At Least They Have Each Other
Leslie flops on the couch in tears. Ben wanted to help her, comfort her, make it all better, but he couldn't. Her best friend had left to start a new life with her boyfriend and soon-to-be baby. He wasn't sure anything could comfort her for a while. Even the waffles she just ate with everyone at J.J.'s Diner didn't seem to do anything to ease the pain.
"I miss her already." Leslie mumbles into the couch cushion.
"I know, honey." He says, soothingly as he tentatively sits on the couch next to her sprawled out figure.
"Will the pain ever go away?" Leslie sits up and leans her head on Ben's shoulder.
"I don't know, Leslie." He rests his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them gently.
"Enough about me." She wipes her eyes and tries to put on her bravest smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. "How are you doing?" Leslie asked him.
Of course his very selfless wife would ramp down her feelings to see how he was doing. He should've known.
"Babe, I'm fine." He wasn't.
"You're lying." She sniffles.
"I guess I am a little." He's okay with that for now; he just wants to make her feel better.
She rolls her eyes at him, and they dampen again, like she just remembered Ann and Chris leaving Indiana.
Ben's hands move from her shoulders to her sides, gliding past her ribcage to her hips to pull her into his lap. Leslie buries her face into the crook of his neck and they sit there in silence.
"At least I have you." Leslie whispers, probably unaware that he even heard her.
"Ditto." He whispers back.
Her breathing changes, slowing to soft involuntary noises, and he realizes she's fallen asleep.
He's sleepy himself, it's been a long day, so he carries her into their bedroom, and they cuddle all night.
At least they have each other.