Wayward Wolf

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Evelyn

Something's been up with Ray the past few days, ever since Marie went into labor, but I just can't figure out what it is. He isn't any quieter, not that he can get much quieter. There's just this unsettled air about him. Something is bothering him, I can tell. Pressing Ray feels like a bad idea, so instead I'm giving him space and trying not to act any differently. But not knowing is eating me up inside. I can't stand not knowing.

Ray isn't on top of me when I wake, which bums me out because I've gotten used to a few quiet minutes in the morning before we get up. The sun is barely peaking above the horizon and there's heavy clouds in the sky causing the morning light to turn a deep gray. After stretching and groaning, I slide out of bed and wander into the living room. The lights are all off because Ray never turns them on and, sometimes, I wonder if he even knows where the switches are. It makes sense because it's not like he needs them but seeing him sitting on the living room couch bathed in the cold morning light, clutching a mug of coffee in one hand, his face more broody than usual, puts me on edge.

"Good morning," I greet, my voice a little gravely, not at all expecting Ray's reaction.

I figure normally he can hear me moving or smell my scent growing closer, so he knows when I'm in the room, but he must have been too deep in thought because he startles violently, splashing hot coffee down the front of his shirt. He hisses in pain and pulls his shirt soaked in scalding liquid away from his skin as I rush towards him.

"Oh my God, Ray," I say, pulling up the hem of his shirt. "Take it off, quick." As soon as he pulls his shirt over his head, I hurry into the kitchen to soak a rag in cold water and grab the first aid kit I put under the sink. When I get back, Ray's put his mug and shirt on the coffee table so I just sit on his lap and put the first aid kit beside me. Ray grimaces as soon as I place the cold rag on his reddened chest. Once I've cleaned the coffee off and the rag is no longer cold, I pull the burn ointment from the first aid kit. As soon as the cap is off, Ray groans.

"Is that necessary, baby?"

I growl a little in answer. He's been in a funk for days and now I startled him so hard he spilled boiling coffee all over himself. This is the closest to taking care of him and making him feel better I've gotten since this funk started, so I'm using every opportunity. And then we're talking about it whether he wants to or not because I can't stand it anymore. He just raises his hands before placing them on my thighs while I spread the ointment across his poor red and burned chest. Okay, I might've gone a little overboard and spread it down his stomach and up over his collarbones, but once I got my hands on his bare skin, I just couldn't help myself.

After putting away the ointment and wiping my hands on the now warm rag, I cradle his jaw with my fingers and finally ask, "Baby, what is going on? You've been in a weird mood for days and I've never startled you like that before."

Ray bites his lower lip in thought, before growling and scrubbing a hand over his face. I thread my fingers through his dark hair and bring his head down to rest on my shoulder. My poor grumpy pants has obviously been worrying hard about something, and I just want to make it go away. For someone who looks so nonchalant all the time, he sure over thinks a lot.

"Val said something the other day when you were delivering that baby and it got me thinking about what'll happen if you get pregnant," Ray finally answers, his voice slightly muffled.

I try not to overthink his use of the word "if" and instead ask, "What about it?"

"What kind of father would I be, Evelyn?" Ray responds. "I'm blind and the only father figure I had was a piece of shit. How could I take care of our kids when I can barely take care of myself?"