I jerked my eyes open and leapt up like I had awoken from a nightmare. The sky was dyed the dull blue of dawn, and the rest stop walkways were visible without the necessity of the streetlights. The thicker blanket lay where Bethany had been sleeping, and her car door was unlocked.
In my panic, I threw my blanket to the side and leapt from the car. The air was chilly as it had been earlier, but I quickly forgot about the temperature when I scanned the rest stop for Bethany. I found her walking to the car from the bathrooms while wearing my jacket. I slammed the door shut and bolted toward her.
“Dennis, is everything all right?” she asked me.
I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her tight to me as I could without hurting her. “Bethany, I'm so sorry,” I apologized, my voice choked already.
She placed her hands on my back, and I squeezed her tighter, savoring the ability of being able to feel her touch.
“What's gotten into you, Dennis?”
I pulled away so that I could look her in the eyes but kept her in my arms. “I was wrong,” I told her. “I should have listened to you. I should have.” I found it harder to continue speaking, with saliva and mucus clogging my mouth. I coughed to the side to clear an opening for my voice and continued: “I didn't see how much pain you were in, because I was stupidly trying to get through all of this by myself. I had forgotten I had someone else I could rely on. I'm sorry.”
I hated the wrinkles from her frown and the streetlights reflected in her tears, because I was the cause of them. “Oh, Dennis,” she said, and pulled me closer. “I'm the one who should be apologizing. You were going through one of the toughest times of your life, and I should have been of more help to you.” She threw her wet face into my shoulder, and I leaned my head against hers. “I'm so sorry, Dennis.”
My head shuttered with my sobs, and I had to clear my throat again to speak. “We're a couple: two people. I want you to be of more help to me, which is why I'm asking you this.” I took her hands in mine, looked her in her puffy, red eyes, and asked, “Will you, Bethany Lancaster, help me through this tough time? No matter how little or how huge your involvement, will you help me get through this?”
She swiped away her tears with the sleeve of my jacket and said, “Of course I will. I'll be here for you whenever you need me. Always.” Then she gave me a smile. It wasn't quite that Smile, but it was a start. But I can assuredly say now that I see that Smile everyday.
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