JUDE
We don't talk, and I think that's okay.
There has never been pressure to be or entertain when with Zein. It makes me feel safe; his presence is a soothing balm in itself.
I hope he knows that I appreciate him. I feel thankful for all that he does for me, even when my throat is clogged up, and no word will come out.
Even when the emotions are just too damn heavy, and if I try to speak up, I will only end up ugly crying.
Now, I glance at him, and he glances back, one hand on the wheel, the other buried in his head, elbow on the window, and gives me a small smile.
Just an uptick of the corner of his lips.
I smile back, look forward, and exhale.
The headache is not too distracting anymore, a dull lull at the back of my head, making my eyes heavy, like I can finally sleep after being unable to for days.
The drive is soothing enough that I think I fall asleep, a few minutes at most, but then I am being woken up. Soft, gentle hands shake my shoulder.
