Chapter 2

*****

On our wedding night, after the guests had left, I sat on the edge of the bed. The warm bedside lamp cast a soft, flickering glow, making my eyes ache.

Ryan was in the bathroom, the sound of water echoing out. I stared at my clasped hands, turning over the words I'd kept bottled up all day in my mind.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, his hair was still damp, and he was dressed in a dark gray set of loungewear.

The collar hung loosely, revealing a faint scar just below his collarbone, a mark he got as a kid from falling out of a tree.

I still remember that day. He scraped his knee, and I ended up crying even harder than he did. With a frown, he told me, "Don't cry. It doesn't even hurt." That was one of the rare times he actually spoke to me first.

"Ryan," I called out.

He paused, probably because I rarely used his name.

After I started deliberately keeping my distance from him, I did my best to avoid running into him. Today was probably the first time in eight years that I had called his name.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice a little hoarse.

I took a deep breath, trying to sound as casual as possible, like I was just talking about something ordinary. "Should we sleep in separate rooms?"

He stiffened.

Only a single floor lamp was on in the bedroom, its dim, yellowish glow making his face hard to make out.

I couldn't really see his expression. I noticed his lips part slightly, then close again, his throat working as he swallowed.

The silence stretched on so long that I began to wonder if he had even heard me.

"I mean," I said with a nervous laugh, twisting the sheets in my hands, "I know you don't like being close to people, and sharing a bed might make you uncomfortable.

"The room next door is empty. I can move in there, so you can feel more comfortable."

He still didn't say anything.

I looked up at him, and in the dim light, I thought I saw something flash in his eyes and then quickly fall back into place, so quickly I almost thought I had imagined it.

There was something off about his expression. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his jaw clenched so tightly as if he were holding something back.

I had never seen Ryan like this before. He was always the kind of person who could stay calm no matter what happened.

"If you don't say anything, I'll just take that as a yes," I said with a smile, getting up to grab the dolphin plushie from beside my pillow.

The dolphin plushie had been with me for years. I never knew where Ryan got it when I was twelve.

It was my birthday. He stopped by my house after school, handed me a gift wrapped so badly, muttered "Happy birthday," and walked off.

When I opened it, I found the dolphin, gray with a white belly and eyes stitched on with black thread, slightly uneven, like it had been handmade.

I always suspected he had made it himself, but I also felt it was unlikely. He didn't seem like the kind of person who would make a stuffed toy.

Either way, that dolphin plushie had been with me for twelve years. I couldn't fall asleep at night unless I was hugging it.

Hugging the dolphin and clutching my pillow, I headed for the door, sneaking a glance at him as I walked past him.

He was still standing there, head bowed, his hair falling over his eyes so I couldn't make out his expression at all.

But I did notice his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He looked like a tree bent low by the wind, standing there, stubborn and unbroken.

I just assumed he was worn out by the wedding, which was indeed exhausting. So I tiptoed out and gently closed the door behind me.

I'd checked out the room next door before. The sheets and blankets were all brand new. I clutched the dolphin close, lay down, and stared at the ceiling.

The soundproofing wasn't great, and I could barely hear a faint noise from Ryan's room, like someone sitting down on the edge of the bed, the springs creaking softly. Then everything went quiet, so quiet it made me uneasy.

I rolled over, buried my face in the dolphin's soft belly, and told myself this was good enough.

I would give him all the space he needed, never make things hard for him, never cause him trouble. I would be the kind of wife who was easy to live with.

That was how it had always been. Whenever he pulled away, I backed off. If he stayed silent, I took it as rejection. I had gotten used to it over the years.

But for some reason, I just couldn't fall asleep that night. Lying there, I kept feeling like Ryan in the next room was still awake as well.