Every Closed Eye Ain't 'Sleep by MaRita Teague

Every Closed Eye Ain't 'Sleep by MaRita Teague

Author:MaRita Teague [Teague, MaRita]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Urban Books
Published: 2015-09-07T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 22

ISABELLA

If we suffer, we shall also reign with him.

—2 Timothy 2:11a

The smell of burnt toast and the smoke detector going off woke me up. I knew this to be a part of Langley’s lame attempt at reconciliation. If it were only as easy as him fixing me breakfast. Over the years, I always jumped to Langley’s every beck and call. Guessed I’d always felt like I needed to earn my keep, especially after I stopped working as his office manager.

The thing was, any job I could’ve gotten years ago would’ve been menial work to him and just embarrassed him. Years ago my friend Angela had started her own business cleaning homes, and I was mighty excited for her. When she asked if I’d like to help, I jumped at the chance. Once Langley found out, he flipped out. “No wife of mine will be cleaning other people’s homes. Do you have any idea how that would make me look?”

I heard a light tapping at the door, but I didn’t move. I felt tired of jumping, trying to earn my keep, hold his attention, and make a real godly marriage all by myself. The door creaked, and in he walked with a tray of food and even fresh flowers. I pretended to be asleep, hoping he’d just leave the tray and go.

“Isabella?” he whispered. “Isabella, wake up. I’ve brought you something to eat.”

I opened my eyes but without my glasses, he looked foggy and actually a whole lot better that way. “Oh, you didn’t need to bother with that. Thank you.”

Langley sat uneasily on the bed. “I was getting a little concerned. Never known you to sleep past eight. It’s ten.”

My medications either seemed to give me insomnia or make me sleep like a brick. “Yes, guess you got that right. I can’t believe that I’ve slept so late. I’m tired.”

I was sure he heard the word “tired” in more than one way. He looked concerned. “Well, now, you just go right ahead and enjoy your breakfast, Isabella.”

I started to sit up, but I remembered. Alarmed that my hair might have shed more, I stayed glued to the bed. Even with it pinned up, I didn’t know what to expect. Langley watched, waiting for me to eat.

“I do appreciate the breakfast, but can you put the tray over on the dresser? I need to freshen up a bit first.”

Clearly disappointed, he set the tray on the dresser. I saw that he wore his golf attire, a crisp Polo shirt and heavily starched khakis.

“Going golfing today?”

“Ummm, well, I thought I’d go to practice at an indoor range if you wanted to rest. Or I could stay?”

Lord, if I ever wanted him to go, it was then. All the Saturdays I had practically begged him to take me to an antique mall or a little weekend getaway, and now I wanted him to leave. The sight of him nearly made me sick, yet what would I do without him?

Instead, he sat back down on the bed.



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