Motorcycle Girl: Book Three

Chapter 15: Sanctuary

Julian went home with my parents last night after I asked them to leave. I bathed the kids and put them to bed, and then I sat around the formal living room until Odeletta came upstairs and went to bed. I moved into the actual living room and slept on the couch. I can't handle being in the same room with her.

The sun is still hidden in the sky when I rouse from a terrible sleep on the couch. I go down into the basement and turn the light on, staring at the bedroom.

There's glass everywhere, shards of wood by the door.

I go around and pick up the big chunks that I can and then go outside and throw them out.

It's only three in the morning but I can't stay asleep.

I slip upstairs, pushing open the door to our bedroom.

She's on my side of the bed, clutching my pillow to her chest.

When I'm sure she's sleeping, I push all the way into the room and shut the door as quietly as I can, tiptoeing to my dresser. I get a pair of jeans and shut the drawer quietly. I hear her shuffling in bed and I freeze.

"Nathan?" She mumbles, half awake. She's so out of it, I doubt she will remember in the morning. "Come cuddle?"

She's asking, not ordering.

I turn around to look at her. She's propped herself up on her elbows.

She's wearing my sweatshirt, my sweatpants, wrapped in my pillow and my favorite blanket.

I can see the moonlight from the sunlight that is open to the bathroom against the wall behind the bed dancing across her face.

It looks like she wasn't sleeping at all. It looks like she was crying.

"Have you slept at all?" I whisper into the darkness.

"I think maybe twenty minutes." She sniffles.

Me too.

"I tried listening to the balcony video to put me to sleep but all it did was make me cry. I-" she cuts off, sitting up in bed. "I'm sorry, Nathan. I-"

"Don't." I whisper. She falls silent.

"Why are you at the dresser? Are you leaving?" She sniffles.

I ignore her and reach up and tug my shirt over my head, walking to the bed in my boxers. I crawl across the mattress. She's still sitting up, so I reach down and tug my sweatshirt off of her. She's not wearing anything beneath it, but I start tugging the hem of my sweats around her waist. I slide those off, and she sits in front of me in her panties.

I lay down, pulling her bare back against my bare chest, my head on the pillow behind hers. She smells like home and a lump fills my throat quickly. She sniffles again, and I feel a tear slip onto the pillow.

"Nathan," she tries again.

"Stop, Odeletta." I whisper. "I can't. I don't want to. You need me to sleep, I need you to sleep. Just-lets sleep."

I feel her whimper softly, but she nods anyways.

I pull her closer to me, closing my eyes.

But I still can't sleep. I'm holding her, but it doesn't feel the same.

It doesn't feel like I'm cuddling my wife, it feels like I'm cuddling my ex wife.

"Nathan." She whispers. "I can't pretend."

I sigh and pull away from her, sitting up.

"Neither can I."

I hand her back her clothes and slip out of bed, walking to the dresser.