A loud cry startled Desirée so badly that she jumped up off the couch before she had the cognitive ability to stand. Her legs folded under her and as she fell to the floor her senses caught up with her as she heard the awful cry again. It was coming from the bedroom!
Scrambling to her feet she tore down the hallway and rushed into the bedroom expecting to see Victor in the process of being tortured to death. He was alone, but even in the mostly dark room she could see that all was not well.
He had a fever and he was tossing all about on the bed to the point that she feared that he would hurt himself. Going to him she shook at his arm, “Victor! Victor wake up!”
But there was no waking him from the grips of the delusional nightmare that had him enthralled within its grasp.
There was no way that she was going to leave him like this. Crawling onto the bed she did her best to scoot in behind his head and stop his movements.
Even in his weakened state though he was so much more powerful than her. She tried anyway and finally managed to lock his torso to be relatively still by sliding her legs down both of his sides and keeping his head locked still against her stomach with both arms.
Sweat was pouring off him in rivulets and both the sheets and her own skin were drenched from his cast off perspiration. He was literally burning up!
Doing her best to hold him steady she prayed. She prayed for the infection is his wound to be healed. She prayed for his tormenting dreams to be gone. She prayed for his soul. She prayed for many things even as at the first her shy love for this big man became something more fierce of nature as she contended for both his health and peace of mind.
It seemed odd, but this man was the only reason other than God that she was still alive. Even stranger was that she couldn’t imagine wanting to be with anyone else in life other than this man.
He understood her as few did and he cared for her needs intuitively. He was a gentleman and yet the strongest of warriors.
She’d never felt safer or more in love with a man than she did with him. Rocking back and forth she whispered cajolingly into his ear to get him to be more at peace and forsake the unseen war that he was embroiled in.
He had calmed down considerably, but not all the way. Her prayers and whispered words of love gave way to a prayer song of the spirit, in which she gave up trying to form an understanding of any of the words that God’s Spirit in residence within her was saying to the Father on behalf of her.
She gave the Holy Spirit full reign over her voice and before long Victor went absolutely still. Glancing down to his face with concern she cried out softly, “Oh Honey!”
He was crying. Of all things she’d never expected to see of this man it was this and seeing it caused her heart to hurt.
Swinging her leg over his head she scooched down in the bed on his good side and more or less pulled him onto his side to press his face against her chest, as she rubbed at his sweaty back and head with all the consolation she could muster.
“Oh Honey don’t cry. It’s not that bad. I promise. You’ll see. Shhhh…….” He continued to cry though and she held him through it.
She held him long after she even felt his fever break. In a way she would gladly hold on to him forever.
He was like her and she could understand him. They had their differences, but they had both had to survive in the same corner of hell and thus there was a lot that they held in common.
He hadn’t quite completed the journey yet though and more than anything in life right now she hoped that he soon would.