Pillow Talk

“How can you turn the AC on now?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s sooo cold,” she curled inwards to face the other side of the bed, wrapping the duvet around her body. The bed rustled behind her then, and she felt his weight leaving the bed. “What are you doing?” She flung the duvet open, biting down a shocked gasp as the cold wind hits her.

“I’m switching it back to heater,” he calmly said, poking the buttons on the setting.

She stared at him, long and hard. A frown was forming quickly, but he was not looking at her to see the brewing storm. Instead, he strode back towards his side of the bed, grabbed his journal, and started writing his end-of-the-day reflections.

“Why?” Her voice was flat, more cautious than curious.

He didn’t bother to lift his eyes and face her when his response came in his usual questioning hum.

So she kept silent and watched him jot down his day. She wondered what lies beneath those pages, what stories they see that she would never discover. She wondered, what would it be like if she was the book and that pen was his lips. She wondered if this is more and she stopped herself, shaking her head.

“What happened?” Not ‘are you okay’, never that question. It’s part of the deal, no dilly-dallies – if something is wrong, then figure out what is wrong and get a solution. Quick, easy, and simple.

“Mae?”

“Why. I asked ‘why?’,” she said.

He returned to his journal then, a quick sentence before closing it down and setting it on his side table. “Okay, let’s talk. Why what?”

She gulped. That’s business Shane, that’s his serious face. “Why always yes?” She willed her face to remain neutral.

His brows curled in confusion. Cute, but still scary all the same. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you always agree with me?”

“Is this about the heater? I don’t mind it, Mae. I can just sleep without the duvet if I feel too hot. You know it’s not a big deal.”

“No, not just the heater. This duvet,” she pointed, she was the one who insisted on a duvet instead of a blanket. “This bolster,” he sleeps with no bolsters, mentioning that it takes up his sleeping space. “This lamplight,” he prefers white light as he might need it for late night readings, but she asked for yellow as it gives warmth. “This place,” this time her voice came as a whisper. She was the one who cried homesick. She was the one who dragged him here. She was always the source of his trouble. “All this time you just never see eye to eye with me, don’t you?”

His frown deepened. “What-“

“What do you see me as, Shane? Your sister, your kid? Cause I’m pretty sure I’m never your equal,” Neutral. No accusing tone, laden with curiosity, but neutral. Stay neutral.

“Where is this coming from? I thought we agreed on no complications,” he switched his side lights off and leaned over to her side to turn hers off.

“Later,” She caught his hand midway.

“Okay,” He shrugged as he sunk back into his pillow. “Oh, am I not supposed to be okay with that?” His eyes shone, was he trying to be playful?

“No, Shane,” her thoughts came in a flurry of jumbled words. A cat had been playing around with her line of thought, messing the threads of her mind. “I know,” she sighed, “I know we have a deal. We live on with our lives like nothing happened, like marriage is a school we have to attend and later graduate. No complications, I support you and you support me, but no complications. Yes, I know. But I want to grow, Shane.”

He watches her intently. Calculating, that’s his analyzing look. Good, he’s taking her seriously now.

“I want to experience the ups and downs, the lows and highs. Argue not for the sake of winning arguments, but to learn another perspective. Disagree not to triumph as the best, but to learn about tolerance. Fight not to leave as a winner, but to learn new ways,” She paused. “Okay, that sounds way too cheesy. But you get my point, don’t you?”

She’s never been a best friend of silence. He knew that; he could see the words forming behind her mouth. But he also knew that her mind is the loudest. “Yes,” He brought her back to the present. “You’re overthinking things again,” She didn’t realize when he started scooting closer to her side of the bed until he tapped her forehead. “I agreed already. Don’t think too much into it.”

She paused, astonished that he actually noticed. “I’m sorry. I know you hate the city.”

He took a deep breath. “I do prefer to separate work and home,” he said.

“Yet you agreed,” she probed, waiting for the explanation that never came.

“Because we’re in this together,” he looked at her.

“I lived here for 4 years,” she sighed as she leaned back into her pillow as well. “Alone in the city, blindly scrambling around, trying to get my bearings. All my life, I’ve always been dependent, you know? This is where I really grew, when I was finally on my own.”

“Yes.”

“And I don’t want to stop here. I want to keep growing, but I want to do it here.”

“Yes.”

She flipped around to lie on her stomach and tilted her head to look at him. “I know, no complications. But I still want us to grow. I want to feel everything, Shane. I want to feel that resolution from a fight to emerge stronger. The allegro and the andante, the crescendo and decrescendo-“ She flushed, “Sorry, I know, too poetic.”

“I don’t speak-“

“Italian, yeah, no you don’t-“

“No, I don’t speak-“

“Music!” Her hands were flailing around in an effort to exert all of her nervous energy. “Yes, I’m sorry for side-tracking the conversa-“

“Maeve,” He caught her hands, slowly lowering them to the mattress. “I don’t speak ‘heart’.”

She was drowning into those dark brown pools of his. Lost, lost, lost, calm. “Yes, I know.” She sighed. Yes, yes she knew. The deal above all else. For the deal is the foundation and if the foundation is broken, then there is nothing. “Good night, Shane,” She turned to turn the lights off and curled to her side of the bed.

With a restless mind, five minutes isn’t enough to whisk her away to the realms of sleep. So when he mumbled behind her, she caught every single word that came out of his lips.

“I just don’t want to lose you; us.”