After Hours

I rolled over in my bed, my feet hot and tangled amongst my sheets. My phone, permanently in my hand after his work hours, woke as I clicked the button. I told myself I just wanted to check the time, but as I sighed inwardly, I knew that I wasn’t even fooling myself anymore.

I let my hand fall limp and my phone bounced across the bed. While I lay physically inactive in my waiting, my thoughts continued an assault on my emotions.

I wondered to myself: if I had known the pain of being in love, would I still have taken the plunge? Even as I asked, I knew it was a moot point. I had, and I was…

I was very in love.

My heart contracted. He was meant to finish work twenty minutes ago, but he still wasn’t home with me. He wasn’t here and I knew our time was limited. I needed to be asleep by midnight or I would be incapable of waking early in the morning, and with his new night hours, it put a strain on us.

If only I knew how to quieten my heart and quieten my emotions. Before I fell in love, I’d never known this much longing or how intensely my heart felt. If only ‘knowing’ meant ‘managing’ – but that was a skill I had yet to learn.

I finally submitted to my restless mind and kicked my feet free of the sheets, my heart racing with anxiety I couldn’t dissolve and anticipation I couldn’t simmer down.

I dragged myself to the bathroom, the cold tiles soothing on my feet as I looked at the mentally deranged woman in the mirror.

Don’t call yourself that, I chided myself - I wasn’t deranged, merely impatient.

I swept my long hair into a ponytail to feel some-what put together and opted for a seat on the couch so that I could turn my head and see the front door when a car drove past to check whether it was his car pulling into the driveway.

I mean, I told myself it was better to watch TV than mindlessly lay in bed, but I only relocated so I could watch the door.

I watched the door intently. I’d never known so many cars to be driving that late at night. It was quarter-to-midnight, and I’d almost strained my neck watching a dozen cars pass the house in my quiet street. None of them pulled into the driveway.

The anxiety in my chest was building. I was desperate to see him, my entire being was screaming for his company. Yet, my mind, strong despite its deep emotional understanding of the world, began to quieten my hope and quieten my anticipation.

He must have got caught working late, again, I thought. He must be too busy to message. Or his phone died. Or he’s not even aware of the time.

Isolated tears tumbled over my cheeks, one and then another. I would have to wait for another day, another night, to see him after hours.

Disheartened thoughts and the fatigue caused by anxiously waiting drifted me to sleep with the TV still on and my heart still thumping inconsistently in my chest.

In the quiet emptiness of sleep, I still waited, my mind unleashing its impatience on my dreams and distorting the world.

It wasn’t until I felt cold hands wrap around my body and I began to sway inside my dream that the tension in my chest eased. I opened leaden eyelids to appreciate the face of the man who guarded my heart.

“You’re late,” I muttered.

“Hey,” he smiled down at me gently, his entire face beaming. “I know. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

“You better be,” I grumbled as he lay me in bed and pulled the sheets up to my chin. “You always keep me waiting.”

“I know, my love. I’m always waiting too.”

“What, on yourself to hurry up?” I complained and he chuckled under his breath, placing a kiss on my forehead.

“Exactly.” He grinned, and despite my half-awake resolve to be upset I couldn’t stop myself from smiling back. “You’re my entire world, both of you are.” He placed a hand on my barely-swollen belly.

“Well, don’t keep us both waiting,” I said, snuggling into the covers more and patting the bed behind me. Never mind I knew I’d be asleep again before he was out of the shower.

He brushed a hand over my hair and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

The entire three-minute exchange had my heart soothed, my mind calmed and my entire body relaxed. It was mere seconds before I fell asleep again, resuming my dreaming without the inner turmoil, rather with steady confidence in my being.

I dreamed of a baby boy with his father’s face, and the same eyes that changed colour with his mood. I dreamed of the cuddles and sweet laughter we would share.

It was so tangible in my mind that my entire heart was swelling with joy.

I had never been a woman of faith, but it was hard to deny faith once my heart found a home for itself in another. It was like every wrong turn had been a right turn for the simple fact it put me in his arms; like every difficult moment had built me to be strong enough, brave enough, to be completely vulnerable with another person.

With the culmination of our love growing in my belly and dreams of a family building in my mind as I slept, I couldn’t deny who was truly keeping us waiting.

Our little baby boy was the one who kept our hearts waiting, waiting for the joy of meeting his gentle soul and holding his delicate hands.

A new world was ahead of us all and never had I experienced such excitement and anticipation for having two people to call my own. So, I would stay up late, after hours every night, just for a chance to taste the new world awaiting us.