Light in the Dark

by Lindsay Paige

  “Why don’t we pick up, go to my apartment for a bit, and later get Sawyer?”

  FC nods. I help him stand, leave him while he brushes his teeth to throw away the evidence of his drinking, and return to help him walk if he needs it. Maybe we can sober him up relatively quickly so we won’t have to explain anything to his parents. I’ll have to keep a good eye on him from now on too. Now that he’s relapsed, there’s a greater chance he’ll do so again in the following weeks.

  Once we arrive at my new apartment, he barely looks around. He drops onto the couch and falls asleep almost immediately. Feeling pretty exhausted myself since FC was right and I didn’t sleep after I woke up from my nightmare, I go to my bedroom and lie down. I have an appointment with Mr. Tucker again on Monday and I definitely need a session. I’m beyond exhausted, absolutely worn out. The nightmares aren’t going away. Now, FC has had a setback.

  It almost feels like we’re back at square one, waiting for that one far-off day to be happy and have all the major kinks out of our relationship. Why can’t we be happy already? Why is everything so hard with FC? This is supposed to work. My soul aches for us, but seriously for FC. He’s had such a hard time and apparently, I’ve made things harder instead of easier.

  But at least I know we’re both still dedicated and plan to make things work.

  When things finally get to the really good times instead of only moments, I’ll be much happier than I am now. Those are the times I daydream about as I do my best to fall asleep. Times when my anxiety is more manageable. Times when FC can breathe easier and not so easily fall into a relapse. Times when we’re a cohesive family with Sawyer instead of me still being an outsider. Time when we can go two months without incident.

  That’s the dream right now.

  “Idaline,” FC whispers as he cuddles against me. “I feel like shit.”

  “You should,” I reply bluntly. “I was sleeping.”

  “I’m sorry. About everything. I love you so much.”

  I roll over to face him. “I love you too.”

  “You add so much to my life; I don’t know why I’m trying to fuck that up. But after this morning, it was like a trigger to release all those memories I locked away and I couldn’t get rid of them. I’ll get counseling, I promise. I want to be better equipped to deal with whatever comes our way and to make sure I can handle any other negative effects Lila left behind.” He rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes as if it’s too much of a hassle to keep them open.

  “You’re the strongest person I know, FC. If anyone can overcome what happened, it’s you.”

  His smile is small, but it’s great to see it anyway. He kisses me. That one simple act causes me to completely relax. It’s as if he’s confirming what I told him: that everything will be okay. I want to fall into his kiss. Disappear into the heady sensation it gives me. Drown in the feel of his hands running over my body and the weight of him rolling on top of me.

  He whispers he loves me and he doesn’t know what he’d do without me. But I would know that even if he never told me because he shows me with his actions and his touch. I won’t lie, though, when I say it’s nice to hear it. We undress and passion, need, and desire unleashes from within us the moment our bare skin touches one another. Things move so fast and feel deliciously good that it’s almost as if we come to a completely torturous stop when FC slows things down.

  This seems like exactly what we need right now. This deeper connection to remind ourselves how amazing we are together, what we’re fighting for, and exactly how much we love one another. Afterward, when we’re lying naked above the covers, cuddling together with contentment, FC kisses my forehead.

  “I’m hungry. We should probably get Sawyer, too.”

  “Okay.”

  Neither of us make a move to get up, however.

  “I like your apartment,” he says a few moments later.

  “Thanks. I think I like it better than the old one, even before all that happened over there.”

  FC sits up. “I’m glad. I need to see my son, Idaline. Do you want to get ready?”

  There’s no way I’ll say no. We get ready and head for his parents’ house. About halfway there, we realize I don’t have a carseat for Sawyer, but FC says we’ll just borrow the one his mom has. Unfortunately, the moment his dad sees FC, he realizes something has happened. That FC doesn’t look like his normal self. The remnants of his hangover show all over his face and in the way his body moves.

  “What happened?” Rick asks him.

  “Nothing.” FC shrugs him off as he picks up Sawyer who rapidly crawls to him upon hearing the door open.

  His father looks at me and then back to FC. “We aren’t about to tolerate lies now, FC.”

  “I’m fine, Dad. I’ll take care of myself and do what’s necessary to make sure it’s less likely to happen in the future.”

  “You can trust him,” I say since it doesn’t appear he does right now. Smiling, I add, “If you really need to worry, I’ll tell you.” I almost expect to get a look from FC after saying this, but I don’t. He only nods in agreement.

  Rick gives in. He updates FC on how Sawyer was, helps us switch the carseat to my car, and then off we go. We have a nice rest of the day with Sawyer. I hang around for a long time before heading home, just to make sure he’s good and solid. I definitely won’t be around tomorrow when Lila’s parents come to visit Sawyer. I’m not ready for that. I don’t know if I ever will be, but I know for sure that I’m not right now.

  When I go to therapy Monday, the main takeaway is that when I head to my next appointment upon leaving him, I ask for something to help me sleep. I’ll see my new psychiatrist for the first time and Mr. Tucker thinks that I might need something to help me sleep and tackle what he’s calling night terrors. I’m not so sure how I feel about all of this, but I go along with it. We have a pretty good session and he even says that if FC calls to his office and makes an appointment, he’ll get him in to see another therapist who works there.

  I didn’t say this to Mr. Tucker, but sleeping pills scare me. A pill that knocks me out so deeply I’m out like a light and who knows what is going on and what side effects I may endure during that time. My psychiatrist doesn’t even cover the side effects, which may be for the best. I don’t want to know and prematurely freak out. All she tells me is if I notice any major differences or anything that concerns me to call her immediately. That works for me.

  I text FC about the news before I go to work. It should be a good week. As much as it can be with anxiety problems, sleeping issues, and relationship kinks.

  “Every time I see you, you look like shit,” Teddy tells me shortly after I arrive for work. “Is that man of yours keeping you up or is something serious going on?”

  “Just dealing with something personal. Don’t you know it’s not nice to tell me I look terrible first thing when you see me?”

  Teddy nods. “I know, but I can’t count on your boyfriend telling you the truth. You need at least one man in your life being completely honest no matter what.”

  I shake my head at him. “I don’t need honesty.”

  He shrugs and we keep on working. Maybe those sleeping pills won’t be so bad. I can get more sleep and look like I’m not running on fumes. I will be sleeping over at FC’s just until I’m certain I won’t be having any negative side effects. We’re having a date night tonight and honestly, I’m quite excited for it.

  It doesn’t matter what it is or what we do. But a night out sounds like exactly what we need. I work through the day before driving home for a shower and to change clothes. A nap sounds great about now, but that’s not on the to-do list unfortunately. FC arrives shortly after I finish getting ready. His smile is better today, though not lighter.

  He kisses me and then asks about my day as we walk to his car.

  “What are we doing?” I ask.

  “You’ll see.”

  When we pull into the parking lot of a pet store I could not be
more confused. FC simply takes my hand once we’re out of the car and leads me inside. He leads me right to the section where cats are available for adoption.

  “How can anyone have a bad day after petting cats?” he asks me with a mischievous little grin.

  “We aren’t adopting one, are we?” I pet a cute little black cat with wide green eyes.

  FC laughs. “No. I don’t think either of us are in any kind of shape to get a pet right now, but maybe once we move in together.”

  “Would you be very disappointed in me if I said fish are probably all I’ll ever be able to handle?”

  He wraps an arm around my shoulder. “No, love. Not at all. We’re only here for a pick-me-up in the form of cute cats.” He kisses my temple and then teases a tiny white cat by sticking his finger through the gate and letting him attempt to paw at it.

  It’s adorable to watch all the kittens and cats. I actually feel better twenty minutes later when we leave and I hope they all find good forever homes. Next, FC takes us to a bowling alley. Apparently, tonight is all about having fun and not thinking about any problems. That totally works for me. We’re both pretty terrible at bowling, so the winner will be the best of the worst.

  I somehow manage a strike. It’s almost the best feeling in the world. But seeing that in this moment, FC is having just as much fun, that makes it worth the gutter ball I roll on my next turn. We need to make sure we have more nights like tonight. Nights full of more laughter and happiness. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

  The weather slowly warms as Idaline continues to work on the lasting effects of Lila’s death and while I attend counseling. They wanted to send me to Alcoholics Anonymous, but I shut that shit down. That’s not how I want to handle my recovery. One-on-one counseling works great so far and that’s what I plan to stick with for all my issues.

  Idaline sleeps better thanks to her sleeping pills. I’m learning how to squelch my anxieties that Lila planted. Sawyer has met his other set of grandparents and surprisingly, that hasn’t turned into a shit show. They’ve seen him twice so far. They bring a gift each time and they play with him the entire time. They want to meet my parents the next time they come, so that’s on the agenda. They always ask about Idaline, which I think is a good sign, but I don’t know how long it’ll take before Idaline is willing to meet them or vice versa.

  We’re not worrying about it too much right now. Instead, we’re focusing on ourselves and our relationship. For example, tonight’s date night. Sawyer is with Nana, so it’s the two of us at my apartment. We’ve gone out a few times in the past month, but tonight, we’re staying in. I have the perfect date night idea too.

  “Oh, Freeley Clemeth! I’m home!” Idaline sings as she walks in.

  “Don’t start, love,” I warn. “Or I’ll scrap tonight’s plan and you’ll be so disappointed.”

  She stops halfway to the kitchen with a hearty inhale. “It smells like a fair in here.”

  Perfect. “It’s supposed to. Come here and enjoy the feast. We have corn rolled in butter, fried oreos, cotton candy, corn dogs, and chocolate-covered bacon.”

  “I love you,” she replies with wide eyes as she picks up some cotton candy. “Already the best date ever. Thanks, FC.”

  “Welcome.” I sit down next to her and pick up a corn dog. “How was your visit today?” She had both therapy and a visit with her psychiatrist.

  “They think I’m at a point to wean myself off of the sleeping pills. I missed a night here and there and did okay without it, so that should be a good sign. My therapist thinks that if I meet Lila’s parents next time they come down to see Sawyer that maybe it will help me eliminate the guilt I still have. Otherwise, I’m mostly better.”

  Which is fantastic to hear. I can tell she’s doing better because her attitude has improved and she doesn’t seem as if the weight of the world is on her shoulders. Only a portion of it. Her eyes wait expectantly for a response on how my counseling is going since she has shared her bit. But I struggle with sharing.

  For some reason, I find it difficult to talk about my visits like she does. Sometimes, she shares so much detail, and I don’t want to get down to the nitty gritty like that. I don’t want to be a hypocrite and tell her that I won’t be talking about my counseling like she talks about her therapy visits. That’s what it would make me, right? I would be a hypocrite to ask her how she’s doing and then refuse to reply with full, concrete answers in return.

  I’ve talked to my counselor about this, too. Apparently, I now have a fear of confrontation, which sounds crazy to me because I would fire back at Lila at times. So, why am I scared of that with Idaline? My brain makes no sense. But because I’m too worried about her response, I don’t say anything and instead force myself to give an answer that satisfies her but is still within my comfort zone. He says I just need to tell her and that she’ll be fine with it.

  I don’t believe him.

  With a deep breath, I answer, “It’s a process, you know?” She nods. Good sign. “He sometimes tells me I’m a bad patient.” I expect her to laugh, but she frowns. Not a good a sign. Abort! “We’re working on my issues, though.”

  “If you’re a bad patient, then you aren’t doing what he says, FC,” Idaline tells me quietly. “He’s only trying to help.”

  “I know. Whatever I don’t do is because I disagree with him or don’t believe he’s right.”

  Oh, that’s a really bad answer. Idaline stands angrily, the chair nearly tipping backward from the force, and she moves all the way over to the sink. Her hands ball into fists by her sides. My stupid little mind focuses on that more than anything else.

  Can a person ever really, truly, without a doubt know that their spouse won’t turn abusive on them? Sure, I want to say I believe Idaline never would, but how do I know for sure? This paranoia doesn’t want to abandon me, though I desperately wish it would. My counselor says it comes down to trust.

  Well, I trusted Lila.

  Right?

  I know I trust Idaline, but that doesn’t make the paranoia go away. Seeing her fists sends me flashbacking to another pair of fists my body got too familiar with.

  “FC, are you listening to me?” Idaline snaps.

  Blinking, I find her walking closer to me. “Sorry,” I mumble, turning toward the table. “Flare-up. Give me a second.”

  She immediately backs down. Any time I say I’m having a flare-up, she knows a blast from my past has distracted me, sucking me into its black hole, and threatens our existence. Idaline slowly returns to the table and sits.

  “FC, can I point a few things out to you?”

  I lift my head to meet her gaze and she takes that as a yes.

  “You don’t really talk about everything that goes on when it comes to you and your past, which is fine. I don’t mind. But I’m not Lila. You know I’m not. You know that because you let me have a relationship with Sawyer. I wouldn’t be in his life if you had an ounce of serious doubt that I would turn out to be anything like her. You wouldn’t want me around your family and you would distance yourself from me. I don’t understand what’s happening, FC.”

  The despair and concern in her voice kills me. “Me either,” I reply honestly. “I’m fine and then you do one little thing that reminds me of her and I get a rush of flashbacks and paranoia that I’ll be in that same situation.”

  Idaline takes my hand in hers. “Then you need to stop the cycle. When I do whatever it is, remind yourself of who I am, of the facts, and do your best to stay in the present. Maybe tell me what it is I’m doing that is a trigger for you and I can try not to do it anymore.”

  “I’ll work on it some more,” I promise.

  She smiles half-heartedly. “Good. Hand me some of that bacon.”

  And just like that, the serious tone is gone and we’re back to normal. She critiques the food I’ve prepared as if she’s some fair food expert, which she probably could be. Maybe she’ll be happy when she discovers I’ve bought some board games suitable for two peop
le. It’s not fair games, but it’s something else for us to do and have fun with.

  “Sawyer will start daycare soon,” I blurt out. Idaline’s eyes fly to mine. “I shouldn’t ask my parents and Nana to keep watching him every day. The main reason I was always so hesitant was because, though the chances were slim, I was worried about Lila somehow kidnapping him. It’s time now, though. I think it’ll be good for him to be around other kids more and good for my family to free up their days again.”

  “Have you found one you like?” she asks. At least she doesn’t ask if I’m nervous. Because I am.

  “Mom has been putting together a list of some. She’s gone and looked and talked to them, but I’m taking a day off next week to check them out myself and then see what I have to do about getting him in and if it’ll be awhile. There can be waitlists sometimes.”

  “That’s good. Do you want me to go with you?”

  I smile. “You can if you want, but you don’t have to take off to go. You can always take off work for when it’s his first day. I’m sure I’ll need someone to go with me for that.”

  Idaline laughs. “That little boy sure has done a number on you.”

  I smile, thinking of all that’s changed since he entered my life. “Yeah, he’s messing with my manhood.”

  Idaline shakes her head. “He’s made you more of a man, FC,” she replies seriously. “The way you care for him and worry for him and how your emotions are so easily affected because of him? That makes you more of a man than if you were stoic and emotionless.”

  She might have a point. I don’t care either way. My son is more important than my perceived manhood.

  She leans back in her seat and rubs her stomach. “I’m stuffed. What’s next?”

  “Board games.”

  “Not yet,” she says with a shrug. “Let’s watch a movie. And maybe sex after that. Then board games.” She smiles, and I laugh. She has a good plan. That’s exactly what we do, too.