You're Always You

Chapter Fifty-Seven

David Minett

Beep beep beep.

Y'know, he was really starting to resent that alarm clock.

David smacked it to shut it up, before rolling over and burying his face in his pillow. He didn't want to get up. And, technically, he supposed he didn't have to. He worked nights—if he still worked, after having punched technically his boss in the face—and he had nothing obligating him from getting up except his own morning-person-ness.

Last night, though.

He had...not been expecting that.

But, he wouldn't complain. At all. He'd missed that. More...than he would like to admit out loud, in fact.

Going like three weeks high and dry after a year of trying for a baby was...an adjustment, okay.

After a few moments, however, he knew he was going to get up, to make Lydia breakfast, so he blinked open his bleary eyes and—

....

What.

David sat up in surprise, staring around at the room. The...achingly familiar room. His room. His and Lydia's bedroom. From home.

He was home.

But he didn't even....

Ah he didn't care he was home.

Looking towards his side, his wife slept soundly on her side of the bed, her hair short again, and....Well, he would say naked as he'd left her, but he'd left her naked in both realities so uh....

He was surprised that she was still asleep, to be honest, but that was fine. She didn't need to be up for a little while anyway, and he would leave her be. He kissed her temple lovingly, before jumping out of bed and getting dressed, though...ultimately he decided to just put pajamas back on, because he didn't think he wanted to work today. David called himself out as he was making breakfast, waffles today, because French toast was yesterday.

It was as he was setting the phone down, the landline, his landline, that he heard his wife shouting from their bedroom, which was startling. The man hurriedly turned off the burner, not wanting to start a fire, and returned to the bedroom, where Lydia sat bolt upright in bed, looking like she'd just woken up from the worst nightmare of her life.

Same.

"Baby, what's the matter?" David asked, swiftly returning into the bed to pull her over his lap and hold her close.

Except, she was too choked by sobs to speak.

What the what.

He just waited until she could explain, because there wasn't much else he could do in the way of communication, and just held her, rubbing her back with one hand and her cheek with the other. "It's okay, honey," he murmured, kissing her head. "I'm here. It's okay."

Eventually, though it took a bit of time, she managed to calm down a little. Enough to talk, at least. "....Why am I here?" she cried.

....

"Baby, what do you mean?" David asked, moving her head back from his shoulder slightly to look at her. "You're home. You live here. Are you okay?"

Instead of responding, she just...got swept away by another wave of sobs.

....

David didn't understand, but he'd learned a very long time ago that he didn't need to understand why a woman was crying, just to make her stop. "Hey, you're okay, sweetheart," he continued to soothe her, hugging her against him and rocking gently. "Everything's okay." Not sure...what else to tell her, he just shushed her softly.