Saviour

Lydia held her hair back and blew out her small candle. The bedroom was plain and empty, the walls were yellowing and smelled like gardenias and lilies and smoke. She faced the dark head on, slipping her silky nightgown onto her angular body.

She wasn’t sure what time it was, all she knew was that Robert still wasn’t home. She would crawl into bed alone tonight.

This loneliness wasn’t a new feeling to her, but it never got any easier.

Just when she began to think her terrible strange thoughts, she heard the creak and the click of their heavy front door and her heart sped up. It sputtered like a jackrabbit and she was afraid it would give out. Her hands began to shake so she took in three steady breaths, matching Robert’s steps up the stairs.

This was it. She was going to confront him, ask him where the hell he goes when he’s gone.

But the doorknob twisted. Lydia’s eyes opened wide with a sharp intake of air and she snapped them shut, turning on her side and trying to relax her tense body before he stepped in.

She let out her breath slowly, curling and uncurling her toes as he gently sat down on the bed and laid back.

She opened her mouth, ready to spit out the fire she’d created because she just felt so small and sad, but then she heard a sound that made her insides knot like a boa constrictor around her heart and squeeze.

Robert was crying. He wasn’t sobbing, but he sniffled and made awful wet retching noises in the back of his throat that made Lydia close her mouth and keep her back to him. She didn’t want to see his face.

She realized maybe Robert was suffering, too.