I lift her head up into my hands. My fingers line the jaw of her crying face.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
She turns her head quickly and I put my hands back in my lap. There are no words that I can say that will bring her any comfort.
Oh, how I love this sweet, sweet woman. Her voice is gentle and melodic, and her hair falls down past the middle of her back. She may not be a man’s first choice at the bar, but she stole my heart the second I saw her. She was wearing a green dress with brown boots and danced around the bar like she wasn’t bothered one bit that all eyes were on her. I know this because I specifically remember telling my buddy Joe that I was going to marry the dancing girl in the green dress someday.
Now look where we are.
“It’s been three days. C’mon-“
She stretches out on the couch and lays facing the wall, her back to me.
I feel a hint of anger well up inside of me.When is this going to end? We can’t keep going like this… “Okay, well I’m going to go out to the garage and work on the car. I’ll be in to check on you in a bit.” I pause for a second before stepping away, hoping she will move or say something. Anything.
But she doesn’t move and she doesn’t make a sound.
There was a time in my life when this kind of empty silence would fill me with rage, but that was the old me. After the death of my father when I was twenty-one, I came to understand that there are some pains that can only be expressed by shutting down. I watched both my sister and mother go through the same thing. The thing is, it makes the people around you so unsure of what they can do to help you. I know there really isn’t anything anyone can do to stop the pain, but I can’t handle being shut out when my purpose as a husband is to be my wife’s crying shoulder.
I keep one of our wedding pictures hanging above my desk out in the garage. I reach out and touch where our hands meet in the photo.
The best day of my life.
With the most amazing woman I’ve ever known.
What on earth am I going to do to fix this?