A Special Love Language

By CJ Knight

Photo by Marek Studzinski on Unsplash

Story created for Bradley Ramsey’s The Halls of Pandemonium, Bonus Prompt #1.

The orchard sat beyond the edge of town in rolling fields where the roads were no more than tracks of stone and dust, and weathered wooden fences leaned with the age of the trees they protected. Apple trees stretched in neat rows with the discipline of soldiers beneath the golden rays of the setting sun. Leaves rustled in the branches with a nudge from the gentle breeze. The air was a bouquet of ripening fruit and mown grass.

Evelyn stepped beside her husband in silence. Daniel held her hand, thumb brushing against her knuckles with the awkward trepidation of a boy holding a girl’s hand on a first date. He insisted she come to this place with him. It needed to be tonight, something important he wanted to show her.

Something inside told Evelyn she should be afraid, but instead, all she felt was tired. Her eyes looked to the branches around her. The apples were covered with a thin layer of dew that shimmered beneath the rays of the fading sun.

At the end of the orchard, Daniel guided her to a collapsed section of fence, and the clearing beyond. Wildflowers grew unevenly amongst the dying grass. A space in the clearing appeared interrupted by small patches of disturbed earth. Daniel, still holding her hand, stopped by the freshest patch. Dark dirt, loosely packed and damp from last night’s rain. Evelyn’s eyes found the black leather shoe poking out from the end of the shallow grave. It was a shoe she recognised, seen it last night. Marcus. A knot tightened in her stomach.

Daniel released her hand and knelt beside the grave, brushing dirt from the toe of Marcus’s shoe. “Thought I’d buried him properly.”

Evelyn remembered last night, the parking lot behind the restaurant, where she dined with him every Thursday. The way his eyes sparkled beneath the lights and the dimples in his cheeks. The excitement she felt with his hands around her waist. He smiled and promised once again that he would leave his wife soon. Dirt was the only thing his hands held now.

Daniel picked himself up from the ground, brushing dirt away from his jeans. “He begged, you know,” Evelyn said nothing. “Told me he loved you.” Daniel smiled. “Strange thing to say to a man holding a hammer.”

The grass shifted as the breeze picked up. Evelyn looked away from the grave and noticed the others. One closer to the fence, another beneath an old oak, three more closer together on a slope, roots pushing up from the ground like dead fingers trying to dig themselves free. Her breath caught.

Daniel watched his wife from the corner of his eye, the way a quiet boy sneaks a glance at the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. “I do my best to keep them organised.”

Evelyn’s eyes remained on the graves. “How many?”

“Nine.” He tilted his head. “Ten now.”

Evelyn knew any normal woman would have screamed, run away, or collapsed in terror. Instead, she wandered between the graves, stopping at the one beneath the oak, long settled with age. A weathered stone rested at the end, marked only with a date scratched by hand. Nathan. Summer eight years ago. A bartender with sad eyes and nicotine stained fingertips. They stayed up nights dreaming of running away together. One day he vanished. Everyone thought he skipped town. Evelyn thought he’d found someone new and discarded her like trash. Daniel comforted all those years ago when she cried about Nathan.

The next grave. Another stone with another date. Julian. A photographer from Melbourne. The next one. Eric. A gym instructor with an air of danger and the tattoos to match. Evelyn’s chest tightened with each memory. Each time they went missing, Evelyn stayed with Daniel. A weak husband whom she doubted ever loved her.

The orchard darkened around them. Crickets chirped among the wildflowers. Daniel started to speak and then stopped. Evelyn turned toward him. There was dirt beneath his fingernails and a drop of blood on his sleeve cuff. Worry lines creased his forehead, and his eyes. God, those eyes. A place she could lose herself, even now. The look in them now. Terrified. Not of being caught. Of losing her. “I never wanted to hurt you, Evelyn.” He lifted his head to look at the sky. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest. Every bouquet of roses left on her bedside table after each affair. The quiet nights when he held her while she slept. Worried glances when she returned home smelling of another man’s cologne. All those years she mistook devotion for weakness. She glanced once more at the surrounding graves. This was the height of devotion, both monstrous and holy.

Daniel swallowed. “Do I frighten you?”

The question hung in the air on the breeze, rustling through the wildflowers back toward the orchard like whispered prayers. Evelyn counted the graves of the ten men. Ten declarations of love. Marcus laughed at Daniel. Called him pathetic. The type of husband women betray because they’re weak and won’t do anything about it. Marcus was wrong. Daniel wasn’t weak. He would do anything…for her.

Evelyn walked to Daniel, so close their bodies almost touched. Her fingers found his trembling hand. She squeezed tighter and brought her lips to his ear. “No.” The word was no more than a breath. “All this time I thought you never cared.” She looked out at the graves. “All of this, you did for me.”

“I love you, Evelyn.” Tears welled in Daniel’s eyes. “I always have.”

Evelyn rested her head on his shoulder. “I know.” She felt his arm around her waist. “I love you too.”

Stars shone overhead as a husband and wife stood together in an old clearing behind an orchard. Beneath them, the dead kept their silence.