Grief

The kettle slowed to a screeching boil.

The couch is very comfy, and it takes two attempts to force myself out of the chair.

She laughed as I puzzled my way out of her tight embrace, before sprinting to the adjoining kitchen. I flick the light on, grab the kettle to serve two cups of tea. Hers with too much sugar and mine with none.

I have it bad, and she knows it too… How crazy is it? Away from her embrace, it feels like a piece of myself is missing.

For two days now, we have locked ourselves away from the world. She was with me, and I was with her.

“Hurry up,” I hear the sweet rasp of her voice over the sound of the television.

“Yeah, I’m coming,”

I hurry both mugs in my hand and rush to fit in where it feels like home. Tea spills; hot over my hands. That phrase ‘mind over matter’ made more sense now than it ever did.

Except — when I enter the room, she is up on her feet in a weird pose: one hand clutching her side with the wig, the other hand stretched toward me.

I place the cup on the table and sit on the couch.

“Come here,”

“Time,” she says

“What?”

“Time. You need to pay to continue.”

“What?”

“Pay to continue this.”

“Sit. I’ll pay later,”

“No. Now!”

I fish my wallet out of my pocket and dish out the bills for another two days.

It’s everything I have, and by the wince on my face, she too knows it.

She collects it and slips it into her brazier. Almost instantly, her stance wavers into a loving one. She puts the red wig on, adjusts her smile, and plops down beside me. It takes a while, but we puzzle up in front of the television. Like it never broke. Like it is forever.

She sighs, and in the way a good husband would understand to inquire. I ask her.

“You alright?”

“It’s none of my business. But you should talk to someone.”

“We are talking, aren’t we?”

“Not like that — ermm like a…”

“Like a what?”

“A — professional, you know. Deal with the loss of,” She points at the framed picture on the wall of the time I went to the theatre with my Anna — With her.

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

I hold her tight and let us merge into one once more.