Christmas
A Million Times
_____________________
It must be difficult
To be a man in grief.
Since "men don't cry" and "men are strong"
No tears can bring relief.
It must be very difficult
To stand up to the test,
And field the calls and visitors
So she can get some rest.
They always ask if she's all right
And what she's going through.
But seldom take his hand and ask, "My friend, but how are you?"
He hears her crying in the night
And thinks his heart will break.
He dries her tears and comforts her,
But ''stays strong'' for her sake.
It must be very difficult
To start each day anew.
And try to be so very brave -
He lost you too.
* * *
"Mr. Halstead?"
In life, there are certain moments that crystallises, memories that etches into neurones that strung together with all that comes in between - they make up life. They stand out; unforgettable and unforgotten.
The same number have been oh-so utterly persistent for the past five minutes as it continued to ring and ring and ring; nonstop. Call after call after call. And by the fourth call, Jay cursed under his breath before reaching out to grab his phone off the coffee table. He answered, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice for being woken up so early in the morning.
4:23am
"Yea, who's this?"
"You're Erin Halstead's husband."
Then, there is marriage. After a decade or two, the moments have grown together to be one, in a spiderweb so complex it gets harder and harder to differentiate one from the next.
It's a life of separation and sameness all at once, shoes tucked the same way in the closet downstairs, bodies spooned neatly in a sweeping king size. The baby you plan for. The one you don't. The tinkling sounds of laughter, fierce rage of fights and small, sticky fingerprints ruining things you didn't even know you cared about.
He stopped for just a fraction of a second to evaluate that sentence because it sounds so strange to hear it first hand after such a long time. Besides it didn't seem like a question but a statement instead.
Technically speaking, he still is her husband. Until his signs those papers, of course.
She'd be back to Lindsay and he'd be back to being alone.
"Yes." he swiped confusion and sleep from his eyes.
A sinking feeling settles in the pit of his stomach. It's either because of this certain uncertainty or the burrito he had earlier for dinner.
Fumbling to his feet, he looked out the glass door to the balcony, the sky looked to be a wide bruised black-burgundy. The beginnings of a sunrise.
Erin and he used to love waking up early to watch the break of dawn. He smiled, remembering happier times.
"Yes. She's my wife. What's this-"
YOU ARE READING
Christmas
Fiksi PenggemarIn the wake of a terrible travesty, Jay Halstead and Erin Lindsay are forced to drift apart. What is the ultimate betrayal? A strategy they've both mastered. One that took years to perfect; to ignore and to pretend. So they wouldn't have to think or...
