Amy padded up to the lamp at her bedside, savoring the cozy embrace of her pajamas as her feet whispered across the carpet. She stepped into the pool of golden light, eyes relaxing in the warm glow that illuminated the covers and headboard, while the rest of the world faded into muted tones and soft shadows. This was the moment she had fought through the week to experience - the moment she could reach inside the shade, turn the little knob until it went "click", and shut it all off. Darkness would embrace her, a void whose comforts were known only to those who had already slain every monster that might be lurking out of sight. Then, she would tuck beneath the sheets, and let the bed envelop her as it stole her consciousness away. After a crisis at work had kept her out of this sanctuary for far too many nights in a row, there was little else she wanted.
A muffled exclamation came through the wall, followed by a soft peal of laughter, reminding her of the one thing she was still missing. David was in the other room, putting in an appearance for both of them at their regular online game night with friends. She had planned to join after taking some time to decompress, but couldn't manage to do anything but stare blankly at her phone until her boyfriend popped out to suggest she go ahead and get some sleep. She missed his touch, especially after such a long week; beneath her fatigue, there was an aching need to reconnect. That would wait until morning, though. Now was the time to rest. She reached out for the lamp, thinking back on all the efforts she'd made to earn this moment. She had been determined to leave nothing for the weekend, staying late at the office even after her boss insisted she head home. Everything was taken care of; there was nothing left to worry about, except--
Amy's arm froze in mid-reach, as her mind grappled with what she'd just remembered. "Heat lamps," she whispered to herself, before groaning in dismay. Amy was an event planner, and she'd spent the past week doing her regular office work at night, while implementing a last-minute venue change for a corporate gathering during the day. The client wanted an outdoor section with a dazzling display of holiday lights, and while they could deliver on the lighting, sourcing enough heat lamps to make the scene enjoyable during December weather had been a challenge. She ended up borrowing some from a friend in the industry, who wouldn't need them until Saturday afternoon. The timing was just right for the friend to pick them up from Amy's apartment in the morning - or would have been, if she'd remembered to retrieve them from the venue after yet another mishap pulled her back to the office.
45 minutes on the road to reach the venue, then eight lamps to wrestle back to her vehicle in the cold, before finally making the trip home. Under normal circumstances, it would be a simple task, but now, it felt like torment. Amy tried to negotiate with herself. She could get up early, and retrieve them before her friend showed up. But that would mean yet another night of abbreviated sleep, and she wasn't even sure they would still be there - the vendors they had hired would also be cleaning up in the early morning, and they might mistake her friend's lamps for their own. She closed her eyes and sighed, savoring the brief taste of darkness behind her eyelids. There was no way around it; she had to make the trip.
She shuffled over to the door, intending to let David know what was going on before she changed and ventured out. As she walked into the living room, she saw him on the couch, laptop in front of him on the coffee table. "Hey," he said, before making a few final clicks and folding down the screen. Turning his eyes to his girlfriend, he smiled briefly at the sight of her looking snug in her pajamas, before concern took over his face upon noticing her expression.
"Is game night over?" she asked, still struggling to keep her eyes open.
"Yeah," he responded, "I was just about to join you. What's wrong?"
She sighed again, head drooping slightly as she announced the final trial of her week-long ordeal:
"Heat lamps."
David blinked, then recalled, "The ones you borrowed from Marissa? Did you forget to bring them back here?"
"Yup," she forced her head back up, and set a resolute course for the closet, pushing her lamentations aside and resuming the week's long march. "Just need to get my coat, then I'm headed out."
"Sweetie?" she heard from behind her as she approached the closet.
"Hmm?" she replied, not certain why her boyfriend had presented her with such a vague inquiry. True, she was tired, but the task had to be completed. Opening the closet door, she furrowed her brow in confusion. Where was her winter coat? Or for that matter, all of their coats?
"You're still in your pajamas, Amy. Also, that's the broom closet."
She blinked twice, then laughed, feeling slightly delirious. "
Well, that was silly
," she thought, as she closed the closet door and turned around. "
Time to actually get my coat, and then --"
her planning came to a halt as she nearly collided with the boyfriend-shaped obstruction that had suddenly appeared in her path. She felt him place steadying hands on her shoulders, and looked up at his face. His expression was one she'd seen before, a touch of amusement, mixed in with clear concern, and a subtle determination.
"I don't think you should be going anywhere, Amy," he stated, "except back to bed." His voice was gentle, but betrayed no uncertainty about his conclusion.
Seeing that she had found herself in a battle of wills, Amy tried to rally her forces, only to realize that half of them were already searching for a white flag. Still, she couldn't just give in.
"I wish I could, but that's not an option. If I leave them until morning, the vendors might pick them up," she protested in rueful tones.
David nodded.
"Sounds like a sensible concern. And you shouldn't be cutting your sleep short, either. I'll get them." He gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. "Eight lamps, right? The ones with red stickers on them?"
Amy struggled to hold on to her resolve. She'd thought this might be coming, and she couldn't deny that part of her had hoped for it. "
For the love of God, just go to bed,"
said the voice of her inner mutiny, "
