In Our Darkness - 8. Chapter 8: Deterioration

It was clear to Elizabeth that her and David were processing their grief in very different ways, but that realization didn’t make matters any easier. They were like two ships passing each other at night.

David’s business partner Tom had been more than understanding of their situation, but without David at the office, things were deteriorating pretty fast. So Elizabeth decided to step in, make herself useful. Yes, they were going through something horrific, but they still needed money. They would be able to get by for a long while, but they had employees depending on them. They couldn’t just abandon everything. Or at least Elizabeth couldn’t.

Their tragedy didn’t change the facts of life. So she immersed herself in work, while David immersed himself in drinking. She didn’t say anything. Who was she to judge the way he decided to grieve? Not only that, but she lost the ability to talk to him. Communication with her husband used to come to her naturally, but now her sentences were clumsy, and questions felt awkward. It’s as if both of them were seeing a new version of the other, and both were ashamed of what it revealed about themselves.

Elizabeth felt ashamed for trying to move on quickly. For trying to forget. For not being as broken as David. And David was ashamed of not being able to get it together. Of wearing his pain on his sleeve and trying to rub it off on everyone he encountered. It made Elizabeth avoid him, she didn’t want his pain to infect her. And for that, she also felt ashamed. She couldn’t be there for her husband in the way he needed her.

Everyday she would come home after work, pick up empty beer bottles, clean up, make dinner, take a shower, go to sleep and do it all over again the next day. He didn’t admonish her for the way she handled grief either. But at times, she could see the resentment briefly flash in his eyes. And each time it felt like a small needle going into her heart. It was like they were two soldiers injured on the battlefield, expect his wounds were external while hers were invisible to the eye.

But she couldn’t spend her entire life crying. People lost kids everyday. Women experienced miscarriages, mothers gave birth to stillborns. Nothing in life was promised. Yes, she was hurting, but she wasn’t going to let it consume her.

When David laid down next to her that night, she scooted up to him and put her hand on his chest. He seemed taken aback by the action, they hadn’t touched in so long.

“You know…we could try again,” she suggested, gently.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“We could try again, for a baby.” She tried to search his face for a reaction. He just kept on staring at the ceiling. She let her hand wonder over his chest, then lower over his still solid abs, then lower playing with the elastic of his boxers. Suddenly his hand stopped hers.

“I don’t want to try again. Not now,” he replied. She felt her cheeks heat up momentarily, and she was glad the lights were off and he couldn’t see the shame on her face.