Captive - FourTris

Four

JULY 30
11 MONTHS

I'm oddly nervous. Today, I'm unveiling my sculpture, and I desperately want him to see it and finally understand how much I love him. I want him to feel it, to the depth of his soul, like I do.

He is late getting home, and I pace the floors near the window, waiting to see the headlights smear across the wall. When they finally do, I practically jump out of my skin.

I wait near the front door, a soft smile on my lips, as he ascends the stairs, his steel-toed boots pounding on each step. With each footfall, my nerves intensify, until they are nearly buzzing up and down my arms and legs.

"Hey sweetheart," I say, and reach out to kiss him.

"Hi." His voice is gruff and he's barely touched his lips to mine before he's moving past me, like he hasn't even seen me at all.

"I made you something," I say.

"I'm not hungry." He passes down the hall and disappears into the bathroom before I can respond. I stare after him for a moment, the front door still ajar behind me.

I follow him. "It's not food, it's—"

"I got fired, Tris. I'm not in the mood for chit-chat, okay?"

It's hard not to step back at the sound in his voice. There's a dangerous edge to it. An edge that tells me to stay away. Far, far away. If I were smart, I would leave. Right now, before it grows, before it simmers and stews and explodes.

It was bound to happen, of course. He was often so tired he probably didn't work at all. Not on the nights he was up late, helping his mom. Not on the nights he tossed and turned, so tortured by his past he didn't care about the future.

He missed some days. He was late. And yet somehow I didn't see it coming.
Now what? Do I hide the heart? Save it for a better day? It's sitting on the dining room table in all its shimmering glory, under the glow of the chandelier. I don't know where I'd put it even if I wanted to move it. I could toss a sheet over it, maybe. Hope he doesn't notice it.

When I hand that beautiful piece of art to him, I want him to smile. I want to see the impact it has on him as he stares at it, knowing how much I love him.

And none of that will happen if he's in this kind of mood. All those hours and hours of work will be for nothing. I can't let that happen. It has to be for a reason. I have to see the payoff, or the disappointment will just be too much to bear.

I nod to myself and head toward the hallway closet. We must have some spare sheets or something. Or maybe the whole closet is big enough. I could make a little area on a shelf, put it up there where it is safe. It's not much bigger than a basketball, though oddly shaped and far more fragile.

I dig around in the closet, trying to move some towels and boxes, desperate to find enough room for it before Tobias leaves the bathroom. He's not in the mood for a gift. He might react strangely to it. I need to save it for a better day. A better opportunity. A better—

"What is this?"

His voice carries down the hall. He's not in the bathroom at all. He's in the dining room. My heart throws itself around in my chest. It's too late to hide it.

I walk toward him, praying he's happy, praying all those months were for something. When I round the corner and see his face, the nervous rigidity in my limbs melts away.
His face has softened, and his eyes are expressing a gratitude I've never seen before. They shine with it. He walks over to me, wraps his arms around me, and rests his chin on the top of my head. "Thank you. I needed this today. Really needed it."

I nod and rest my cheek against his chest. I can hear his heart beat, calm and rhythmic, and it soothes me until we are both so relaxed we just sort of melt to the floor and keep hugging.

"I love you," he says. "I'll always love you."

"So you like it?" I ask, pulling back to see his eyes. "Yes. I love it. It's beautiful."

I grin. "I'm glad. I've been working on it for months. I collected all the glass myself, from the beach."

"It means so much to me. You have no idea. I'll treasure it always. Just like you."

I smile and hug him again. I've done well. Finally, I've done well.