His wife was a night owl but only during specific times. They went to bed every night at six. Val woke at eight and returned by one in the morning. Never a moment later.
As newlyweds, Roy had been curious, setting out to investigate her oddity. Pretending to sleep until a few minutes after her warmth left him.
Val was always in the midst of honest work. Writing music, or lyrics, or answering emails. Occasionally Roy interrupted. A “Gotcha!” in case her efforts were a love letter addressed to someone other than him.
His panic was shut down with loving yet frustrated understanding. Eventually, he had all his evidence. The case was closed, and he slept through the night like a normal person.
Restful nights had become a memory. Ones tainted with longing and blighted with sorrow.
He shifted as the shrieks of crying reverberated. Turned to touch a body, to ask for help because he had a zoom meeting at dawn. His hand clenched in the open space of green cotton sheets. A harsh reminder that he had been halved.
Shanice needed something. Fresh diaper, maybe. He glanced at the clock, moving to the side of the bed. Twelve-thirty. Maybe baby girl just wanted one last cry before the final lights out.
Apparently sleep habits were a trait, a DNA sequence and his genes had lost the fight of dominance.
Footsteps creaked down the hall, off beat from aged limping, stopping in front of the door. Codell’s voice was gruff and deep, full of exhaustion. He simply said, “Don’t worry.” Then continued to the nursery. The sounds of shushing drifted into the hall and into the bedroom that hadn’t been changed since Val had been a teenager. Her celebrity posters still littered the walls; scattered CDs echoed a long-gone time.
It was their first night here and Roy felt foreign in the large three-bedroom home he was never allowed to feel welcome in. Val had been a daddy’s girl, sealing the fate of her lovers forever being disliked.
Even now, Roy wasn’t sure being allowed to stay had been for the both of them, or just for the sake of Codell’s only grandbaby.
His father-in-law was distant and quiet, but never cruel. Codell had noticed they were struggling. Half the family income had left with his wife, laid to rest peacefully in a family plot. Codell extended an invitation to stay while reaching out to hold a bundle of eight-months old.
Roy laid down, feeling neglectful but undeniably grateful. Exhaustion pulled him down, curling around him like his wife’s arms used to. As if she were right there, sleeping beside him.