Chapter 6 - One Night On The Couch
Sophie refused to return to the hospital.
Her temperature was normal.
Her doctor said dizziness could happen after everything her body had endured.
Rachel wanted to stay.
Sophie told her no.
Then Sophie looked at me.
“You can sleep on the couch.”
Rachel’s eyebrows lifted.
I didn’t react.
“I’ve slept in worse places.”
“I remember.”
The words carried more history than either of us wanted to unpack.
Rachel left reluctantly.
Before leaving, she pulled me aside.
“If she calls your name tonight, you answer.”
I met her eyes.
“I will.”
“You already proved that you might not.”
Then she walked out.
I deserved that too.
Sophie went to bed around nine.
I stayed on the couch staring at the ceiling.
At eleven thirty, I heard her vomiting.
I was beside her within seconds.
She was kneeling in the bathroom.
I held her hair away from her face.
“Don’t.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I look awful.”
“You look sick.”
“That’s incredibly romantic.”
“I’m rusty.”
A weak laugh escaped her.
I brought water.
She rinsed her mouth.
Then she sat against the bathtub.
I sat on the floor beside her.
“Why did you cut your hair?”
She touched it.
“It started falling out.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I cried more over my hair than I did over the divorce.”
I looked at her.
“That’s insulting.”
“That was the intention.”
Another small laugh.
Then silence.
Sophie rested her head against the wall.
“Do you remember when you proposed?”
“Rocky Mountain National Park.”
“You dropped the ring.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
“It slipped.”
“Into three inches of mud.”
“That mountain was hostile.”
Her smile faded.
“I was so sure about us.”
“So was I.”
“What happened?”
I could have given a complicated answer.
Grief.
Fear.
Miscommunication.
Deployment.
Trauma.
Instead, I chose the simplest truth.
“I became afraid that loving you meant watching you suffer.”
She turned toward me.
“So you made me suffer alone.”
“Yes.”
The word nearly broke me.
“I thought leaving would stop me from hurting you.”
“And did it?”
“No.”
“What did it do?”
“It gave me somewhere else to hide.”
Sophie looked down.
For once, I didn’t defend myself.
A minute later, she rested her head against my shoulder.
I froze.
“Don’t make this mean something.”
“I won’t.”
“I’m tired.”
“I know.”
We stayed on the bathroom floor until she fell asleep.
I carried her to bed.
As I pulled the blanket over her, she murmured something.
I leaned closer.
“Caleb.”
My chest tightened.
Then she whispered another name.
“Emma.”
I stared at her.
Emma.
The first baby.
May you like
I had never known Sophie had named her too.
And suddenly there were two ghosts in that apartment with us.
