I lift her head up into my hands. My fingers line the jaw of her crying face.
āIām sorry,ā 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 manās 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 wasnāt 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.
āItās been three days. Cāmon-ā
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 canāt keep going like this⦠āOkay, well Iām going to go out to the garage and work on the car. Iāll be in to check on you in a bit.ā I pause for a second before stepping away, hoping she will move or say something. Anything.
But she doesnāt move and she doesnāt 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 isnāt anything anyone can do to stop the pain, but I canāt handle being shut out when my purpose as a husband is to be my wifeās 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 Iāve ever known.
What on earth am I going to do to fix this?