The argument started in the club and ended at the front door of our apartment with a loud slam. I wasn't wrong and you weren't right but no one could tell us anything. So I slept on the couch and you took our bed.
Less than an hour after we went to "bed", I couldn't lie there any longer and shuffled to the bedroom door quietly. I pressed my ear to the door and heard nothing. I didn't hear you crying, signaling that you were awake. And I didn't hear your rhythmic breathing, letting me know you were sleeping. My grand plan of rushing in, making you see my point, and fixing things was abandoned with a mournful sigh, a palm pressed against the closed door, and the first of a thousand tears. If I'd listened close enough, I'd have heard your heart screaming, "No! Don't give up so easily! She's crying in her dreams! The beer made her sleep but she wants to fix it! Come back!" But I took a sleeping pill and stretched back out on the couch.
A couple of hours later, you pulled the bedroom door open slowly and crept down the hall wiping the tears from your cheeks. Peeking around the corner, you expected to see me sitting up reading or writing. You didn't expect me to be sleeping. For a moment, a flame of anger licked its way up your spine, but your heart, which had disturbed your sleep and kept you awake for the last half hour, said, "No. Stop being hasty. See the bottle on the table? She had to take a pill to sleep. Stop thinking she doesn't love you. Fix it in the morning." You were tempted to whisper your apology to the air and just hope the wind carries it to the parts of me that need to hear it. But you knew that would be cheating. With a sigh, you turned and went back to bed.
~~~
"Should I leave the pillow and blanket on the couch or can I sleep in our bed tonight?"
You turned to face me and swallowed hard. I looked like hell and you felt instantly guilty. Your jaw clenched and I thought you might cry.
You swallowed hard, "I don't know about you, but a hug would be miraculous right about now."
It wasn't much, but I knew what it meant. Covering the distance between us a little too eagerly, I slipped my arms around you and held you close.
Your arms went around my neck and we both swallowed tears, but you spoke first in the tiniest, softest whisper, "I'm sorry."
"I love you." I pulled back just a bit and kissed your neck, "I love you." My lips moved to your jaw, "I love you." And when I kissed your lips, you melted. There was no anger or pain or resentment when I broke the kiss and whispered, "I love you."
Breaking just a bit, you covered my face and lips in tiny kisses, tingling with relief that the fight was over, "I love you too. And I'm madly in love with you."
Taking your hands with my own, I whispered in your ear, "Tell me you love me again."
