augustus.wife

For the wife of Augustus Reynolds.

He looked down at her and she smiled as she saw him.
He had not seen her in months.

The moments of lucidity came less frequently and he thought they had all but disappeared.

Her eyes clear, she smiled, “I know you.”
He nodded “I know you too.”
“You’re still here.”
“I’ll never leave.”

Before he could finish she had slipped away again.
He sighed.

Walking over to the player he queued up Brahms and pressed play.

He walked back and sat down next to her bed.
Grabbing her hand he decided to tell their story one more time.

He told her they met over 65 years ago when they were kids.
He reminded her that it was she who greeted him.
He told her how he was immediately smitten.

He reminded her that they dated as kids but she broke up with him because he was a fool.
He told her how he never stopped loving her, even as he meandered and she married.

He reminded her that through the years they would communicate infrequently, but just frequently enough to keep his feelings for her alive.
He told her that he never said anything because he was a fool.
He told her of the joy he felt when he finally did.
He reminded her she wasn’t buying it.

He let go of her hand as he got up to get some ice to wet her dry lips.
Walking to the ice bucket he looked over his shoulder and reminded her that their timing was awful and asked her why couldn’t they ever seem to get that right.

He walked back with a cup of ice, picked a cube up and lightly began rubbing her lips.
He reminded her that it was those lips when they finally said, “I love you”, were the last lips he touched. The last lips he desired.

He sat back down, grabbed her hand and told her he loved her.
He reminded her that he always had.

He reminded her of the rough start they had.
He told her how she tried to hate him as he pushed her patience.
He reminded her of how angry she would get and that he understood.
He told her he had waited 30 years he could wait more.
He reminded her that for all his impatience, she had all of his patience.

He told her of the life they eventually built together.
He reminded her of the trips they took.
He showed her photos of the dogs they raised.
He told her she once left him for reasons she would never explain.
He reminded her that he understood and forgave her when she returned.

He told her that she was the one who inspired and drove him.
He reminded her that whatever success he had was only because of her.
He told her he needed her more than anyone or anything.

He screamed at her that he didn’t want her to leave.

He stood up and looked down at her.
She smiled as she turned to him.

Her eyes clear, she smiled, “I know you.”
He nodded “I know you too.”
“You’re still here.”
“I’ll never leave.”