My Greatest Adventure

Stand By Me

"When the night has come
And the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we'll see
No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand, stand by me..."
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An empty space.

It's the first thing Helen sees when her eyes finally adjust to the impenetrable darkness. Instead of her husband's hulking form lying beside her, there is merely a lonely tangle of sheets occupying the spot where Bob should be. This isn't necessarily a surprise; it's not the first time she has awoken to a half-vacant bed in the past several months. But it's become almost a routine, and Helen is, to say the least, reasonably worried. Usually she leaves Bob to his own devices and eventually lapses back into a slumber, waking the next morning to find herself once again wrapped securely in his warm embrace. But tonight she decides she's finally done letting the matter slide for what she realizes was probably too long of a time to begin with, and she is determined to finally get to the bottom of this.

She stretches her arm to turn on one of the bedside lamps before slipping out from under the covers. After quickly donning her robe, she steps out of the room and makes her way down the hall, her bare feet softly padding against the carpet. When she reaches the top of the kitchen stairs, she spies a hefty figure clad in a plaid robe hunched over in front of the refrigerator, presumably rummaging around for food.

Bob.

Helen carefully descends the staircase as the man in question pulls out a carton of milk and shuts the refrigerator door. He neither sees nor hears his wife entering the room, so she breaks the silence, gently announcing her presence so as not to startle him too much.

"Hey."

Bob spins around in surprise. "Oh!" he exclaims. "Hey, honey. I'm sorry - did I wake you?"

"No, no, I woke up on my own. Just...noticed you were up again and came to see if you were okay."

He offers her a drowsy, half-hearted smile before opening the carton and pouring a bit of milk into a steaming mug of coffee settled on the kitchen island. "I'm fine," he replies with a yawn. "Was just a little hungry. You want some?" He gestures to a small plate of shortbread cookies situated next to his mug.

"I'm okay," Helen responds, hugging her arms around her chest. She pauses. What to say next without potentially upsetting him? She sucks in a small breath. "You've...been getting up a lot lately."

This statement doesn't seem to faze Bob much, as he merely shrugs and lifts the mug to his lips to take a sip. "Haven't been able to stay asleep, I guess."

"Any reason why?"

At that, something - Helen isn't sure what - flashes across Bob's face for a split second before immediately dissipating into a neutral expression.

"I don't know," he murmurs evasively, peering down into his mug as if to purposely avoid her gaze. "Weird habit." He reaches towards the plate and grabs a cookie. "You sure you don't want one?"