Emotional Support Nap

You had to have a hard conversation with Corbeau today. You’d been putting it off for weeks, hoping the issue would resolve itself, but things just seemed to be getting worse. A distance was growing between you. There had been no fight, no real problem, just some individual stressors and busy schedules. You hadn’t been prioritising each other, and it was starting to show.

Tick… tick… tick… ding.

The elevator door opened in the foyer, and Corbeau’s footsteps echoed into the hallway. His jacket was already half off when he came into view, and as he tossed it onto a chair he threw a glance your way too.

“Hey,” he said. It wasn’t unkind, but it wasn’t really anything.

Corbeau used to greet you warmly, with a smile and a kiss and a question about your day. He would brush your hair back from your face or tangle your fingers in his or find any other excuse to touch you. Today he barely looked at you, turning immediately into the hall and heading… into the bathroom.

Well, you couldn’t really blame him for that.

Still, you felt a lump rise in your throat as the conversation grew closer. What if something else was going on? What if there was more happening on his end of things that you didn’t know about? What if he was pulling away because he wanted to leave you and he just didn’t know—

No. You couldn’t let yourself catastrophize before you talked to him.

When Corbeau came out of the bathroom he had pushed the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows and was pulling his tie loose. As you looked up at him you realized that this was normally a sight that would make you want to put your hands all over him, and now you were almost afraid to touch him.

“What’s wrong?” Corbeau’s eyebrows pulled together, more in confusion than concern. You tried to swallow around the lump still in your throat.

“Corbeau, I…” with a shaky breath, you willed yourself to get the words out, to get this over with. “Are we okay?”

Corbeau froze. His eyes searched your face but otherwise he didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe. For a moment the tension was thick, hanging in the air uncomfortably like a too-humid day. The clock in the hall was back to its mocking, tick-tick-ticking as if to say you’re wasting your time. I should know.

Then Corbeau exhaled. He rubbed a hand over his face and sat down on the couch, leaning his arm on the back as he looked at you. Now that he was closer you could see the shadows of the bags under his eyes, and the redness in them. His hair was just a little messy, like he’d been running his hands through it all day. He looked tired.

“Things have been off, haven’t they?” Corbeau asked gently. You looked down, running your finger over the texture of the couch cushion.

“I don’t think either of us really noticed until we didn’t know when it started,” you said, and Corbeau hummed.

“I kept ignoring it, thinking it would resolve itself,” he said, and you nodded in agreement. “But it hasn’t been that long, has it? A couple weeks, maybe?”

A pang hit your chest, twisting painfully. It had definitely been more than a couple weeks. Your fingers clenched into a fist against the cushion, knuckles going white. You couldn’t speak as you fought back tears, so you just shook your head.

“Longer?” Corbeau asked, his own voice wavering. Swallowing again, you finally looked up and met his eyes, feeling a tear escape and run down your cheek.

“Corbeau,” your voice broke over his name. You couldn’t bring yourself to use any kind of pet name for him right now, and you knew he would notice. “When was the last time you told me you loved me?”

Corbeau’s eyes went wide, and he hesitated for only a second before speaking.

“This morning, before I left for work,” he said, though he didn’t sound confident. “I always tell you I love you before I leave for work.”

You sniffled, shaking your head as a few more tears fell. You wiped your face with your sleeves.

“You always say I love you too after I say I love you,” you explained, watching his face fall and breaking your own heart as you spoke. “But I noticed you hadn’t said it first in a while, so I stopped saying it first just to see, and… that was a week ago.”

You couldn’t bear to look at Corbeau’s broken face anymore, so your eyes returned to the couch cushion, which was growing darker with every tear that fell onto it. You felt Corbeau shift, and his knee came into your line of sight, then you felt his arms wrap around you. He pulled you close, practically crushing you to his chest. 

You tucked your face into his shoulder, and you cried.

“I love you,” Corbeau said, quiet but firm. “I love you so much. I’m so sorry I went so long without telling you. I promise that no matter what, I won’t let there be one more day that I don’t say it, okay?”

You squeezed him tighter for a moment before releasing him from the hug so you could speak. He didn’t let you go far, cradling your face in his hands and brushing the last of your tears away with his thumbs.

“I love you too,” you told him, wrapping your hands gently around his wrists. “I’m sorry I played a stupid game about it instead of just talking to you. I didn’t mean to test you or anything, I just - after that first day I was so sad, and I didn’t want to face it, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” Cobeau said softly. “We’re going to figure this out together. We’re going to do better together.”

You nodded, and he gave you a warm peck on the lips.

“Can we find a weekend to go away soon?” you asked. “Maybe up to the country house?”

“Absolutely,” Corbeau grinned. “I love that idea almost as much as I love you.”

Later, when weekend plans were made and dinner was finished, you were back on the couch with Corbeau. Lying with your head on his chest, he played idly with a strand of your hair while you talked, catching up on how much you missed of each other recently. You smiled at the sound of his heartbeat, his gentle laughter, and the quiet timbre of his voice.