The Worships Happening at Night

 Sometimes, when I was asleep, I would feel a hand playing with my hair. Tenderly tucking it behind my ear. Warm breath against my skin, and gentle kiss on my forehead.

Sometimes, I would hear my name spelled out like a reverent prayer in the midst of the night. A spell of love confession that I had never intended to hear.

Fingers playing with my own, intertwining in the deep of the night. Thumb caressing the band around my ring finger, before pressing the back of my hand to the lips.

Sometimes my hand would be put against the forehead. As if it was a sacred object that could put blessing onto the owner. And sometimes long eyelashes would just flutter against my knuckles. Hand tightened where our fingers tangled.

Sometimes I would like to act as if I didn't know the worship happening the night before on the next morning. Pretending that I spent the night in silent deep slumber instead of being disturbed by the welcomed reverence.

And my husband would act exactly the same the next morning. Warm greetings and a kiss on my temple before he goes to work. A hand gripling loosely around my own as if it couldn't bring itself to let go.

And sometimes I would like to just pretend I never knew any of his rituals when I was asleep. Pretend as if I didn't listen to his soft voice when he was murmuring devotion to my sleeping ears.

And sometimes, I would open my eyes when he took a deep breath against my hand. Opening my eyes when his own were closed. Eyebrows knitted in deep reverence as if he were in pain. Sometimes, I reached out and caressed the hair falling to his forehead. And his face would relax at the touch. Loosening the grip he has on my hand.

And sometimes, I would ask him if everything was okay. And some other times I would run my hand through his hair and let him relax under the touch.

On the times I do ask, though, he would look up at me with a gentle smile on his face, before darting down coyly as he said,

“I love you.

Much more than I ever realize”

As if it has grown much bigger and stronger than the last time I asked.

And the genuity in his voice and eyes shut me up from uttering a comeback. So, every time, I could only nod and kiss his hand back. Murmuring the same sentence back to his ear,

“I love you too.

Much more than you’ll ever know”