A Dove's Tale

Chapter 186

I wondered sometimes when it would be too much for Chevalier. The nightmares, the panic attacks, the insecurities—he was an exceptional person by all standards, but he was only human, and he didn't get a break anymore. There was no leaving me at my bedroom door for Theresa to handle anything that came up in the night. It was always Chevalier, all the time, and that had to be tiring.

He never gave an indication it bothered him, nothing except an occasional frustrated sigh. But I'd always hated depending on anybody for anything, and I hated even more placing this burden on the man I loved the most.

That was part of the reason I was faithful to read my Bible every morning and attend church every Sunday. Chevalier was not God, and I knew I couldn't rely on him for everything. That and my beliefs were a part of me, as much as Chevalier had become a part of me. My second half.

A half which didn't share the part.

Sometimes, it really hurt. I'd remember reading the Bible with Mother every morning, getting ready on Sundays with her for church, sitting in the pew and sharing looks or whispered words with her during the sermon, and my chest would ache. I couldn't do any of that with Chevalier. He wasn't interested. And I'd known that before we got married, but I hadn't realized how much it would bother me.

So, even though Chevalier rescued Rhodolite Foundation Day and made it amazing, and even though Leon got a hero's welcome at the festival, along with more women throwing themselves at him than usual, and even though Theresa and Jin hit it off in a big way, when Sunday came, I felt lower than I'd felt in a long time.

Because this particular Sunday was also Mother's birthday.

I couldn't muster the strength to get out of bed. My chest felt heavy. I rolled away from Chevalier and curled up on the edge of the bed, as far from him as I could get. The dull throbbing that came whenever I thought about Mother was now a sharp, stabbing pain. I didn't want Chevalier to touch me, and I didn't want to talk about it. I just wanted to be left alone with my misery, left alone to fall asleep and wake up when the day was over.

But I couldn't fall asleep. I lay there in the bright sunlight streaming through the windows, the cheery rays mocking my dismal mood. Squeezing my eyes shut and pulling the blankets up over my head didn't help. Sleep wouldn't take me.

I heard Theresa's knock at the door at the usual time, but I didn't move.

"Ivetta, Theresa is here," Chevalier mumbled.

"I'm not feeling well."

"Ivetta?" The bed shifted as he sat up and scooted toward me. He pulled the blanket down enough to see my face, and he brushed my hair behind my ear, just like Mother used to do when I tried to hide something from her.

A lump rose in my throat.

"What's wrong?"

I stared at the wall across from me and shook my head, blinking the tears back.

"Ivetta, look at me."

I shook my head again. Why wouldn't he just leave me alone?

He lay down behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me flush with him. I remembered Mother's comforting embrace, and the tears slipped free. He nuzzled into my hair and sighed.

"It's your mother's birthday, isn't it?"

I nodded.

"What do you want from me, little dove?"

I swallowed the lump and choked out, "Just leave me alone."

He stiffened. I knew my words stung him, but they were the truth. Everything he did reminded me of everything she had done for me, every area of my life where she should have been there for me. She'd missed my engagement and my wedding, and she'd never see her grandchildren. I'd never be able to ask her for parenting advice or talk to her when Chevalier and I argued. She was gone.