Single
She was cold. She never got used to dressing for the weather because she never had to when he was around. There was always an extra sweater for her just in case. Eventually she didn't even need to ask. But everything was different now.
She bit down on her lip and felt the November wind push through her skirt. She would have to get used to checking the weather before leaving the house. It would take time, but they said she'd learn.
The sun was barely showing over the horizon and she wished that she wasn’t so late. She promised him she would be on time for once. The sun would still be out and they would watch it set together with a fleece blanket as a barrier from the frosted ground and a cup of cocoa split between them. But the blanket wasn’t where she swore she saw it and the cupboard was fresh out of cocoa. It was all wrong.
The iron gate whined as she pushed through with little effort. The first time she visited, it took her 45 minutes to even touch it but in following months it became easier to make the walk up the dirt path. She didn’t even stop to read the stones as she passed; she memorized them all.
The sun dipped below the horizon, switching on the lamps that were staggered along the path, not that she found them necessary. It was as if the path was ingrained in her soul.
Coming up to the top of the small hill, her shoe snagged on a rogue tree limb and she stumbled forward. Her knees hit the cold ground ripping her stockings. She looked up and came face to face with the cold marble plaque.
A single half-wilted white rose lay across the plot, withered petals rolling away as another gust of wind sent them to decorate adjacent graves. She stared at it for a moment as if she were transported to another life.
It was his hand in front of her face.
“You’re not too graceful on your feet, are you?”
She bit down on her lip and felt the November wind push through her skirt. She would have to get used to checking the weather before leaving the house. It would take time, but they said she'd learn.
The sun was barely showing over the horizon and she wished that she wasn’t so late. She promised him she would be on time for once. The sun would still be out and they would watch it set together with a fleece blanket as a barrier from the frosted ground and a cup of cocoa split between them. But the blanket wasn’t where she swore she saw it and the cupboard was fresh out of cocoa. It was all wrong.
The iron gate whined as she pushed through with little effort. The first time she visited, it took her 45 minutes to even touch it but in following months it became easier to make the walk up the dirt path. She didn’t even stop to read the stones as she passed; she memorized them all.
The sun dipped below the horizon, switching on the lamps that were staggered along the path, not that she found them necessary. It was as if the path was ingrained in her soul.
Coming up to the top of the small hill, her shoe snagged on a rogue tree limb and she stumbled forward. Her knees hit the cold ground ripping her stockings. She looked up and came face to face with the cold marble plaque.
Johnathan Demeres
1987-2017
Loving husband, brother, son and friend
A single half-wilted white rose lay across the plot, withered petals rolling away as another gust of wind sent them to decorate adjacent graves. She stared at it for a moment as if she were transported to another life.
It was his hand in front of her face.
“You’re not too graceful on your feet, are you?”
A scowl appeared on her face and she looked at his hand as if it were going to bite her.
“You have a knack for compliments, you know that?” Her irritated words caused him to smile deeper and he wiggled his fingers.
“Just take it.”
She looked at his hand again, waging whether it was worth accepting his help. It wasn’t something she wanted him to get used to. She didn’t need anyone’s help.
He wiggled his fingers once more.
“Or you could just stay down there forever if you wish.” His hand started to recede when she gingerly reached out.
It was big and warm and for a brief moment she wondered if she could get used to grabbing it whenever her feet failed her.
“Up you get.” He tugged her to her feet. “Let’s try and watch out next time.” He wasn’t ridiculing her like she imaged he was itching to do. It was a simple statement delivered with kindness behind his eyes and woven into his laugh lines.
She shook her head. These moments kept sweeping over her in the most unexpected waves, throwing her off balance and threatening to drown her. It would take one slip, one shattered glass, or missing sock and he was there as if he never left, as if they had the conversation a thousand times before, a never-ending loop.
Instead of getting up, she settled on the ground in front of his tombstone. The sun was completely gone. She dug out a small rock wedged in the dirt and rolled through her hands before using it to chip away at the hardened ground in front of her.
“I’m sorry I’m so late,” she whispered, as if she were afraid to wake him or anyone else.
“You didn’t tell me we were out of cocoa. There wasn’t any time to run and grab some before coming. I’ll get it for tomorrow.” She dropped the rock and her fingers moved to trace the etched marble like she used to trace the lines of his face.
“Why did you shave?” Her index finger glided smoothly along the outline of his jaw. She hated when he shaved. There was something rugged about a 5-o-clock shadow that drove her mad.
“I had to for a meeting. It’ll be back to normal in a day or so,” he said, not opening his eyes and snuggling deeper into the pillow.
She loved the way he slept. One arm above his head and the other gently splayed across his bare chest, always inviting her against his body like it would be home if she wanted it to be. She pushed forward and rested her head in the nook of his neck.
“Good morning,” he sighed, kissing the top of her head.
“What time do you have to go in today?” She almost whined. His fingertips drew lazy circles into her shoulder before running up and down the length of her arm.
“Probably too soon.” His fingers traveled to her hip.
She looked up at his face again and met his eyes. Something mischievous glinted in its chocolate depths. She smirked, rolling on top of him.
“Good thing you’re already half undressed then.” She stifled his laugh with her mouth.
A tear slipped through her eyelashes and she batted it away carelessly. It was ridiculous.
“Why can’t I just leave you here? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” She wept. She picked up the sorry rose and threw it to the side.
“This is the worst thing you’ve ever done to me. I’ll never forgive you,” she spat out, getting to her feet. She turned to leave but looked back, tears of rage and anguish fleeing down her face. A shudder ran through her once more and she almost winced in pain.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” She yelled. “What the fuck am I going to do?” She repeated to the skies.
“It was supposed to be forever, goddammit!”
She took one more look at his stone. He was standing there, watching her.
“You’re going to have to do this alone,” he whispered.
“Don’t be so dramatic.” She fought back a smile. He was always so dramatic.
“I’m not joking. Don’t come calling me when you realize I’m not there to save you!” He was doing a terrible job trying to hold back his grin right then.
She rolled her eyes. “You’ll be right behind me.”
The line moved up as the next person took a seat and waited for the green light to push off. She was next. He squeezed her shoulders one last time before it was her turn.
“Ok! Take a seat. Hold onto both sides of your tube. On the green light, push off. I’ll help you. And remember to have fun,” the waterslide instructor smiled encouragingly as she maneuvered her way in. She took one glace behind her shoulder and he gave her a salute.
“Don’t look so scared!” he chimed in, chuckling.
The green light turned on and she flipped him off before pushing forward, his laughter following her down the chute.
Her heart and stomach wrenched as she turned her back on him once more. He was everything, everywhere.
“Don’t look so scared,” he repeated.
“Too late,” she whispered as she walked away.
“You have a knack for compliments, you know that?” Her irritated words caused him to smile deeper and he wiggled his fingers.
“Just take it.”
She looked at his hand again, waging whether it was worth accepting his help. It wasn’t something she wanted him to get used to. She didn’t need anyone’s help.
He wiggled his fingers once more.
“Or you could just stay down there forever if you wish.” His hand started to recede when she gingerly reached out.
It was big and warm and for a brief moment she wondered if she could get used to grabbing it whenever her feet failed her.
“Up you get.” He tugged her to her feet. “Let’s try and watch out next time.” He wasn’t ridiculing her like she imaged he was itching to do. It was a simple statement delivered with kindness behind his eyes and woven into his laugh lines.
She shook her head. These moments kept sweeping over her in the most unexpected waves, throwing her off balance and threatening to drown her. It would take one slip, one shattered glass, or missing sock and he was there as if he never left, as if they had the conversation a thousand times before, a never-ending loop.
Instead of getting up, she settled on the ground in front of his tombstone. The sun was completely gone. She dug out a small rock wedged in the dirt and rolled through her hands before using it to chip away at the hardened ground in front of her.
“I’m sorry I’m so late,” she whispered, as if she were afraid to wake him or anyone else.
“You didn’t tell me we were out of cocoa. There wasn’t any time to run and grab some before coming. I’ll get it for tomorrow.” She dropped the rock and her fingers moved to trace the etched marble like she used to trace the lines of his face.
“Why did you shave?” Her index finger glided smoothly along the outline of his jaw. She hated when he shaved. There was something rugged about a 5-o-clock shadow that drove her mad.
“I had to for a meeting. It’ll be back to normal in a day or so,” he said, not opening his eyes and snuggling deeper into the pillow.
She loved the way he slept. One arm above his head and the other gently splayed across his bare chest, always inviting her against his body like it would be home if she wanted it to be. She pushed forward and rested her head in the nook of his neck.
“Good morning,” he sighed, kissing the top of her head.
“What time do you have to go in today?” She almost whined. His fingertips drew lazy circles into her shoulder before running up and down the length of her arm.
“Probably too soon.” His fingers traveled to her hip.
She looked up at his face again and met his eyes. Something mischievous glinted in its chocolate depths. She smirked, rolling on top of him.
“Good thing you’re already half undressed then.” She stifled his laugh with her mouth.
A tear slipped through her eyelashes and she batted it away carelessly. It was ridiculous.
“Why can’t I just leave you here? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” She wept. She picked up the sorry rose and threw it to the side.
“This is the worst thing you’ve ever done to me. I’ll never forgive you,” she spat out, getting to her feet. She turned to leave but looked back, tears of rage and anguish fleeing down her face. A shudder ran through her once more and she almost winced in pain.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” She yelled. “What the fuck am I going to do?” She repeated to the skies.
“It was supposed to be forever, goddammit!”
She took one more look at his stone. He was standing there, watching her.
“You’re going to have to do this alone,” he whispered.
“Don’t be so dramatic.” She fought back a smile. He was always so dramatic.
“I’m not joking. Don’t come calling me when you realize I’m not there to save you!” He was doing a terrible job trying to hold back his grin right then.
She rolled her eyes. “You’ll be right behind me.”
The line moved up as the next person took a seat and waited for the green light to push off. She was next. He squeezed her shoulders one last time before it was her turn.
“Ok! Take a seat. Hold onto both sides of your tube. On the green light, push off. I’ll help you. And remember to have fun,” the waterslide instructor smiled encouragingly as she maneuvered her way in. She took one glace behind her shoulder and he gave her a salute.
“Don’t look so scared!” he chimed in, chuckling.
The green light turned on and she flipped him off before pushing forward, his laughter following her down the chute.
Her heart and stomach wrenched as she turned her back on him once more. He was everything, everywhere.
“Don’t look so scared,” he repeated.
“Too late,” she whispered as she walked away.
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