I expected another night of being his human teddy bear, but was surprised when he rolled over on his side, leaving me a grand view of the dark blue shirt covering his back. He wasn't mad at me. I guess he just wasn't in the mood use me as his own personal living pillow. Oh well, things could be worse.
"Do you want to know what I see when I look into your eyes?" Greg muttered, his voice soft and muffled by the pile of pillows he was resting on.
"What do you see?" I asked carefully, not knowing what sort of mood he was in at the moment. I huddled under the covers and braced myself for some biting sarcastic remark followed by several hours of snoring.
"Do you really want to know?"
"Yes. I told you what I saw. It's only fair that you tell me what you see. So tell me."
"I see a better person than I could ever hope to be. How does that sound?"
"It sounds fine," I said, and knew he actually believed it. Whether it was true or not hardly mattered to him and never would. "But is that all you see?"
"It's all I need to see. I can't see anything else right now because I'm not looking at you. If you want I can make something up."
"You don't have to." I inched my way over there and spooned up behind him. That's why he didn't cuddle with me tonight. He wanted me to cuddle with him. He needed a few kind words and a friendly touch before he could go to sleep. Who was I to say no to that after all the times he had done the same things for me? The memory of him staying with me when I had terrible migraines flashed across my mind. I draped an arm over his waist and pressed a gentle kiss on the back of his neck.
I couldn't help it. I needed to know. "Why didn't you apologize to him when you had the chance?"
"Because he doesn't deserve an apology from me. And he still doesn't. That bastard never will."
"Was it worth it, Greg?"
"No."
Damn right it wasn't. I kept that thought to myself, lest I try and be lulled to sleep by a screaming match. It was another fight for another time. "Are you going to rehab tomorrow?"
"We'll see."
"You told me you would."
"We'll see."
"Greg, you said–"
"Jimmy, don't push it. Save it for tomorrow." He was quiet for about a minute, then he said, "All that stuff you said about my eyes..."
"Yeah, what about it?" I held my breath and waited for his response.
"It was nice."
And it was nicer to hear him say that.
He continued with, "It sounded like you had been thinking about it for a long, long while."
"I've had a long time to think about it," I reminded him.
"Thirteen years is quite a long time to think about such trivial things, even for a hopeless romantic like you."
I've never thought of myself as a hopeless romantic. It made me wonder what other weird things he thought about me. I decided to ask later or he might feel compelled to tell them all and keep me up the rest of the night. Instead I just said, "You told me that you liked it, so it was time well spent."
"Will you think about it for thirteen more years?"
"If you want me to."
"If you don't mind."
"I don't mind at all."
"Thank you, Jimmy."
"You're welcome."
Who knows what goes on inside his head when he's dreaming. Some day I might figure out a way to ask him about it without sound like a complete moron. I could see his eyes moving back and forth under the closed lids. Whatever he was seeing in there must have been pleasant enough; there's a hint of a smile tugging at his mouth, then it faded and he buried his head deeper into the pillow. Maybe he'll see whatever made him almost smile again before the alarm goes off.
I reach over and gently swipe my thumb across his cheek. He twitched and turned his head away from my touch. I don't want to wake him so I had to settle for looking. Let him get a little more sleep. He was going to need it.
Today was the day. No turning back after this. Today we would all see if he could be a better person.