The woman: lying on her side with her face half-buried in the pillow. She breathes. A steady, familiar breath. The man knows it like his own.
The man: on the other side of the bed on his knees, hands clasped in supplication. Eyes closed. Prayer one ceaseless stream of whispers. These whispers all for Her, all for Her, all for Her … may She be happy may She be happy may She be happy…
She shifts in the sheets and moans softly. She is dreaming now—dreaming of another man. Her breath falters, flutters. Her lips part, sound a soundless name, settle into a distant smile.
A smile: the man’s prayers are coming true. The ring on his finger glints, quivers. From the other side of the bed he whispers: thank you. Thank you, Lord. Thank you.
