HIDDEN EDGES

I stare at him intently, hoping he'd feel it and finally look away from his phone and at me. A few seconds pass and he's not budging. He's so impossible.

"Dylan, aren't you even going to look at me?!"

"No," he says in a monotone.

"But why," I ask sadly, in hopes that it will work this time. "We've been over this for days now. It wouldn't hurt to just accept, you know."

He stays silent this time, putting all his attention on his phone. Now he's getting me angry.

" I can't believe you're going to ignore me, your wife, over an issue as petty as this one. You're just being very selfish, you know. You-",

"If I say we're not going, then we're not going," he cuts me off, looking me dead in the eye, "end of discussion."

With that voice, I know it's truly the end. I just really love travels and new memories and the idea of going on a three-day trip with Dylan and his parents isn't bad at all. His mom has been asking me to convince him, but I've had enough. Dylan isn't the type of person to convince. Once he's made up his mind about something, there's no going back. The reason why he's so bent on not going for his own family vacation is still a mystery I'm yet to unfold.

Sadly, I lay far from him on my side of the bed. Moments later, I hear shuffling, then the lights go off, and I feel him hug me from behind. I try to shift away from him but his grip on me is firm. All my attempts to wriggle free seem futile as he only pulls me closer. Why did I have to marry such a strong man? My subconscious winks at me and I roll my eyes at my perverted side.

"I know how you feel babe, but I really need you to trust me on this one, okay?"

Dylan could be really difficult to deal with sometimes, but the fact remains that he's my husband and I love him more than anything else.

Nodding my head, I whisper an okay, then I feel him relax as he plants a kiss on my forehead.

"I love you Crystal," he says in a husky voice.

"I love you Dylan."

I close my eyes as we lay together in silence, and it's not long before darkness envelops me into a sweet dreamless slumber.

Singing along to Lewis Capaldi's "Headspace" on my iPod, I do the dishes and prepare breakfast at the same time. It's almost 10:30 and Dylan hasn't come downstairs yet. I'm sure he's awake though. He's been a little distant since his parents called to inform us about the vacation.

Thinking back through the nine months I've known Dylan, he's always been a secretive person, but it's been getting a little worse lately. Yeah, you heard right, nine months. We dated for three months and we've been married the rest.

Weird, I know, but those three months were the best three months of my life and the moment I saw him on his knees searching his pockets frantically for the ring he bought on his way to meet me at the Chinese restaurant that was our rendezvous, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.

"And what thought has my precious Crystal smiling all by herself?" His voice only makes me smile wider, and I turn to face him only to be met with a peck on my lips and his hands around my waist.

"Only the thought of my darling Dylan could make me smile this wide, and you know it." We started kissing as I put my hand around his neck. Every kiss feels like the first and I doubt I can ever have enough of him. Just as I'm about to deepen the kiss, his phone rings in his pocket. We both smile against each other's lips as he pulls back a little, his forehead on mine.

"Go pick up your call while I set the table."

"Fine, but by the time we're done with breakfast, we'll prepare something else in the bedroom." He winks at me and I laugh, mouthing "pervert" as he picks up his call and heads to the living room.

Smiling, I started to set the table as I watched him make his call. Suddenly, his smile turns upside down and there's anger in his eyes. He goes outside probably to prevent me from eavesdropping on the conversation.

Hurriedly, I go look through the living room window and see him talking furiously.

Seconds later, he looks at his phone screen and a somewhat shocked expression covers his face. That's how he reacts whenever someone hangs up on him. He raises his hand to throw his phone away out of anger but desists from it, kicking a stone instead and starts to head back inside. Quickly, I scurried away into the kitchen, plastering a fake smile on my face. Slamming the door behind him, he comes into the kitchen looking frustrated and furious at the same time.

"Dylan?" I drop the plate on the table and look at him with worry and concern. "What's wrong?"

"Start preparing, we leave on Friday."

"Huh? Leave to where?"

"The stupid vacation," he says and heads upstairs, the banging of the door resonating around the house, leaving me shocked, confused and worried all at the same time.

*. *. *. *. *.

"Yes Betty, we're getting ready. We'll meet you guys at home in the next hour."

"Okay darling," Dylan's mom says over the phone, "be careful driving. We're waiting."

"Yeah, bye". I hang up and inspect the bags one more time before zipping them up, hopefully not leaving anything behind.

"Dylan!" I shouted out to him from the bedroom window. He's outside cleaning the car. "Could you come help me carry the heavy bags? I'm done packing." He gives me a thumbs up and comes in a few minutes later. Without a word, he carries the two big bags at once, and I follow him with the medium-sized and small duffel bag. He arranges them in the trunk, looking sad and unhappy. Almost scared. I left him and went back inside, picked up my backpack, switched off the lights and locked the doors. He's standing by the car, so lost in thoughts that he doesn't notice my presence.

"Hey," I say, holding his hands firm in mine, "You know, we could just go back inside and tell your parents I changed my mind or that I'm sick or something. We don't have to do this if it bothers you so much. I don't know why you're being this way about it and I want you to talk to me. I've been asking you to tell me why you're so upset about it, why the sudden change of mind if you don't want to do it. Who called the other day? What is going on, Dylan?"

Without a word, he hugs me tightly to his chest and I just stand there, still confused. His sadness rubbing off on me very fast.

"Promise me," he says almost in a whisper, "Promise me you won't hate me. Please"

I stand dumbfounded at what he just said. Why would I hate him? I love him too much to even imagine a thing like that. Is that his fear? But why? What's going on? Why is he making such a big deal about all of this?

"Dylan," I look him in the eye, mustering up all the courage I have, "I love you more than anyone could ever imagine and that fact is never ever going to change."