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When Death’s painted face peered in through the kitchen sink’s window, Luciano knew it would be best to ignore her. The method had become tried and true in the past few months, and as long as it kept working, he had no reason to not use it.
Besides, there were always more pleasant things deserving of his attention. This morning was full of examples: the soft couch cushions he let himself sink into, his favorite scent of black coffee wafting into the air, eggs sizzling as they hit a hot pan…
And of course, Yua. The only person who could rid his thoughts of Death.
There was something different she did each day that sparked his happiness. One day it was her pearly smile, and another it was how she swept him off his feet into a living room waltz.
Today, it was how her head bobbed to a tune playing on the radio beside her as she made breakfast.
Luciano laughed as he observed, fixated on the woman’s stomach as she walked towards the cabinets across the kitchen. “She’s hungry right now, isn’t she?”
“Hmm?” Yua raised an eyebrow as she got on her tip-toes to open a cupboard. Pulling out a pair of plates, she caught on and gazed at her belly. “Oh,” she smiled, “very. Especially since I…haven’t been eating much for the past few days.”
The man blinked. His vision went fuzzy as Yua went back to the stove. She passed the sink, forcing him to stare at the window again.
Death put a skeletal hand against the glass.
“Hello?”
Who said that? Luciano flinched. No, no. Focus on your surroundings. Don’t let this happen.
He took a deep inhale, forcing his brain to absorb his surroundings until he snapped out of his trance.
After glancing around, he realized the voice only belonged to a busy Yua plating food. Her back faced him, which gave him hope that she didn’t see what had occurred.
“Did I say something you didn’t like?” The woman asked playfully.
Luciano scrambled for a response. “I heard you. I…I just took a sip of my coffee,” he picked up his mug as if it made the lie more believable. “I’m sure she’ll be okay. Have you thought of any good names yet?”
“Not really,” she scraped the last remnants of egg from the skillet into a dish. “I usually like the ones you pick out more…but maybe you’re finding it harder this time because it’s a girl.” Something about her tone sounded like a challenge.
Grinning, the man folded his arms. “There’s one that I want, though I’m not sure if you would be too fond of it.”
Yua looked askance. “Why?”
“Guess.”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, "Because it’s not Japanese?”
“You got it.” Luciano suppressed his anxious breathing with another laugh. His fingers twitched.
“That doesn’t mean I won’t like it!” Yua chuckled, pouring herself a glass of water and bringing it over to the dining room table. “Okay, now I want to know what it is. Tell me.”
You’re an idiot; stop thinking about it. “I was thinking…‘Emelda’?”
The woman paused. She repeated the name and observed how it rolled off her tongue, knowing the enunciation wasn’t one hundred percent compatible with her Japanese accent. However, she nodded in approval.
“It might grow on me,” Yua grabbed the two food-filled plates from the counter, gesturing for her husband to come eat. “I came up with REDACTED and REDACTED, anyway, so it’s only fair that you….”
Luciano almost collapsed. His eyes rolled to the side of his head, making their way toward the sink’s window where Death still lingered. Her fists pounded, pleading to be let in the house. And as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t look away.
He was trapped. Worse, drowning. His chest hurt as if someone had dragged him to the ocean floor, the oxygen leaving his lungs and the pressure of the sea crushing his heart.
All he could do was watch. Death was feasting on the attention she craved. And all he could do was see how every barrier of safety he put up shattered into bits of glass.
Why did Yua have to bring them up? She didn’t have to say their names, did she?
No. It was his fault. Why’d he talk about the baby? He could have brought up anything else.
How did he mess up that badly?
Days seemed to pass before Luciano reclaimed his place in reality. Yet simultaneously, it didn’t feel any longer than a blink.
He exhaled, absorbing his surroundings. Yua had sat him down at the dining table, her gentle hand pressed firm against his beard. A tear rolled down her face.
“Are you okay?” She choked.
The man’s breath staggered at her warm touch. “Yes,” he straightened his posture, “I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I- I shouldn’t have brought them up.”
“No, no,” Luciano huffed, pinching his brow. “It’s okay, Yua. It was bound to be brought up, anyway. Only a few weeks have passed…” he added under gritted teeth.
If you cry, you won’t hear the end of it. I dare you.
“Are you sure?” Yua started shaking a little. “I’ll get the phone and dial-”
“I’m fine.” The man cut her off- something that he had never done before.
Yua jolted back in her seat, pulling herself away from her partner. She turned her head with uncertainty, lips parting but never fully opening to speak.
Luciano put a hand to his mouth. He reached out for his wife’s arm, desperate to be held. “That…I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
With hesitance, she accepted. “I forgive you. I’m sick and tired of this as much as you are.” There was a pause before she continued. “Do you think…..” her eyes fluttered to her stomach, then her husband.
He sighed, pulling her closer. “Whatever it takes.”
Relief flooded Luciano’s veins. Yua’s touch was the antithesis to Death’s cruelty, and he wished he could pause time and stay in this moment forever. Just the two of them. Together, preparing for the one thing he had been chasing his whole life:
A family.
As he imagined a near future where his dreams became true, he had a gut feeling the window was no longer occupied.