TILL DEATH DO US PART | JENLISA

TWENTY-FOUR

JENNIE

***

Signs of The Times

August 12th, 2027

(3 years left)

***

It’s our ten year anniversary today.
It’s the first thought in my mind when I open my eyes to the hazy predawn light leaking into our bedroom. I blink at the ceiling, at the blurred shadows that pattern from the trees outside. It still isn’t bright enough to make the image of branches and leaves solidify, so I have no idea why I’m awake. And not just awake, but wide awake.

It drives me crazy because it happens more and more. At least once a week now, I’m up before dawn for no reason. Well, that isn’t necessarily true. I have phantoms of dreams that still linger, but I can’t make them out. The instant I try to focus on what I was envisioning, it’s gone. And the harder I try, the faster they go. It’s infuriating, because not only am I left with this vacant foreboding feeling, but I feel like they are important, that these dreams matter.

They taunt me whether I’m awake or asleep. But I really wish it wasn’t today that I woke up with this gnawing feeling in my stomach and a nervous itch in my bones. I try in vain to force it away as I roll over slowly so I don’t wake Lisa. My eyes map over her, over her sleeping face and the way her lips pull into a smile while she dreams. Watching her now, seeing the peaceful warmth in her face is a salute to no matter how much time passes, she will always be the most beautiful thing in the world to me.

This is where I find my consolation in my early rising and these dreams that liquefy upon waking. It’s stealing these quiet moments where I can watch the sunrise come over her like it’s doing now, and brush a golden glitter to her skin. I gently twist a short strand of her hair around my fingers before raking my nails through the wave of it. It rouses her, and I watch her back lift with a deep breath, before her eyebrows shift and her eyes open. It’s very brief. I can hardly see her irises before she’s asleep again with that same smile.

I trace her lips lightly with my finger, watching her lashes move as she drifts into wakefulness from the motion. I caress her bottom lip with my thumb, until it parts from its partner and her teeth move to nip my digit softly.

“I love you, angel,” I whisper, feeling her mouth quirk a smile against my fingertip.

“I love you.” She kisses my finger softly.
“Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary.”

“What time is it?” She clears her throat.
I glance at the clock over her shoulder. “Ten minutes after six.”

She shifts, opening her arms to draw me in to her, but that nervous tingle returns and I stay where I am. I force a smile, even though she can’t see me. “Come back to sleep with me.”

My smile fades. “I can’t.” I don’t know if she heard me because she’s already fading back into oblivion, I can tell by the way her lips relax and her expression falls neutral. “Give me twenty more minutes then.”

“Okay.” I press a kiss to her forehead, lingering there to breathe her in before rolling from bed. As I leave the bedroom, I look back over my shoulder so I can memorize the image of her poured into the sheets. I open my mouth to say something, to tell her how beautiful she is, but I can’t.
I leave instead.

Once I’m away from Lisa, the feeling is even more pervasive. That nervous jitter sweeps in and makes a mockery of the calm I just found. I busy myself in the kitchen, making coffee, checking the fruit in the bowl on the counter to see if it’s ready to eat.