Chapter Text
It was 4 a.m. Bill lay awake, staring at the stars and the dawning morning through the living room windows. He couldn’t sleep. His back was aching from the lonely and uncomfortable couch, and it seemed to be impossible to get his head clear from all the thoughts. They kept refusing to leave him alone and let him get some sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes, his mind led him to his wife. She lay asleep in the bed they used to share, not too far away, just through that door by the end of the couch, and yet they were miles and miles apart all the same. He missed her. Missed holding her while falling asleep, missed feeling her warmth against him under the covers.
In the wee small hours of the morning
While the whole wide world is fast asleep
You lie awake and think about the girl
And never, ever think of counting sheep
During the day, it was easier to forget. Well, never really forget, since that nagging knowledge was constantly somewhere in his mind. But it was easier to not think about, at least. One day, people told him, it would be over. Forgiven. Forgiven, but never forgotten. It had become a mantra in his head, replaying until it drove him crazy, all at 3 a.m.
This night, like every night for the past weeks, that is how he lay: being plagued by how much he missed her. How, how he had been waiting for her. Waiting for her to get up and poke her beautiful head through that door, waiting for her to make a sound, to allow him to come back. He was waiting for her to call his name. To take him home.
But, he knew that would not happen. Not yet. Not tonight. It couldn't—it was too early for her to forgive; too early in the wee small hours of the morning.
When your lonely heart has learned its lesson
You’d be hers if only she would call
In the wee small hours of the morning
That’s the time you miss her most of all