He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

He only loved me on some days.

Sometimes for weeks at a time. Sometimes for months. Sometimes only a few moments.

~

It was a Friday afternoon, the kind accompanied by a wild Spring breeze, the smell of blooming flowers and the triumphant feeling of making it through another week of boring monotonous nine to five work.

I was curled up on the soft couch in the loungeroom, snacking on Maltesers and watching Gossip Girl on the tv in front of me. In the back of my mind I was wondering what I always did on a Friday. Would this weekend be filled with laughter and affection and warmth, or nonchalance and distance and chilled exchanges?

I heard footsteps on the path outside our house and turned at the familiar sound of a key turning in the lock. The door opened, a second away from revealing the answer to my weekly mystery.

Shaun's tan face was half filled with a huge smile. "Hey Annie," he said fondly, his voice filled with the kind of euphoric contentment I'd first fallen in love with.

I felt the muscles in my body relax. He only called me 'Annie' and not 'Annabella' on the days he loved me. I gave him a small smile in response. "Hey. Good day?"

He nodded dismissively. "Let's go to the beach," he said, dropping his bag at the door and crossing the room to greet me, pulling me to my feet and tugging me into the kitchen like an overexcited puppy.

I frowned. "I thought you said you wouldn't have time this week." I'd already unpacked the bag I'd started organising.

"Did I? Oh well, I changed my mind. Let's go." He opened the fridge hurriedly and handed me a can of Coke as he popped open a can of Pasito. Hesitantly, I accepted it. I didn't even know when he'd bought it. He knew it was my favourite, but sometimes seemed to forget.

"When? Now?" He was always like this. One day he'd be too busy and disinterested to pay me any attention, and the next he'd be ecstatic to see me, as if we'd only gotten married yesterday and not a whole year ago.

He grinned at me - the kind of smile that reached his midnight blue eyes and made the stars dance in them. "How quickly can you pack?" he asked, leading me out of the kitchen just as soon as he'd pulled me in.

Shaking my head I said, "You're going to change your mind again."

"I won't," he claimed earnestly, gentle hands cupping my face. "I promise." I hated when he did that. His promises were as fragile as a blown glass ornament, but they were also just as pretty. "I've already booked the accommodation."

I opened my mouth, ready to protest some more, but before I could he'd thrown open the door to my closet and pulled out handfuls of clothes, tossing them in my direction as if they were streamers and confetti. I squealed, batting them away.

"Come on," he persisted, "just say yes." He was already pulling my empty suitcase out from under the bed when he turned those deep blue eyes on me. His eyes were like a puppy's eyes too. You could never say no to them.

I sighed. It was tempting to question him more on why he changed his mind so quickly and extremely, but it was more tempting to say that one word he was so eager to hear. Afterall, didn't I want the weekend to be filled with laughter and affection and warmth?

"Okay," I answered softly. The way his face lit up was confirmation enough that I'd chosen well.

He let out a whoop and flung some more clothes at me. I tossed them back at him before packing as quickly as I could. "Where are we going?"

"Anywhere," he said delightedly. "Everywhere."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't hide my smile. On days like these he was always dramatic, but he was dramatically happy and it was unavoidably contagious.

'Everywhere' turned out to be just a few hours from home. We spent the car ride singing loudly and out of tune to Panic at the Disco and when he laughed at my jokes in-between songs, I couldn't help but hope desperately that he'd stay this way - happy and carefree and in love with me - forever, or at least for the rest of the weekend.

The hotel he'd rented was three stars, but it felt like more than five when he was like this, all charming and captivating and in love. He grabbed my hand and twirled me under his arm as if we were dancing on our wedding night again, me in a lacy white dress and him with a suit that didn't quite fit his casual personality. I laughed, wishing it was always like this and he gazed at me, with a kind of awe covering his features that I was painfully aware was only ever temporary.

He bought me fish and chips and we ate it on the beach, making futile attempts to shield it from the blowing sand. Further out, the waves were crashing like ships and roaring like thunder. We watched it distractedly like two normal lovers and not a woman whose love never wavered and a man whose love changed with the weather and the day and all the little variables that shouldn't matter but somehow seemed to.

Once we'd finished our food, he jumped up, pulling me to my feet after him. "Let's play tag," he suggested, tone excited and eyes filled with light like the moon's. I shook my head but laughed and chased after him when he kissed me and said I was 'it'.

This is what I'd thought it would always be like, married to my Shaun. Constantly flying on the wings of childlike joy and bulletproof bliss. Some days it was. Some days my cheeks hurt from smiling and when I wrapped my arms around him, I thought I might be like Atlas, holding the whole world.

But not every day.

When Shaun checked his phone, his face dropped, and so did my stomach.

Some days my heart hurt from loving and when he stood beside me, I wondered if maybe, we weren't even living in the same world. Maybe the stars in his eyes marked the space between us.

When his jaw tensed and he silently typed a reply I prepared myself for the cold, aloof man I knew would inevitably take his place. Our marriage was a constant game of sooner or later and all I could ever do was hope for the later.

But when he looked up at me, his face was still filled with tender devotion and I almost let out a sob of relief. I hadn't known how much I needed this weekend but when Shaun tucked his phone back in his pocket and took my hand, I leaned into him, letting relief seep from me, finding comfort in the warmth of his corduroy jacket.

~

We spent the weekend laughing, filled with affection and warmth. Shaun woke me up at dawn each morning and we went swimming in the freezing ocean, tumbling under waves together and helping each other up amongst the sea spray. At night we went for walks along the beachfront and when I told stories and jokes, he listened, with unwavering attention and an unmistakable emotion dwelling in his eyes. An emotion that should've stayed there every day, not just some. An emotion that should've stayed long after this magical weekend. An emotion that stayed written across my face every single time I looked at him. An emotion that I knew would leave his own face... sooner or later.

~

On the drive back, Shaun turned the music down as he squinted at the road, claiming he needed it quieter so he could concentrate. I figured that meant me too, so I didn't talk much.

"Can you pass me my sunglasses Anabella?"

As I wordlessly did as he'd asked, I thought back and tried to figure out when he'd switched up this time. He'd been playfully messing up my hair and laughing at my attempts to swat his hand away when he'd excitedly suggested we buy some churros. But when he'd walked around the corner after buying them, he was quieter and his eyes seemed darker - no longer full of the night's stars. Maybe there'd been a long line or something. I'd decided long ago it was best not to waste time wondering.

My churro hadn't tasted as good as it had the day before. Plus, he'd forgotten to get the chocolate dipping sauce. I'd decided not to say anything. Not about that, and not about much else either.

I spent the car trip home staring out the window, missing the man beside me; the one who'd been completely different just hours before.

~

The next afternoon I sat in the loungeroom, drinking a can of Coke I'd gotten out of the fridge and watching the news Shaun had got up on the TV. He was wordlessly sipping his coffee and listening as the reporter droned on and on about a politician getting assassinated in their own home just yesterday.

"Lot's of crime around now, hey?" I said solemnly. I couldn't care less about the news, especially some random politician I'd never heard of before. Shaun knew that. If it had've been a good day, he would've laughed at me, maybe even thrown a cushion across the room at me. Instead, he just grunted, not taking his eyes off the TV.

I spent a few moments studying him then. His blonde hair looked like honey in certain light, falling back from his face in waves, like sand dunes at the beach. His cheekbones and the lines of his face were soft, but at times like this when he was concentrating, they seemed sharper, as if someone had changed the settings in a photo. I didn't think I'd ever be able to understand how the same gentle face could just as easily be almost devoid of emotions.

I sighed. I clearly wasn't getting anywhere with conversation. I never did when he was like this. Instead, I went to my room, hoping that when he came in to join me, he'd look at me with love in his eyes again. By the time I'd fallen asleep, he still hadn't come to bed.

The next morning, I woke up alone.

~

When I came home from work the next afternoon, I was greeted with my name called out in a sing-song voice. "Annie!"

Annie. I wanted to smile, but more than that, I wanted to cry.

"How was your day?" Shaun asked, grabbing me around the waist, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around.

"Fine," I mumbled.

He handed me a Coke and said, "Catch," tossing a Malteser up in the air. I batted it aside and stepped around him, making my way to the bedroom.

He trailed after me. "Why only fine?"

I spun around to face him. "Maybe because I spent all day wondering..." I trailed off. You couldn't fight with Shaun when he was like this, not really. It was like trying to stop the sun from shining, you couldn't. But fighting with him when he was acting loveless was pointless too. That was like trying to summon the sun in the middle of the night. You couldn't do that either.

"Wondering what?" he asked, head tilted and voice soft, gentle - all the things it hadn't been yesterday.

"Why do you only love me some days Shaun?" I whispered. It was a question I'd asked a million times silently and a dozen times out loud. I'd never gotten a good answer and I knew now would be no different.

His shoulders slumped, something like remorse and guilt dimming the stars in his eyes as he reached out to me. I stepped away and he sighed, no longer the Shaun that was filled with uncontained excitement, but not cold hollow Shaun who kept breaking my heart either.

"I love you every day Annie." He said the words like an oath, like another breakable glass ornament; the prettiest on the shelf and the closest one to falling. "Some days you just can't see it."

Tears filled my eyes, gathering there like raindrops waiting to fall amidst a storm. "You lie so well," I murmured. And then he held me, and I let him, because I was always helpless when it came to Shaun's sporadic love.

~

Shaun loved me for the rest of that week. I savoured every moment of it; a little kid making the most of a packet of lollies.

When the love left his eyes again, they stayed empty for a month. He almost always fell asleep first during those times. I kept tossing and turning, unsure if the sleeplessness that clung to me was because of the summer heat, or because I missed Shaun's love like some kind of hopeless addict.

One of those nights, when he was shirtless, with his back to me, his chest heavily rising and falling, I traced my finger along his skin. I'd memorised it like a map.

There was the jagged scar that protruded from his skin just above and to the right of his left hipbone. If Shaun was a map, that would be the river, I'd always thought, especially since he'd gotten that scar at the river near his childhood house. I still didn't understand the specifics of it.

Then, there was a constellation of freckles splattered across his right shoulder blade. They looked like the work of an artist flicking their paintbrush. I'd always thought they were the sky in the map that was him.

My favourite was the tiny birth mark just to the left of his spine. It was so faint you could only see it in certain light. Right now, with the curtains closed, shutting out the moonlight, the room was too dark to make it out.

I fell asleep wishing I could map out his heart, but knowing I couldn't, because it was constantly changing, like the clouds in the sky.

~

Shaun came home at midday.

He was bleeding.

I watched him take off his shirt and reveal the deep cut that ran across his chest, before he realised I was there.

He swore. "You're supposed to be at work Annabella."

I didn't bother to explain that I'd come home sick. It didn't seem important. I stopped gaping at him and said, "What the hell happened? Are you alright?"

He grunted. "Fine. I just need to clean the wound and dress it."

He turned away and that's when I saw it.

A gun.

It was tucked in the back pocket of his jeans. Now it was my turn to swear. "Why the hell do you have a gun Shaun?"

He didn't even look at me as he said, "None of your business Annabella. Just keep your mouth shut about it."

Anger rose up in me, almost completely washing away the concern I felt from seeing the blood soaked t-shirt and wound stretching along his chest.

"Tell me right now why you have a gun Shaun," I demanded, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around.

He tensed under my touch. "Or what?" There was an animosity in his eyes that didn't belong in my Shaun. I stepped back but didn't back down.

"Or I'll go to the police."

"No you won't," he insisted, but a look of alarm flashed across his face.

"Yes, I will."

"Don't you dare." His tone was tight, his features drawn tighter and for a second all I could think was that he looked nothing like the Shaun I fell in love with.

"Or what?" I ground out.

An unfamiliar violence flashing in his empty eyes was the only warning I got.

That was when he hit me.

I was so shocked I barely heard or registered a second pair of keys turning in the lock outside.

I staggered back, raising a tentative hand to my cheek. Fleetingly, I wondered how he'd explain this when he went back to acting like he loved me... if he ever did.

The worst part was, when I searched his face, I couldn't even see a hint of remorse or regret for what he'd done.

Words left me. I stared at him. The front door opened.

"Annie."

Confusion turned to shock in the voice that sounded behind me. The same emotions must've played across my face when I turned. Behind me, stood... Shaun. He was wearing a white shirt, completely absent of blood, and a gentle look in his midnight blue eyes, completely absent of violence... until... he must've seen my face, where I'd been punched, I realised.

"What the hell did you do," he growled, his voice low and guttural. Before I could piece together what was happened, Shaun was marching past me and landing a punch on the other Shaun's face.

I stared in dazed confusion as the two Shaun's tumbled to the ground, grunting and growling as they both struck out with their fists and legs, fending each other off with the kind of moves I knew weren't instincts. They were fighting techniques.

Blood stained the floor where they fought - the white shirt Shaun and the shirtless one. I wasn't sure how long I stood there for before I yelled for them to stop. Neither heard or at least, neither responded. Not until I called, "Stop it and explain what the hell is happening or I'm going to the police right now."

They both froze then, before staggering to their feet. It was easy to tell which one was my Shaun. Even if it hadn't been for the identifying difference in attire or the way one rushed towards me asking, "Are you alright Annie?" It was in the way he looked at me, all adoration and reverence and... and love.

He raised a hand, reaching to lightly touch my already swelling cheek. I stepped back. "Explain," I ordered through clenched teeth.

Behind him, the other Shaun seemed to be treating his wound. My Shaun didn't even look at him. He didn't take his eyes off me. "That's my twin brother," he murmured, "Devon."

"What... but why... what..." I stammered, questions stampeding through my brain in a scribble of thoughts.

"We're assassins," Devon said simply, not looking up from the dressing he was covering his injury with.

Shaun took his eyes off me then, turning slightly to glare at his brother.

"What? She saw the gun and knows there's two of us constantly switching places. What were we supposed to tell her?"

The information flitted around my brain like a butterfly I couldn't seem to catch. Assassins? Was I dreaming? But then I remembered the things Shaun... or Devon, I supposed, had watched on the news. If I had paid attention I probably would've heard the News Reporter talking about assassinations each and every time.

Slowly, hesitantly, Shaun turned back to me. His face was shadowed with guilt. I wanted to slap it anyway. "We took turns completing each... job. We had to pretend there was only one of us."

I stared at him in shock and horror. "Why couldn't you just let him do the... the jobs while you stayed married to me? While you loved me?" I couldn't believe I was asking such a bizarrely ridiculous question.

"We trained to have different skill sets," Shaun explained simply.

I shook my head in disbelief. "So you let me marry two people?" I asked incredulously. "You let me think you only loved me some days?"

He lowered his head, shuttered eyes focusing on the ground in front of me. "I did love you every day."

"I just couldn't see it," I repeated his words from earlier, the pieces suddenly clicking into place. "Because you weren't here, and he was."

Shaun nodded. I turned to Devon. "Get out."

Devon glanced at Shaun questioningly. Shaun turned to his twin, rage burning in his usually gentle eyes. "Get out," he repeated, "And don't ever come near her again."

Devon opened his mouth as if to protest but must've seen something in Shaun's face, because a moment later he left the house silently.

"Annie-" Shaun started.

"Is Shaun even your real name?" I interrupted.

The look he gave me was answer enough. His guilt was painted across his face as vibrantly as his love always had been. "I'm sorry," he whispered, voice breaking.

I didn't bother asking what his real name was. I didn't want to know. He would always be Shaun to me. My Shaun.

I almost asked when Shaun had been with me and when it had been Devon. I almost went through all the significant moments in our marriage and demanded he tell me who was by my side. I almost asked about all the little moments too. But I didn't need to really, did I? Now that I knew the loveless man was Devon, I could recognise my Shaun anywhere, even in my memories. It was simple really, one of them made me happy and one of them broke my heart.

But standing in front of a guilt-ridden Shaun, I realised he'd been breaking my heart all along too.

"I love you," he said earnestly, deep blue eyes staring into mine with a warmth only he could obtain.

The sudden epiphany rolled over me like calm waves at the beach. An emotion only felt on some days is not love. Love is constant. Love is ceaseless. Love is always. If somebody only loves you some days, it isn't love.

"I love you every day Annie," he whispered - another fracturing glass ornament. But if somebody willingly lets your heart break, do they really love you? I knew the answer as surely as I knew I loved him.

"Will you let me stay Annie?" Will you still have me after all I've done?

I thought of the days I'd spent laughing and the nights I'd spent sleepless. I thought of the happiness Shaun had gifted me and the heartache he'd left me to feel.

I opened my mouth.

There was only one answer I could give.

______________

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