becoming {h.s} | {b2}

CHAPTER FIVE

— CHAPTER FIVE —

november, year one.

Rain patters against the bedroom window. Most of my days are now spent staring longingly out my window; listening to the melodic pitter of the rain and watching the lights of building across the way flicker on and off. When I first moved in, it was a bit off-putting—the consistent noise. The light tapping against the walls and the ceiling became normal for me; soothing, in a sort of way. Cityscape sounds were a new normal for me; one I thought I would have a harder time adjusting to. After several months of adjusting, I've come to listen to the normal sounds of the city just as comforting.

It's getting colder outside. Will wants to shut the windows when we sleep now, but I won't let him. There is something so refreshing about the way that the fresh air makes me feel. I've been very adamant that that is not something else that I plan on losing in light of all of this. At night, Will silently drapes another blanket over the both of us and just continues to hold me closer. As though there are some things that can just be remedied with a physical touch.

"Gracie," Will says as he shrugs into a clean t-shirt. His hair is wet after his shower. "It's almost Thanksgiving."

"That's nice."

I know that there is so much that I have to be grateful for. In spite of everything, I have a warm house. I have friends who try to check in on me. I have a job that is giving me the time and the space that I need. I have a husband who loves me and is doing everything that he can to try and help me through this—as I am doing for him.

Yet at the same time, I must be selfish. Day in and day out I try. I try to hold Will closer and I try to find the motivation to return to life as usual. Yet there is only so much that I can do. I can only drag myself out of bed so many times and force a smile so many times. There is only so much that I can do and I'm wearing myself thing. Maybe once I had a surge of energy, but even that is beginning to fail me. "My mother invited us to her house?"

"No."

"Do you want to do something here?"

"No."

"What—what do you want?" Will asks, clenching his jaw as the exasperation begins to set in. Today is one of the days where it is clear that I am pushing his buttons. But I know that there is only so much that I can do to stop it.

I just pull my blanket up tighter to my chin. "I just want to spend the day with you." I say, rolling over to look at him straight on. Will is concerned about me. I've been relying on him heavily and apparently shutting other people out. Though I've been communicating with some of them via telephone, I know that Will is worried that I am refusing their company; particularly Harry's. Before that would have never been the case. Before I drove Will insane with the amount of company we had; even if he would never admit it.

He looks at me with a look of pleading, "no... no company? No one else?"

My head shakes from side to side. "Just you."

Will mulls the decision over. I can tell that he is weighing the words carefully. He's not necessarily pleased with my answer, but in the same way that he has been since he first brought me home, he is scared to step on my toes. I know that he doesn't want to upset me. He doesn't want to hurt my feelings. He's scared of breaking me, and I know it. "Alright," he agrees, sighing with a sense of dejection, "I'll get some food and make it."

☤☤☤

"Gracie, we have some company." Will says, knocking on the door and pushing it open slightly.