Til Death Do Us Part...

Life with Jon 9

Somehow visiting Robb's grave every week was comforting. She wasn't sure if he was anywhere to listen to her ramblings, but telling him about her day, about her grades, about Jon, about his siblings. It somehow felt right, as if he was still somewhere near, as if this was the perfect way to prevent that she would ever forget about him.

"Is it okay if I come with you today?" Jon stepped out of the car and hid his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Slowly the autumn wind started to get colder and colder and Jon shivered while he hid his chin in his jacket too. "I know you talk to him and such, but..." He paused for a moment. "We can just go there together and then I can leave you alone afterwards?"

Ilva cocked her head and thought about it for a moment. The last couple of weeks it was as if everything concerning Jon had become complicated. She wanted him out of the house, because she was afraid that one day she would do something stupid like kissing him. But at the same time she didn't want him to go anywhere else. She wanted to be a strong and independent woman who didn't need a man, too afraid that if she would rely on someone else like she had done on Robb, she would end up even more broken and damaged. But somehow she couldn't imagine her future and life without Jon in it anymore either. She wanted him to take a few steps back, to give her space, to leave her alone for a while. And she wanted him to wrap his arms around her and hold her while whispering in her ear that one day things would be fine again.

"It's fine." Jon interrupted her thoughts and shrugged. "I'll just wait here until you get back." He smiled at her, but there was something in his smile that showed that he was far from okay with this.

"Jon..." Ilva let out a deep sigh and then she reached out her hand, inviting him to grab it. Reluctantly he placed his hand in hers, allowing her to pull him along towards Robb's grave. "Do you know what my main subject to talk about is?" She swallowed while she stared at the grey stone, at the engraved letters. The tips of her fingers touched the word lover, like she always did. "You, moving on..." She hesitated for a moment. "And most of the time both of them at once."

Ilva waited for Jon to interrupt her, for Jon to say something. But he kept quiet. He kept awfully quiet.

Ilva didn't dare to look at him. Instead she just continued talking as if he was not there, even though she was still holding his hand firmly. "I know that Robb would have wanted me to move on somehow. I'm twenty. I'm much too young to spend the rest of my life missing him and mourning him." Ilva curled her lips up into a slight smile. "Not that I won't do that, because I will. I will always miss him and always mourn him, but I know I can't just put my life on hold."

Jon still didn't say anything. He didn't move. Ilva wasn't even sure if he was still breathing at his point. He was however still holding her hand and he was tightening his grip.

"I went back to college. I made a new friend there and we hang out sometimes to write our essays together, or study in the library or just have a tea in the cafetaria." Ilva bent her head. "I buy more and more books, putting them in front of the ones that used to be his, because I have nowhere else to put them." She bit her lip. "I framed a few pictures he totally hated, because they made him look like a teenager and not like the grown up man he liked to be."

Jon moved a little closer towards her. His body heat warmed her and she could hear him breathing now, faster and heavier than he normally did.

It was weird how normal his presence and his habits had already become to her.

Ilva looked up again, but she still didn't dare to look at him, at Jon. "And of course, I can stay alone for the rest of my life. There is nothing wrong with never getting married, with never falling in love with anyone again, with not starting that family I've always dreamed of." Ilva swallowed. "But Robb wouldn't want me to fight it when it happens. He wouldn't want me to close my heart forever and build a wall around it to prevent anyone from ever breaking it again." Ilva felt a tear rolling down her cheeks. "Not that it would help if I'd do it, because I think it's already too late anyway. And I hate it and it makes me angry and I feel horrible."

Jon stepped closer once more and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It's okay."

"It's not." Ilva shook her head. "It's less than half a year since he died. Less than half a year!" She raised her voice. "It feels like my heart is cheating. It feels like I'm betraying him. It feels like I'm stabbing him in the back with a sharp dagger." Her chest moved up and down rapidly, but she couldn't push away the weight she carried. "But every time I try to do the right thing. Every time I finally gather the courage to tell you that you have to move out again, that you have to leave, that I'm fine again and can live without you..." She tasted the salt of her warm tears and tried to take a few deep breaths. "I can't. I don't want to."

"It's okay." Jon repeated. He had both his hands on her shoulders now and he let his head rest against hers. "You don't have to throw me out of the house for me to keep my distance." Jon paused for a moment. "But, if you ever feel ready to take another step." He breathed in the cold almost winter air. "I'm ready to take that step with you."

"You're not helping." Ilva threw her head in her neck, but the tears kept rolling down her cheeks. "You're absolutely, totally not helping. It would be so much easier if you wouldn't have loved me back. If you were just living with me because I was your brother's fiance and you were worried about me."

"I know." Jon nodded. "And just so you know, that was the reason I moved in with you." He turned his face towards her and Ilva stared back at him, all too aware that she probably looked ridiculous with slime and tears all over her face. "But I stay because of what I feel for you now. I know it's too soon. I know you're not ready for it. I get it and it's okay." Jon shrugged. "But I can't just force myself to stop feeling what I feel." He wiped one of the many tears away. "Just like you can't."

Ilva buried her face in his jacket and while Jon wrapped his arms around her she cried and cried until she had no tears left to cry. And all this time he held her, stroking her back and hair and whispering that same sentence over and over.

"It's okay."