Hollowed Out

Elaine stood in her bedroom, wrapped in a towel, steam from her shower still clinging to her skin. The house was quiet in that particular after-school way. When Mark was alive she used to find the quiet a reprieve from the noise and chaos the students brought to her professional life. Since he died, though, it had taken on a new quality. Empty. Hollowed out. It was as if the lack of noise was no longer the gift of peace, but a painful reminder of what could be filling it.

She missed Roy.

The thought came easily. Naturally. Like a reflex.

She sat on the edge of her king-sized bed, the mattress too large for just one person, and felt his absence. Missing Mark was one thing, a deep and profound loss of a long-time partner, but missing Roy was an entirely different thing. She had only been with her boyfriend a short amount of time, but in that time it had become painfully obvious that she could not live without him. It was as if he had been made by the heavens for her, and she him.

Elaine was so glad to have met him when she did, in this dark time in her life. Not only had he brought joy back into her life, but he had reminded her that it was okay for a woman of her age to still feel desired, to be pursued. And while she loved every minute that she'd been with Roy, she was glad that she hadn't met him earlier. Had she found him when Mark was still alive, she would have been **** to make an impossible choice.

But Mark was gone, and Roy was hers. The nightmare scenario would never happen, one of the only blessings that had come from her husband's passing.

Feeling lonely, towel tucked tight around her damp body, she picked up her phone. A small habit. A comfort. A way to feel connected in her big, quiet house. Reach out and touch somebody... wasn't that what the old ads used to say?

With a tap of her thumb, her messages opened. Claire's thread sat near the top. She scrolled through it without really reading. Complaints about work, about rowdy teenagers. A meme. A late-night "so tired" from the night before. They went on like that, as she scrolled back in time. Something about Adam, something about Roy. A selfie of her in what looked like Roy's kitchen. She couldn't focus. It was as if the messages had become hazy, blurry. She must have been tired herself.

Filing it away as unimportant, she changed threads to the one she really wanted.

Roy's.

The message on top was from her.

ELAINE: so??? how did the date with Claire-Bear go??

Elaine stared at it. Her brow furrowed. She understood every word in that message, but for some reason it was reading as gibberish. What in the world had she been trying to say to Roy?? How tired had she been when she sent it??

She felt a brief, hollow little twist in her chest. What if he looked at the text and thought she was a blabbering idiot? Roy was a clever, kind, and warm man, but would he put up with a girlfriend who couldn't even put a simple sentence together?

She gave a short, self-conscious laugh.

God, Elaine, she thought. Roy loves you. Everyone has a brain fart every once in a while. Just laugh about it and move on. You were probably half asleep when you sent it.

Honestly, she could barely remember sending it at all. In the long run, it wouldn't matter. Besides, she was more interested in what she was about to send him than what she'd sent him last.

ELAINE: Hey Babe. Miss you! How was work? Dinner this week? Tomorrow?

On impulse, she opened her camera and snapped a quick selfie. Damp hair. Bare shoulders. Towel visible. Nothing dramatic. Just her. Familiar. Intimate. A reminder of what he was missing by being away from her.

She sent it before she could overthink it.

Elaine got dressed in relaxed clothes, sweatpants, a tank top, slipped her phone into her pocket, and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

There were times when the silence of the house was worse than others. Those few moments in the dark just before she fell asleep, the first few minutes after she walked in the front door from work, and dinner time. Dinner time was, by far, the worst of them. She missed Mark and the kids dearly at times like this. She missed the way dinner used to mean something. Conversation. Connection.

It went without saying that Roy helped with that. Roy made things feel less empty. Not just because he was another body, but because he had a soothing effect on Elaine. His calm, relaxed manner, his easy smile, the way he listened to her as if he couldn't believe how lucky he was to be with her, all of it made her feel so much better.

She wondered, as she often did, if he might move in someday.

The thought brought a soft smile. The idea felt natural. Logical. Roy belonged here, in her life, in her home. She could picture it easily: his things in the closet, his coffee mug by the sink, his presence filling in some of the silence. Someone to listen to, someone to care for, someone to grow old with.

Then her thoughts drifted, just as naturally, to Michelle.

She hoped Michelle wouldn't feel pushed aside.

Elaine was careful about that. She didn't want to be too possessive. She wasn't that kind of woman. Love wasn't something you hoarded. Any woman Roy loved, Elaine could love too. That was the kind of person she was. Open. Understanding.

She hoped Michelle was nice.

She even hoped she'd get to meet her soon.

Not that she'd push Roy into it. Michelle was his girlfriend, not Elaine's. What they had was special. Roy and Michelle clearly loved each other, and Elaine knew that she shouldn't interfere. It wasn't her place. Besides, she was sure that he'd let them meet one day soon, and she was also sure that when it happened it would be wonderful. Why wouldn't it be? She wanted the best for Roy and Michelle, just the same way Michelle, Elaine was sure, wanted the best for Roy and Elaine!

Opening the freezer, eying the selection, she pulled out a container of pasta she'd made earlier in the week. Another habit that had developed since Mark died: cooking too much, freezing portions, pretending the house still needed to be fed the way it used to.

It didn't feel right to cook for just one.

The microwave hummed. She leaned against the counter, thoughts wandering.

Having the kids over on the weekend had helped. Hearing their voices. Seeing their lives unfold. The house remembered what it was for then. Roy being there had helped even more. It had been so wonderful, seeing Claire and Evan start to accept Roy as part of the family. Not a replacement for their father, but as something new. Something for Elaine.

Maybe he'd agree to come over tomorrow. Maybe he'd agree to spend the night. Just one night wouldn't be too selfish, too greedy, would it? She could cook him something special, and then afterward she could be the dessert...

The microwave beeped, sharp in the quiet kitchen.

Elaine startled slightly, as if she'd been caught thinking something private.

She stirred the pasta and put it back in for a little longer. The smell filled the kitchen. Garlic. Tomato. Warmth. She poured herself a glass of water while it finished.

When it beeped again, she carried the container to the big dining table, using a dishtowel to protect her hands. She sat in her usual chair, the opposite one empty.

She took her first bite.

Then her phone buzzed.

Her heart lifted instantly. She pulled it from her pocket.

ROY: Dinner sounds great. Tomorrow - 6? I miss you too

Elaine smiled so hard her cheeks ached.

Roy.

Her boyfriend.

Her man.

The simple truth of it wrapped around her like a blanket. The encroaching silence was instantly chased away by a symphony of emotion. Roy loved her. Tomorrow night that chair across from her would be filled.

Things were right in the world, the way they were meant to be.

She set her phone down beside her plate and took another bite of pasta, warmth spreading through her.

Tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.