No Words
The sun was sinking slowly down the sky, the fiery ball soon seeming to melt into the ocean, colouring the water with pinks and oranges, fingers of hues spreading across the liquid's surface. The small town of Elsinby was too bathed in the glow of the sunset, shadows lengthening as the last blackbird called across the area before returning to its roost. Coloured ochre too were the children being called inside off the road, workers returning to their homes, friends and couples heading out to town for the night. And then there was one couple, cuddled together in their garden. The last of the warming sun's rays had left them. And the cold soon intruded upon their reflective moment.
He felt her shiver. He brushed his fingers down her cheek, loosening his hold on her arm. Reluctantly, she lifted her head from his chest, feeling him start to move away from her. "You must be hungry." She sniffed, wiping away the last of her tears. She rose abruptly then, evading the hand he tried to place on her arm as she walked quickly into the house.
A sigh escaped Gordon but he made no move to follow his wife. The last half an hour had given him a lot to think about. And so it was that he took his time straightening the four chairs around the small white table, the metal interwoven to create an intricate lattice pattern.
He couldn't believe he'd been so ignorant to his wife's feelings. How could he have lived with her every day and not seen what he was doing to her? There had been times in the past eight weeks when he'd stopped himself, recognising his temper, his surliness or his plain coldness. But he hadn't realised, not until half an hour ago, that he'd upset her so much. And now with her news… He had to do something, he had to change, before it was too late.
Jill glanced up from peeling a carrot to see her husband still hovering around the garden chairs, moving them an inch, only to move them back a minute later. Sighing, she drew her gaze away, the pain searing hotter than ever in her chest.
"I love you." He said with such sincerity. "That's one thing you can be absolutely certain of."
She wanted to believe him, she really did. But still, there was some doubt there after everything that had happened. He'd acted so coldly towards her. It had been weeks since she'd felt his gentle touch, he barely ever directed soft words her way.
"Most of all I just need you." He was almost crying; the fear he'd been carrying finally becoming too much.
He was reaching out to her. Yet, up until now she hadn't been able to help him. The only thing that had made him realise what he was doing was the- Inside of her- She slammed her hand on the work surface, she couldn't even allow herself to think of it.
She dropped the knife, cradling her now painful hand to her chest. Allowing her gaze to once more focus on the garden, she saw him, no longer pretending to be straightening the chairs. He merely stood, his head bowed, looking so lost, so forlorn.
At first she'd been angry, about the events of the day, about how he'd so nearly lost a patient through his irresponsible actions. But then he started speaking, and she listened. She heard how he'd tried, so hard, so everyone. But ultimately his ordeal was too much, and he was suffering for it. And then most intense pain flooded her; at the pain Gordon had been going through.
She'd been ignorant to it all. She'd seen only his anger and his distance. She'd know something was wrong yet her efforts had failed. Why hadn't she tried harder? But perhaps more saliently… Why hadn't she managed to connect with her husband?
She lifted her eyes again. A jolt passed through her. Gordon was no longer anywhere in sight.