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After: I'm Here


Ashley

I climbed onto the bed. My body creaked almost as loudly as the mattress. I lowered myself down, leaning my head onto the pillow. I was pretty sure the kids were probably shouting at each other downstairs in the aftermath of the atomic bomb of information that I'd just released on them. I was glad I couldn't hear it. I closed my eyes and rolled onto my side, pressing my face into the folds of Nick's old shirt, breathing in his scent.

I don't know what I'd felt down in that dining room. But it'd been like he'd been there.

Over the years, whenever I was stressed, Nick had developed a habit of rubbing my neck and shoulders. He'd come up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders and gently press his thumbs into the skin at the base of my neck and squeeze my shoulders softly, releasing my tension and stress. I'd felt that. I'd felt it. I know it sounds crazy, and I felt crazy. But it had been realistic enough that for a split second, before I remembered Nick was gone and realized the kids were not the ones doing it, that I'd almost allowed all my stress to fade away.

I wondered what it meant.

"Nick," I whispered, opening my eyes. "Are you here right now?" I asked into the dark room, my voice quiet.

Of course no reply came. Of course not. How could there be? Nick was dead. Gone. I'd seen that much myself, seen the peace fill his eyes, heard his last breath fall from his mouth, felt his chest stop rising and falling. I'd listened for that sporratic heartbeat of his that I'd used as a lullabye for many a year and heard nothing but a startling silence. I'd felt the cold of his skin. I'd picked out the suit for them to put him in, selected the coffin. I'd watched them lower it into the ground. I'd let grains of dirt and grass pass through my fingers to thump against the lid six feet down. I'd watched them fill the gap and seal the deal with a pat of the shovel on newly packed ground.

He couldn't be there.

And yet I could feel him the way I'd felt him everyday.

You know when you walk into a house and you can feel that there are people there or there are not people there? You can feel the energy, the charge, the presence? Well Nick's presence was very strong. Like he was laying there with me in the bed. Like he was close enough to touch.

I reached out my hand and touched the empty air.

"Are you there?" I whispered. "Give me a sign."




Nick

Her hand was where my heart should be. I stared down at it, wishing I could feel it. Wishing she were really touching me and not just air. I wasn't a part of her world. I felt sick.

"Are you there? Give me a sign." Her eyes were glazed with unshed tears. Her lower lip quivered. "Nick."

"I'm here," I answered, even though I knew she couldn't hear me any more than she could touch me. "I'm here, baby." I reached out my hand, hovered my hand just above her cheek. If I moved further, my hand would pass through her face the way I'd passed through the door.

A tear slipped out of her eye and slid across her cheek. It dripped over the end of her nose. She pushed herself up suddenly, grabbed her cell phone from her nightstand, and I saw her dial my phone number. I pulled out my cell phone from my pocket. I stared down at it. It rang. I answered it.

"Ashley," I said into it.

Maybe this was my portal. Maybe she would hear me if I spoke into the phone.

She made a weird face, pulled the phone away from her ear. "Hello?" she said into it. She held it back up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Ashley, can you hear me?"

"Hello? Is anyone there?" She asked, "Hello?"

"Ashley! I'm here! I'm right here, right in front of you."

She pulled the phone away and hung it up. She stared at it, brow furrowed, perplexed. After a moment, she dialed again. I didn't answer it this time. I sent it to voicemail. As my message played - loud enough I could hear it through her phone, her perplexed expression melted. "Oh God Nick," she said into the phone after the beep had run, "I thought they disconnected your phone. I thought I'd lost you forever."

I stared down at my phone as it vibed a moment later with a voicemail from her. I looked up at her. "I wish I had a way to answer you," I said thickly. "But I'm here, baby. I'm here."