His actions all felt rather meaningless now. The white flowers looked to be mocking him, lying on the couch. The wine sneered at his complacence. He dropped with a thump on the couch. The keys slipped off his quivering fingers and clanked onto the marble floor. A shiver ran down his spine. Did what he’d feared actually come true?
The note, now lying at his feet, shouted yes. No explanation, no apology, no goodbye – it was only to apprise him that she’d left. A wave of despair sprinted through his mind. Rattle of the keys still echoed in his ears. His fists clenched. The lilies, the red wine and the keys – he’d got everything planned. He’d kept his promise. But she’d broken hers.
He grabbed the key off the floor and hurled them at the window across the hall. Those belonged to the brand new car he’d bought for her. A lump in his throat stifled him. Looking up, he caught a glimpse of his face on the window sash, lines of crack cutting through his reflection. He felt a jolt – a sudden pricking realization – flowing through his body. And the words from her note floated before his eyes.
I’m leaving. No. It wasn’t planned. This morning when I woke up, like any other day, I wondered what I could do to keep you happy. I was nervous as to what I should wear, how I should present myself so you wouldn’t lose your temper on this special day. I wore the blue dress you gifted me, the fragrance of your choice, the lipstick shade you like the most and a thick layer of kohl round my eyes…just the way you like it. But then as I looked into the mirror, my body shook in fear. How were the scars on my face still so prominent? Would they never heal? Not in this lifetime?
Written by Chirasree Bose