I Almost Hurt Arthur—Until That Afternoon's Security Footage Told Me Otherwise.-12
A Request
Silence descended again, slightly softer now. Rubbing my cold fingers, I inhaled deeply, meeting her eyes directly. "Marianne." She looked at me. "Next time," I spoke slowly, deliberately, "if I’m holding Arthur... and I seem distant... or slow to respond... if you see that..." My throat tightened. "Could you... please don’t grab him immediately?" Pause.
Heart pounding. "Could you... just touch my shoulder? Or... say my name? Just once." My voice held a fragile plea. "Give me a moment... to come back." Marianne listened intently, the initial surprise fading into deep contemplation. She studied my face for a long moment, reassessing, understanding. Then, a single, deliberate, solemn nod. "Yes." The word landed, clear and solid.
Permission Granted
Marianne said "Yes." Then silence. Her hands relaxed on her knees, twitched slightly. She looked towards the cradle for a few seconds, then back at me. "Is he sleeping well now?" Quietly. I nodded. "Deeply." "Good." She murmured. A flicker touched her lips but didn't form a smile. She looked down at her hands, plucking at her robe's hem. After ten seconds, she met my eyes again. "Tomorrow morning," she asked softly, "may I feed him?"
Morning Ritual
I carried a drowsy Arthur into the kitchen. Marianne stood by the counter, bottle in hand. Hearing me, she turned, paused. I didn't advance. "Grandma will feed you, okay?" I whispered near his ear. Arthur murmured, nuzzling my neck. Marianne watched me. After a beat, she set the bottle down. Her hands reached—hesitantly. I held Arthur close, walked forward. Slowly, I transferred him. His blanket brushed my arm. He settled against her with a wriggle. "Oh, oh," she soothed instantly, sitting down to cradle him. I stepped back, watching. I didn't feel emptiness. My shoulders loosened slightly. I retrieved a glass, ran the tap. Water filled it. Marianne spoke softly to Arthur. A single water droplet fell. Plink.
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Silence descended again, slightly softer now. Rubbing my cold fingers, I inhaled deeply, meeting her eyes directly. "Marianne." She looked at me. "Next time," I spoke slowly, deliberately, "if I’m holding Arthur... and I seem distant... or slow to respond... if you see that..." My throat tightened. "Could you... please don’t grab him immediately?" Pause.
Heart pounding. "Could you... just touch my shoulder? Or... say my name? Just once." My voice held a fragile plea. "Give me a moment... to come back." Marianne listened intently, the initial surprise fading into deep contemplation. She studied my face for a long moment, reassessing, understanding. Then, a single, deliberate, solemn nod. "Yes." The word landed, clear and solid.
Permission Granted
Marianne said "Yes." Then silence. Her hands relaxed on her knees, twitched slightly. She looked towards the cradle for a few seconds, then back at me. "Is he sleeping well now?" Quietly. I nodded. "Deeply." "Good." She murmured. A flicker touched her lips but didn't form a smile. She looked down at her hands, plucking at her robe's hem. After ten seconds, she met my eyes again. "Tomorrow morning," she asked softly, "may I feed him?"
Morning Ritual
I carried a drowsy Arthur into the kitchen. Marianne stood by the counter, bottle in hand. Hearing me, she turned, paused. I didn't advance. "Grandma will feed you, okay?" I whispered near his ear. Arthur murmured, nuzzling my neck. Marianne watched me. After a beat, she set the bottle down. Her hands reached—hesitantly. I held Arthur close, walked forward. Slowly, I transferred him. His blanket brushed my arm. He settled against her with a wriggle. "Oh, oh," she soothed instantly, sitting down to cradle him. I stepped back, watching. I didn't feel emptiness. My shoulders loosened slightly. I retrieved a glass, ran the tap. Water filled it. Marianne spoke softly to Arthur. A single water droplet fell. Plink.
NEXT >>