Rather than Resenting: Ch. 19

Hearing the Truth

Notes:

This is one of those chapters that was supposed to include two parts: the part you are about to read and the part that is now the next chapter. But once again, it got too long 😅

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It was several hours before Sara managed to get back to her bedroom — after leaving Evnia and Elquinn preoccupied with “NiNi”  — to settle Cerlon down for a nap in his actual crib. She had refrained from doing so for the most part during the first two weeks, mostly because she was torn between holding him close to her so he would know she was there and have a need to live, and the fact that it would be easier for him to breathe well if he was laying on his back. With the near-catastrophe that had happened two days earlier, she had decided the crib might be safest in the long run. 

Still, she felt the need to “wean him” off from being held by her or Nia or Janner (when he was around and could manage it) constantly. She was starting with small, quiet intervals, where she was nearby, able to reassure him if he began to fuss. He hadn’t slept much outside of her arms the first day, but she was hoping the time would slowly increase, even if only to ensure that he didn’t stop breathing unexpectedly. 

She shuddered at the remembrance of it and refrained from holding Cerlon tighter, instead quickly kissing his forehead as she walked toward the room. She was so thankful that he was still with them. Unfortunately, it also meant that his death would be even harder if it came on suddenly, now that everyone had become so close to him. She prayed it wouldn’t happen, not then, not ever. He had held on for as long as he had up until that point, and maybe, just maybe, the next time Doctor Jebsun came to check on him, he would have better news.

When Sara turned the knob and pushed the door open to the bedroom, she felt her heart jump into her throat a bit, a mix of surprise, fear, and love mingled together in a little bunch. A smile crept onto her face after a moment and she crept forward, laying Cerlon down in his crib and willing him with a gentle stroke of his head not to fuss or make any sort of loud noises. He squirmed a bit, screwing his eyes into frustrated little crinkles, but decided to comply after a few moments. 

Sighing with relief, Sara went around to the side of the bed and slowly lowered herself to the floor, feeling a lovely warmth, albeit one tinged with concern, spread through her at the sight of Janner, fast asleep, curled up, and leaning against their mattress. He was turned toward her, and she could have sworn the corners of his mouth were curved upward in the slightest bit of a smile. He seemed more content than he had been for certainly months, maybe even years, and she relished it, holding the thought of it close. 

He didn’t look as though he would wake up if she moved a little louder than she intended or if she rested her hand on his shoulder, but Sara preferred not to risk it. Instead, she rose silently and got a book (In the Thick of the Night, by Idilia Arptor) from the bookshelf in their room before settling down next to him again. 

She opened it and turned to page one, then began reading. 

It was several chapters (though truly, not all that long of a time later) when she heard Cerlon fussing in his crib. Sara laid the book down beside her and stood as quickly as possible, quickly making the short trip toward him. 

“Shh,” she whispered softly, cradling him close after she had picked him up. “You’re alright. Are you hungry?”

She did not receive an actual response to that, as Cerlon was not quite capable of speaking, but she knew his diaper was not wet, nor was he tired, plus he was receiving attention at that moment. With all those considered, “hungry” was a safe bet, though in her heart of hearts she wasn't sure if he would actually nurse or not.

She retrieved her thin cover from where it was draped across the headboard of the bed and situated both herself and Cerlon in the armchair that, while a bit farther away from Janner than she would have liked — if she could have, she would have wanted to be in actual contact vicinity to reassure him in his sleep if necessary, but as it was, that would be impossible — was most convenient for successfully feeding Cerlon and ensuring he didn’t accidentally choke or anything else that could prove detrimental to his livelihood. Unlike so many times before, there was no pause in between when she settled him into place and when he started nursing. It was immediate, so wonderfully, naturally immediate and so relieving that tears came to her eyes.

“Thank You,” she whispered, tears of joy spilling onto her cheeks. “Thank You so much.”

By the time Cerlon decided he was full and he had been placed back in his crib again, Sara was completely baffled regarding two things: one, that he had actually woken up hungry, asked to be fed, and had eaten as he was supposed to; and two, that Janner was still sleeping, especially when considering that Evnia had tramped in about fifteen minutes earlier, speaking in volumes that would have woken the dead (or at least made the deaf very aware of what she was saying) that yet somehow did not wake him. Or Cerlon, for that matter.

So it’s a mixture of surprise, concern, and gratitude fluttering around inside my heart, Sara decided. She was shocked that Janner was asleep on the floor, concerned about what had been so powerful as to make him fall asleep on the floor — in that moment she had the genius idea of checking for anything missing from the sleeping herbs she had stashed away in high corner of the bureau, but none were missing — and grateful that he was actually sleeping for quite a long time, and he didn’t look as though he was fighting monsters in his sleep.

Other than her worries, Sara counted it a victory. And her fears were assuaged just a few minutes later, when he finally stirred and blinked the world back into focus. 

“Hello,” she whispered, moving to sit beside him again. Once she was on the ground, she grasped his hand. “How did you sleep?”

Janner smiled at her in response. “Well,” he murmured, his voice soft as if it was trying to convince itself to wake up. 

Sara couldn’t resist laughing lightly. “That’s the first time in a while, isn’t it?” He nodded but stayed quiet. 

Looking into his gray-green eyes fondly, Sara saw something in them that, like restful sleep, had been gone for quite a long time. She saw peace and contentment, still tinged with the normal worry that would always be there, no matter what happened, but none of the glinting hardness that had flickered on the edges, barely noticeable except in certain moments, but lurking nonetheless, persisted. It had disappeared completely. 

And as much as she wanted to move her mouth and force the words, “What changed?” to come out, there was a part of her that held back, worried that Janner would be offended or something like that (though in hindsight, considering that they had been married for seven years and had known each other for over thirteen, it was a bit ridiculous).

He answered the question for her, though, albeit in a longer fashion than she had expected. “I need to tell you something,” he said in an unexpectedly clear voice that had no traces of lingering sleep tucked inside of it and straightened himself quickly, sitting upright. She thought she saw a wince of pain flicker across his face at the rapid motion, but it was gone in a second. 

“Are you alright? What is it?” she asked, the first question directed at the wince, the second focused on what he wanted to tell her. She hoped desperately that whatever he said in response to the second question would be along the lines of what had plagued him over the past few days, maybe even for longer than that.

Janner closed his eyes for a moment, pulled his hand away from hers, opened them again, looking down at his hands that were already clasped tightly together, almost of their own accord. He continued staring at them, and Sara waited patiently. She would wait for the rest of her life if that was what was needed. 

Still not looking at her, he finally began to speak after several minutes. “Amrah arrived a day or so ago,” he started, pausing as if trying to figure out where to go from there. By the time he had decided, his brow was furrowed, either in confusion or concern, Sara was unsure. “And all the emotions and everything had been there for a while, but that on top of Cerlon nearly dying that morning—” his voice trembled, and his left hand paused in its task of twisting into the right to rub his face. He cleared his throat after a moment and went back to twisting his hands together. “I– I couldn’t handle it.” He laughed mirthlessly at that, as if he was remembering his inability to handle everything.

Sara felt her heart breaking, wishing beyond all possibility that she had at least been there. Maybe she could have taken some of the burden away, even if it was only a fraction of it. “Do you need help?” she asked, her voice quiet and gentle, hoping she would not convey any sort of forcefulness or insistence in her tone. She took his left hand in both of hers this time, grasping it between them.

Janner surprised her by actually considering it for a moment and responding with a quiet, “Maybe, but that’s not what I really want to tell you.”

“What is it, then?” she asked gently, unable to deny the fact that her hopes had been raised by what appeared to be the trajectory of the conversation.

He took a breath, stared intently at his right hand that had not been blanketed by her grasp, and muttered something that sounded akin to, oh, let’s just get this over with.

“I harbored all this bitterness and anger toward her for so many years, ever since Kalmar—” he paused and swallowed, and when he spoke again, his voice was thick. “Please don’t hate me,” he whispered. “Please, please don’t. I know it was wrong and I know it’s selfish to ask you to do anything, considering I kept a secret from you for six years but—”

His voice had been bordering on frantic all the while he spoke, and he had wrenched his hand away from her grasp soon after he began speaking, only to put it to work wringing itself almost to bits.

“Janner,” Sara made a point of speaking firmly this time and grasped his shoulder tightly for extra emphasis. “I don’t hate you. Why would I hate you? Am I disappointed that you were furious with her for so long and didn’t bother to tell anyone? Yeah, and I’m even a little frustrated about that.” He shifted uncomfortably, but Sara wanted that to last as little time as possible, so she moved on quickly. “But you’re telling me now, and that’s what matters. So do you want to talk about it?” She looked at him expectantly, hoping it came across as being a “gentle expectantly.”  

He stopped fidgeting then and looked directly up at her, his eyes alight as if he had just remembered something glorious. “I’m not angry with her anymore,” he said softly. 

Sara felt herself smiling broadly without meaning to in the slightest, and she resisted the urge to whoop aloud. Perhaps Janner wasn’t expressing it loudly, nor was he acting particularly thrilled, but the way his eyes shone was enough to make warmth flood throughout her heart and mind.

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive her?” she asked suddenly, almost before she had processed the words to make sure they were “safe.” She held her breath for a moment as something flitted across his face. 

“I think so,” he eventually replied. “But I’ll need His help.”

Sara smiled at him. “Don’t forget: we’re here too. You can talk to me if you want, or Artham, or Kalmar, or your own mother, for that matter!”

Janner cracked a smile. “That’s an awful lot of people to tell everything to.”

She giggled in response. “Oh, Janner,” she whispered sweetly and hugged him, then loosened her grip when he flinched a little bit. “It’s just because we love you.” 

*****

Notes:

So, from here on out (most) chapters will be happy! Yay 🥳