still crying. The octaves had varied, going from deafening loud to low whimpers, but regardless of the decibels, he was still crying. His cries were torturous and they were driving Amara insane. It drove her mad that he was crying, drove her crazy that she was losing sleep, and drove her guilt-ridden soul even more insane that he was just down the hall and there was nothing she could do because that boy was as terrifying to her as his dreams were to him.