Page 13 of Ezekiel
“You can’t see her. We’re on a voice call,” he argued, but passed the phone over to her.
“Hey there, Zeke. I think that you should tell her if you want to. I know I wished that Ollie would have just told me. And, please remember, I know Talia. We’ve known each other since we started school as children. She’s a sweet and kind girl, but she has her own thoughts and ideas. Talk to her. Really talk to her. She’ll listen.” Delilah’s words gave me hope and encouragement that I was desperately lacking in that moment. I would tell her. Not today, but soon.
“Hey, do you have a few minutes?” I asked her.
“Of course! What’cha need?” I could hear the smile in her voice, and it only served to brighten the moment that much further.
“Talia would like to speak to you. She’s feeling a little alone and, let’s be honest, I’m no fucking picnic,” I scoffed.
“I thinkyoushould talk to her,” Delilah tossed back, casting the smallest iota of judgment.
“I think that what she went through yesterday was traumatizing and having a safe place — a pre-established safe space — to talk in will only help her to heal faster.”
“You have a point there. Yes, I have time. Put her on.” I set the phone down, heading to the bedroom to retrieve my resting wife. I just hoped that the conversation would help her process some of what she was feeling. Then, perhaps we could really talk. Perhaps.
CHAPTER4
TALIA
“I think you should give him a chance, Talia,” Delilah urged. She made it sound so simple. Just listen to what he has to say and keep an open mind. Be accepting and understanding.
“I want to, Lilah. I really do, but he’s a stranger. A stranger who is now my husband. My husband, who won’t even sleep in the same bed as me.” I knew I was whining, but I couldn’t help it. I felt so lost. “This isn’t exactly the happily ever after I had envisioned.”
“Let me tell you, you might end up surprised. Happily ever after isn’t full of divine intervention and princes on white horses coming to rescue the fair maiden. Happily ever after is learning how to communicate and accept your partner. Being seen and heard when you felt you had no voice.” Delilah’s words hung in the air as I contemplated them. What she spoke of sounded wonderful, but it just seemed impossible with Ezekiel.
He was so odd, always walking around looking like he was nearly in pain. He barely spoke. I had never been in such quiet before in my entire life.
“It’s really that simple? Just listen and be open? Sounds like a trap,” I teased.
“You would think that, but seriously, it is that easy. I didn’t make it easy on Ollie. But once I got past my own issues, we made genuine progress. Just be open and understanding. Don’t hide things. When you have questions, ask them. Talk it out. Especially since you only have a week during this honeymoon. That’s my advice,” she stated. Her words were wise, and I took them to heart.
“I adore that you call him Ollie,” I chirped, finding it to be sweet. “Does he call you Lilah?”
“You are the only person who calls me Lilah, so no. He calls me something else.” There was something in the sound of her voice that I couldn’t quite place. I was about to ask when she spoke again. “Anyway, go talk to your husband. Really talk to him. We’ll talk again soon, okay?” We ended the call, leaving me sitting in Ezekiel’s study, pondering just how I was going to have this conversation with him.
It wasn’t how we were taught. If my mother knew I was contemplating having a blunt conversation with my husband about sex and intimacy, I fear she would have melted into the floor with shame on my behalf. It wasn’t done.
Leaving Ezekiel’s phone on his desk, I decided to take some time to myself. I had noticed the upstairs bathroom had a nice yet modest bathtub. A warm, relaxing bath on such a blustery, wintry day would surely help to calm my nerves and clear my head.
“Did you have a good conversation with Delilah?” Ezekiel called from the living room as I passed by.
“I did. I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to speak with her,” I answered honestly. “She has been a good friend to me for years and I appreciate her wisdom.”
“Delilah does have that, to be sure,” he answered with a chuckle.
“I think I’m going to take a bath, if that’s alright. Clear my head,” I excused myself.
“Be sure to use the one in the bedroom. It’s much nicer,” he commented, confusing me.
“In the bedroom?”
“Yes, in the en suite bathroom,” he explained, setting his book down onto the couch beside him. I looked on in confusion, his words not connecting for me.
“Did you not see the bathroom? In our bedroom?” I shook my head, and he chuckled. “Follow me, then.”
He led me to our bedroom, showing me one of the closed doors I assumed was a closet. When I opened the door, I was in awe. It wasn’t an overly enormous bathroom. Nothing opulent or anything. But there was a stone walk-in shower at one end of the room, and a large copper claw-foot tub near it. It was beautiful. The room, decorated in rich creams and browns with these beautiful reddish-orange accents, felt cozy and decadent simultaneously.
“Ezekiel, this—” my words cut off, speechless.
