Page 76 of Under The Twilight Rainfall
Phone calls. Texts. Video chats. They only take me so far.
And then there are the nights where missing him gets to me. Where the work I’m putting it at the Children’s Hospital takes its toll and what I need is my husband to wrap his arms around me and hold me like he did the night we found out about Pop-Pop. The night I told him I loved him for the first time.
Husband.I can still remember the cool metal of his wedding band blazing a trail of heat on my skin as he kissed me goodbye at the airport. It was brand new—less than twenty-four hours new—but nothing in the world had ever felt more right than marrying Dex Ashford.
Excuse me.Dex Olaño.
There was no ceremony. It had been spur of the moment. I booked Liam and myself a flight then texted Dex’s travel agent to get him to us as soon as possible. Spencer didn’t mind fudging up his schedule a little, and the look on Dex’s face when I showed up at the airport—almost exactly the way I had the first time—was absolutely priceless.
We went back to one of my fondest memories: to Kawasan Falls, under a twilight sky, in the same spot we shared our first kiss.
When Liam started the spiel, Dex’s brows pinched and trepidation crept into his features. My pulse ratcheted. I wondered if I should have asked. But then I said those two little words, and Dex’s entire expression opened.
I could see the fear, could see it in spades, but I also saw the hope. And the love. So much fucking love.
Liam didn’t even get to finish before Dex was crushing his mouth to mine, saying ‘yes’ and ‘I do’ over and over against my lips. And when Liam handed us the silver bands I’d picked out, Dex hadn’t even hesitated.
We got to have that night together, the first as husbands, but then he had a trip to finish. And I had a new job to settle into.
Liam took care of the paperwork for us, and I made sure to send Dex a very excited photo of our marriage certificate. It may have involved me being naked.
But that was weeks ago—months even—and I miss my husband more than I thought humanly possible. I thought the seven years I spent without him carved the biggest hole in my heart, but what I feel now is more like a canyon. A bottomless pit of pain and loneliness that I wish my love could come and pull me out of.
It doesn’t help that one of the patients I’ve been taking care of—a five-year-old named Tommy who had a congenital heart condition—passed away the other night at the end of my shift. I only held it together until I’d gotten home.
Home.The place I’d spent months preparing for Dex and I. The place we’d passed once on a trip through Dumaguete that Dex had fallen in love with. One I’d decided was a sign that this is where we were meant to be. Not Colorado. Not random hotels we could schedule to meet at. Here in the Philippines where the two of us finally came together. I got my degree, my certificates, and I came looking for a job in the place I knew we wanted to live our lives.
It’s also the place I’d lain in bed on the verge of a breakdown and listened to the phone ring on and on and on until it clicked over to voicemail. Three times.
Dex was busy. Was he doing a shoot? Negotiating model terms and all that technical jargon I don’t understand? He could have just been editing away on his laptop and not noticed his phone. But I’d left the messages; I don’t even know what I said, but I’m sure it was along the lines of me missing him, needing him, and loving him.
It’s not the first time he’s gone radio silent throughout the years. And I meant it when I said it didn’t—doesn’t—bother me, but some nights are hard. Harder than it feels like I can handle. I never want to hold him back, but I want more than anything to come home and get lost in my husband. To let him wipe my frustrations clean and remind me that I’ve been through hell and made it out. That this job is worth the heartache to see smiles on those kids’ faces.
I just miss him. And I’ve been too worried about being a bother to call again. Three nights of staring at my phone, of watching old videos and voice messages, my favorite being a good night message from back when I was staying with Ma and Pa while I was in nursing school back in Colorado. It’s him singing a lullaby for Theo—back when Theo still let us sing him lullabies—and it ends with a note just for me:
“I love you, Valen. My home. I’ll come back to you soon. I promise.”
And he did. He always has. No matter where I am—visiting Lola or living with Ma and Pa—Dex has always found time to be with me.
Scrolling through my messages, I see the last thing I sent Dex right after those missed calls. An address. For the home I haven’t told him about yet other than ‘it’s a surprise’ when he asks about where I am when he sees me on video.
I miss you. Please come home.
I haven’t had a call or text back since. When he gets all up in his head it sometimes takes him a few days to come down.
This is what I signed up for. This is how I knew our relationship would be.
But right now it justhurts.
It’s well after three in the morning, and I have the curtain open just enough to let a swathe of moonlight bathe across the bedroom. I didn’t even have the energy to clean up and change out of my scrubs after getting home nearly two hours ago. I flopped right down on the bed and stared at my phone like I could will Dex to call.
Figuring sleep is a fruitless fight, I crawl out of bed—ground cold on my bare feet—and make my way to the kitchen. A glass of water and an episode of my current K-Drama obsession should serve as a good distraction.
Only, something else in the room stops me with my fingers over the light switch. Even in the dark, I know those wide shoulders. I know the hands that are unlacing sneakers. I know those blue eyes as they flick up. And I know that smile, the one that belongs to my heart, my love,mahal ko.
I’ve made a bad habit of leaving the door unlocked at night, like an invitation to the universe to drop him off at our front door while I sleep so I can wake up with him beside me. It’s whimsical and unsafe, but what is it Dex used to call me?Daredevil Valen.
“Dex?” I haven’t moved from the entrance of the hall, from the intersection where the living room and kitchen meet across from the front door. I’m not positive this isn’t some sleep-deprived hallucination.
