He Died in Her Sleep

It was getting to be time for bed. Brad knew that if he didn’t turn off the television and get out of his recliner, it would be midnight again before he got under the blankets. He would have been in bed by now if he had gotten a “come hither” look for some romantic activities from Julia, but she gave him no indication that would happen. Things certainly weren’t like they were when they were first married.

There was something about those late-night hours that paralyzed his motivation to move. It also seemed to dial down his good sense when it came to steering clear of ice cream or bowls of cereal or worse. The later it got, the dumber he became.

Tonight, however, would be different. He grabbed the remote, clicked the red button, and pulled down on the lever of the recliner to get up. He avoided the kitchen and went directly to the bathroom to get ready for bed. On the way up the stairs, he stepped over the fourth step that squeaks to keep from waking Julia. He tried to be courteous in those sorts of things. He took pride in being a caring partner.

Pills, teeth, toilet, wash-up… and just like that, he was done. He stepped into the bedroom and, navigating in the darkness, slipped under the covers an hour earlier than usual. He tried not to disturb Julia, who had gone to bed around nine o’clock, as had become her habit. He liked the familiar scent of the bedroom they shared. He wasn’t quite sure what the ingredients were to that smell, but it comforted him.

She was very still. That worried Brad. He sometimes feared that he would come to bed or wake up in the morning and Julia would be dead. It was an irrational fear, which he knew, but it wasn’t a new one. He never told her about it, but sometimes, over the years, he even dreamed about her dying in her sleep.

Losing the love of his life would be awful. Having her die next to him as he slept—and then finding her dead—was a terrifying scenario that he couldn’t get out of his mind. They were both getting older, as everyone is, but there was no indication either of them was in their last days. He would turn seventy next year, and she was sixty-two. Seventy is the new sixty, and all that. Still, people die in their sleep every day.

He turned on his side and put his hand on her shoulder. She felt nice and warm. That was good. For thirty-five years, he’d shared a bed with her. The few nights they spent apart only reminded him how much he depended on her being there next to him.

Brad rolled back over onto his other side, facing the wall, and scrunched the pillow under his head. He reached over to turn on the bedside radio at a very low volume so as not to awaken Julia. It was set to a music station he liked.

The next morning, he woke up refreshed and turned towards his wife, but she wasn’t there. She often got up before he did. Part of him was relieved to see that she hadn’t died in the night. He once again felt silly about having that unfounded fear. Both of them survived the hours of darkness and were ready to face another day. After a trip to the bathroom, he wandered downstairs and into the kitchen to say good morning, but she wasn’t there. He checked the rest of the downstairs and basement, but there was no Julia.

At his place at the kitchen table, he found an envelope and opened it. Inside was a short letter. Here’s what it said:

“Bradley, thank you for being a good husband and provider all these years. You are a nice man. I am writing this note to say that I’ve found someone else, and I have left you in order to be with him. He makes me feel so alive, and even though I hate to hurt you, I had to leave for my own good. Life is too short to pass up these magical connections. I’ll be in touch about getting my stuff. -Julia”

He put down the letter and sat in his chair. He looked out the window. It was spring, and everything was green and growing and full of life. Brad did not feel full of life at the moment. He didn’t feel full of anything. He was empty except for a burning anger in his chest. He wasn’t somebody who yelled or broke things. He absorbed his anger. Years of doing that probably took years off his life, and this sure wasn’t going to help. He put his head in his hands and closed his eyes.

It was terrible, but he couldn’t just sit there forever—however long that might be for him. Some men might have done something rash if their wives left them on a Saturday morning before the sun rose. Brad went to the living room and sat on his recliner while he considered his options. After a few minutes, he decided he had only a few choices. He could kill himself, he could withdraw from life and feel sorry for himself, or he could restart his life without her.

Brad went up to the bedroom and straightened up the bed a little. He pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt he liked that Julia hated. As he got dressed, he remembered that silly fear—how worried he had been that Julia would die next to him. It was a worry that he’d lived with for so long. Being proven wrong each morning for all those years was, in an odd way, invigorating. Day after day of his worst fear not coming true.

He felt no invigoration now. Now, he wasn’t worried about her dying in the night. In fact, he wasn’t so sure he wanted her to be alive anymore. The thought of her with another man who made her feel “so alive” made him a little sick to his stomach. That man couldn’t possibly feel the same way about Julia as he did. That man hadn’t invested thirty-five years in making a marriage work, in managing her ups and downs, and being the best husband, father, and provider he could be. The other man hadn’t absorbed her criticisms and complaints. He didn’t know what it was like to never be quite good enough. Most of all, the other man hadn’t checked each night and morning to make sure Julia was still breathing.

Brad had a pretty good idea who this new love was. He’d seen him walking out of the yoga class Julia attended the night she asked Brad to pick her up. He saw her look at the guy and smile. “Mr. make me feel so alive” looked fifty-ish, had a scruffy beard and a ponytail. Brad didn’t care for that look in any man over twenty years old, but women seemed to be charmed by it. Maybe he’d change his look. He ran his fingers through his thinning hair. Maybe he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t help but wonder if the yoga man was taking advantage of Julia in order to get her money. It was mostly Brad’s money, but he never looked at it that way. Not until that morning. He’d have to go to the bank to make sure it stayed there.

Younger guys are predators to older women sometimes. Just like younger women have been known to prey on older men. She was smart enough to know that, but it must have felt good to have a youngish stud show an interest in her. For Brad’s part, he imagined that he might welcome being taken advantage of by a younger woman. As if that would ever happen.

Crime shows make it seem like anybody who gets cheated on kills their spouse. Maybe that desire to murder was something normal to feel, but he didn’t feel it. But even if he did feel like she deserved to be killed, he couldn’t and wouldn’t do it. Love doesn’t disappear because of betrayal. If anything, it swells to take over a person completely. At least for a while. That focus on a love makes the feeling of loss so much greater.

Brad felt helpless as he sat in his recliner, looking at the yard they’d both worked on the day before. What she must have been thinking as she raked and pulled weeds with the person she was about to desert.

The person who leaves makes the decision to go. The person who is left has nothing to contribute to the conversation. They’re just left behind as collateral damage. Nothing but sadness and loneliness. It wasn’t fair, of course, but life isn’t.

Maybe growing older had made her feel like an animal in a trap with the walls closing in. Every day, she felt a little older, a little more wrinkled, a little more forgetful. Maybe she felt like getting out of the trap she shared with Brad would save her from old age. Animals gnaw their legs off to get out of a trap. Maybe running off with a younger man was Julia’s version of that.

Brad went to the cupboard and got a bowl and some Life cereal. He plucked a spoon from the drawer and opened the fridge to get the milk, just like most mornings. Julia had left her cup on the counter, where she always did. He picked it up and looked at it. He slid open the trash cupboard and threw it away. That’s what he felt like. Like he had been thrown away. In an odd way, throwing her cup in the trash helped a little.

Before pouring the milk into his bowl, he paused. What if, instead of running away from home, she had died lying next to him last night? Died in her sleep. It would have been horrible. His worst fear would have been realized.

But then, at least, he could have believed she always loved and appreciated him and that they’d had a happy marriage. People would express great sympathy to him for his terrible loss. He would have lost her, yes, but he would still have the memory of Julia as his one true love.

But she didn’t die in her sleep. Now, his memory of their love was damaged beyond repair. Maybe she would slip into the gentle hand of death tonight, he thought, wherever she was. Maybe Yoga Boy would be the one to discover her lifeless body in the morning, frantically calling 9-1-1. He wouldn’t know enough to check on her in the night like Brad did.

As he crunched his cereal, Brad wondered if maybe he would be the one to fade away during the night. If he did, he knew Julia would be sad when she found out. She had loved him, after all. He was sure of that. Maybe she still did, but just not enough.