Three Days Too Long

(Sunday morning. Her suitcase is by the door.)

Her: (Checking her bag for the third time.) Okay. I think I have everything.

Me: (Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.) You sure you need to go?

Her: (Smiling sadly.) It's just a week. My mom's been asking for months.

Me: A week is a long time.

Her: (Walking over, putting her hands on my chest.) I know. But you have work. You can't just drop everything.

Me: (Covering her hands with mine.) I'd drop everything for you.

Her: (Kissing me softly.) I know you would. That's why I love you.

Me: (Pulling her closer.) Stay.

Her: (Laughing, but her eyes are sad.) You know I can't. But I'll call you every day. I promise.

Me: (Trying to smile.) Every day?

Her: (Nodding.) Morning and night. You won't even notice I'm gone.

Me: (Quietly.) I'll notice.

(A car horn honks outside. Her ride to the airport.)

Her: (Pulling away reluctantly.) That's me.

Me: (Grabbing her hand.) I love you.

Her: (Eyes getting watery.) I love you too. So much.

Me: (Kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips.) Come back soon.

Her: (Whispering.) One week. I promise.

(She picks up her suitcase. Walks to the door. Turns back one more time.)

Her: Take care of yourself, okay?

Me: (Nodding.) You too.

(And then she's gone. The door closes. The house is already too quiet.)

Day 1 - Sunday Evening Texts

Her: [photo of her childhood bedroom] Made it safe. Miss you already.

Me: Miss you too. House is too quiet without you.

Her: Don't get too comfortable sleeping in the middle of the bed.

Me: No promises.

Her: 😊 Love you.

Me: Love you more.

Day 1 - Sunday Night, 11:47 PM

(I'm lying in bed. On my side. Her side is empty and cold.)

(I reach over. Grab her pillow. It still smells like her shampoo.)

(My phone buzzes.)

Her: Can't sleep. You awake?

Me: Yeah. Can't sleep either.

Her: The bed here is so small. And it doesn't smell like you.

Me: Want me to mail you one of my shirts?

Her: Don't tempt me. I might actually ask you to.

Me: I would. You know I would.

Her: I know. That's why I love you.

Me: Go to sleep, baby. I'll call you in the morning.

Her: Okay. Goodnight. I love you.

Me: Love you. Sweet dreams.

(I don't sleep for another two hours.)

Day 2 - Monday

Me: [photo of my coffee] Morning. Wish you were here to steal half of this.

Her: I don't steal. I share.

Me: You steal. But I let you because I love you.

Her: 😘

Day 2 - Monday Evening

(The house feels wrong. Too big. Too empty. I eat dinner alone. Her chair across from me is vacant.)

(My phone rings. Her name lights up the screen.)

Me: (Answering immediately.) Hey baby.

Her: (Voice bright but I can hear the exhaustion.) Hi! How was your day?

Me: Long. Boring. How's your family?

Her: They're good. We went shopping today. Mom bought me three sweaters I didn't need.

Me: (Smiling.) That sounds like her.

Her: (Pause.) I miss you.

Me: (Swallowing hard.) I miss you too.

Her: How much?

Me: (Looking around the empty house.) So much it hurts.

Her: (Voice soft.) Baby...

Me: (Quickly.) But I'm fine. Really. You enjoy your time there.

Her: (Not convinced.) You sure?

Me: (Lying.) Yes. Now tell me about the sweaters.

(We talk for an hour. About nothing. About everything. Just to hear each other's voices.)

Day 3 - Tuesday Texts

Her: Good morning 💕

Me: Morning, beautiful. Sleep okay?

Her: Not really. You?

Me: Same.

Her: Only 4 more days.

Me: Only 4 more.

Her: We can do this.

Me: Yeah. We can.

Day 3 - Tuesday Afternoon

(I come home from work early. The house is suffocating in its silence.)

(I walk to our bedroom. Stand in the doorway. Everything looks the same but feels wrong.)

(Her book is on the nightstand. The one she was reading before she left.)

(I pick it up. Sit on the windowsill. Open to the page she bookmarked.)

(I'm not really reading. Just holding something of hers.)

(That's when I see him. Mr. Snuggles. Her teddy bear. The one she's had since she was seven.Sitting on her pillow.)

(I grab him. Hold him close. He smells like her perfume.)

(I curl up on the windowsill, her book in one hand, Mr. Snuggles tucked against my chest, and stare out the window at nothing.)

(This is pathetic. I know it's pathetic.)

(I don't care.)

Day 3 - Tuesday Evening, 6:23 PM

(I'm still on the windowsill. Still holding Mr. Snuggles. Still pretending to read.)

(I hear a car pull into the driveway.)

(Probably the neighbors.)

(But then I hear footsteps. A key in the lock. The front door opening.)

Her: (Voice calling from downstairs.) Hello?

(I freeze. That's her voice. But it can't be. She's not supposed to be home for four more days.)

(I hear her footsteps on the stairs. Getting closer.)

(I quickly set Mr. Snuggles down. Try to look casual. Pick up the book like I've been reading this whole time.)

Her: (Appearing in the doorway, suitcase still in hand.) Hi.

Me: (Looking up, trying to sound surprised.) You're home. I thought you weren't coming back until Sunday.

Her: (Setting down her suitcase, eyes soft.) I couldn't wait that long.

Me: (Standing, trying to play it cool.) Your family's okay with that?

Her: (Walking toward me slowly.) They understood. I told them I needed to come home.

Me: (Swallowing.) Why?

Her: (Stopping in front of me.) Because I missed you. Because three days felt like three months. Because sleeping without you is impossible and eating without you is lonely and existing without you is just... empty.

Me: (Looking down.) I was fine. Really. I wasn't—

Her: (Glancing at Mr. Snuggles on the windowsill, then at the book in my hands, then back at me.) You were reading my book?

Me: (Defensive.) I was just... looking at it.

Her: (Softly.) And holding my teddy bear?

Me: (Refusing to meet her eyes.) He was just there. I wasn't—

Her: (Smiling, eyes glistening.) Baby.

Me: (Still not looking at her.) I told you I was fine. The house was fine. Everything was fine.

Her: (Opening her arms.) Come here.

Me: (Shaking my head.) I'm okay. Really. You didn't have to come home early for me.

Her: (Voice breaking slightly.) Please. Come here.

(And I break. Completely.)

(I step into her arms and I melt. Just completely melt into her. My face buried in her neck. My arms wrapped so tight around her waist I'm probably crushing her.)

(But she's holding me just as tight. Her fingers in my hair. Her face pressed against my shoulder.)

Me: (Muffled.) I missed you so much.

Her: (Crying now.) I know. I missed you too.

Me: (Pulling back slightly to look at her.) The house was too quiet. The bed was too big. Everything felt wrong without you.

Her: (Wiping her tears, then mine.) I couldn't do it. I tried. I really tried to make it the whole week. But by this morning I was already looking up flights home.

Me: (Cupping her face.) You cut your trip short for me?

Her: (Smiling through tears.) Of course I did. I'd cut anything short for you. I'd drop everything for you.

Me: (Voice thick.) I love you.

Her: (Kissing me softly.) I love you too. So much.

Me: (Looking over at Mr. Snuggles.) I'm sorry I stole your teddy bear.

Her: (Laughing, crying.) You can have him. You looked so sad sitting there with him.

Me: (Embarrassed.) I wasn't sad. I was just... reading. In a comfortable spot.

Her: (Touching my cheek.) On the windowsill? Hugging my teddy bear?

Me: (Finally smiling.) Okay. Maybe I was a little sad.

Her: (Pulling me back into her arms.) A little?

Me: (Burying my face in her neck again.) A lot. I was really sad. The house felt empty. I felt empty.

Her: (Holding me tighter.) I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere.

Me: (Squeezing her.) Promise?

Her: (Kissing the top of my head.) Promise. No more trips without you.

Me: (Pulling back, looking at her seriously.) Never again.

Her: (Smiling.) Never again.

Me: (Kissing her—desperate, grateful, relieved.) I'm so glad you're home.

Her: (Kissing me back.) Me too. I'm so glad I'm home.

(We stand there in the bedroom, holding each other as the sun sets outside the window. Mr. Snuggles watching from the windowsill. Her book forgotten on the floor.)

Me: (Whispering.) Three days was too long.

Her: (Whispering back.) Way too long.

Me: (Tightening my arms around her.) Don't leave me again.

Her: (Smiling against my chest.) Only if you promise to come with me next time.

Me: (Not hesitating.) Deal. Wherever you go, I go.

Her: (Looking up at me.) Even if it's just to visit my parents?

Me: (Kissing her forehead.) Especially then. I'll call in sick. I'll quit my job. Whatever it takes. I'm not spending another three days without you.

Her: (Laughing, crying.) You're not quitting your job.

Me: (Serious.) I would. For you, I would.

Her: (Touching the side of my face.) I know. That's why I love you.

Me: (Leaning into her touch.) I'm yours. You know that, right? Completely yours.

Her: (Pulling me down for another kiss.) And I'm yours. Always.

(And we stay like that—wrapped around each other, making up for three days apart, never wanting to let go again.)