The City | GirlxGirl

five ➳

Forest fires run their course. They burn themselves out eventually. Jude had always thought the same about people; becoming and diminishing anger was relatively easy, and short-term. It always had been for her, anyways. A good temper, and a carefree personality enabled her to grow irritated at only the most major of situations, and even then, it didn't take long before she cooled down, and returned to a rational state of mind.

It was different for Thom; she had learned that today. Jude had always depicted him as a carefree, loose soul as well. He'd never so much as raised his voice at her, or at anyone in their combined presence, in eight years.

Even though he had broken the ice in terms of shouting at Jude this afternoon, she believed all it would take for him to settle down was a nice, quiet dinner-no talking about his day, or his work; no talking at all. But even after their stomachs had been filled and plates plates had been cleared, the silence persisted, stretching all the way until Thom rose from the leather couch that sat, ready to be broken in, in their living room.

"I'll come to bed soon," said Jude, staring at Thom's back; his muscles tense under a black t-shirt.

Holding a finger against the page of the novel she had just begun, she closed it slightly, still watching Thom in awe. He marched towards the bedroom, closing the door behind him, without a single word to her.

Hurt was an understatement. Jude had never experienced such behaviour from Thom. Blood coursed through her body rapidly, the drum of her heartbeat loud in her newfound solitude. Her heart strained, feeling as though a piece of it-the piece that had belonged to Thom for so many years-was nearly falling off. It wasn't lost, nor broken. Just dangling by a thread.

The drapes had been pulled tightly shut since Thom came home; always a man who preferred the dark. After several minutes of scanning the words several times on the same page, Jude closed her book, set it on the coffee table, and followed in Thom's heavy footsteps.

She didn't like sleeping alone. Thom had spent so many nights at her house, having snuck inside through the back door. On nights that he couldn't make it over, she barely slept. Her body shivered; afraid of something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. She didn't know what it was about the dark that stirred panic in the depths of her body and mind; all she knew was that when someone slept beside her, and she listened to the sound of their relaxed, repetitive breathing, she felt safer.

So even though Thom and Jude weren't on the best terms-for reason unknown to Jude-she climbed into the left side of their bed, pulled the sheets to her chin, and listened for the monotonous breathing of Thom's slumber.

He stirred lightly beside her. Nothing much-just an adjustment of his arm, or twitch of his leg. It was enough to alert Jude that he was still awake. Rolling over, she peered through the dark, just able to make out the outline of his firm jaw, his lips partly open. Pretending to be asleep.

For a moment, Jude did nothing. She lay still, watching Thom's eyelids flutter. And then she raised her hand, resting her palm on his chest. His eyes still didn't open, although his body jumped. She had startled him. She hadn't meant to.

Almost instinctively, Thom grabbed her hand-a little too tight, which Jude decided was because she had caught him off guard-and shoved it off of his body.

He turned, the bed frame beneath them groaning from his weight. Once again, Jude was left staring at his back, yearning for an explanation for him being so cold.

-

Jude's bare feet sunk into the white carpet of their bedroom. The red on her toenails had chipped, but she'd forgotten to bring the bottle with her from Kenora. Thom had hung the framed photo of the Labrador sea that Jude's father had taken before she was born; from when he and her mother travelled across North America after graduating from college together.