To Love Deeply

Scott opened the bottom drawer of the fridge with his tar-stained hands and pulled out a wet slice of bologna sealed in a ziploc bag. He placed it between two slices of bread he had laid on the white marble countertop and stuffed half of the sandwich into his mouth, ignoring the grime accumulating on the crust. The kitchen light flickered overhead and Jess, wearing a navy blue nightgown, stood in the entryway, arms crossed and leaning against the black walnut trim. She looked at his cheeks full of soggy bread and meat with baggy eyes.

“That light needs replacing.” She told him. Scott swallowed the

remains of the sandwich bite.

“I know. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Jess looked at his fingers, which were dark, moist, and laden with crumbs. Scott put the remains of the sandwich on the counter and wiped his hands on his shirt.

“I made dinner,” she said.

“I know.”

His words lingered in the air for a time.

“Okay.”

Above the light flickered once more. Their silence sucked the life out of the room. Scott used his tongue to push out crumbs from his upper lip. Jess blinked away tears.

“Ruby says she wants to stop by this weekend,” Jess started. “Apparently she still has our gift.”

Scott chuckled. “Okay.”

He rubbed his fingers along the edge of the countertop and began picking at some dry ketchup that had accumulated there the night before. She watched his fingers move back and forth across the surface.

“Michael did really good tonight,” Jess said.

“Did you get a video?”

“Yeah. You should see this little boy standing next to him. I guess he was mad at the teacher, so he was frowning the whole time. It was the cutest thing.”

“I bet.”

Scott picked up the sandwich and took a bite out of the corner. Jess let a tear slide down the bridge of her nose and cheek.

“Do you want to see it?” She asked as she licked up her salty tear.

“I’ll watch it later,” Scott said, mouth full.

“He loved seeing you on FaceTime today.” Jess watched him. He was stagnant, looking at the ground. What Jess believed to be stoicism, Scott felt as regret.

Jess lifted her eyes up to wipe them with her thumb and noticed the light flicker once more. She sniffed lightly.

“How was work, Babe?” Jess said.

“It was fine.”

Unsatisfied, she pressed in.

"Just fine?"

“Yes, Jessie.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s. . .” The seconds elongated. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine hon.”

A heavy breeze pushed the shrub by the window into the glass which produced a faint rattle. Scott looked at Jess, who gave him a smile. The dullness of the lightbulb helped to hide the redness of her cheeks. He returned her smile.

“I’m tired,” she said. “Are you coming to bed?”

“Not yet.”

Jess could feel the tightening in her chest.

“Okay,” she choked out. “I’ll be asleep when you come in, so try not to wake me.”

“I know, Babe.”

Her eyes grew wet again.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The light flickered once more.

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Jess switched off the light and turned the corner. She waited by the pantry behind the wall for a second, listening to her husband. A few seconds later she heard the mumbling of voices from the other room, followed by the groaning of leather and the squeaking of a chair. She wiped away the tears with the tips of her thumbs and walked down the

hallway towards her bedroom, wishing he had asked her to watch TV.