Timothy rushed to Anne's side with a pleading look on his face. He tried to reach for Anne's hand to stop her from packing her clothes.
"Let me explain. This is all a mistake, a misunderstanding. Anne, you have to believe." His hand slowly reaching for Anne's hand, he stopped midway as he saw Anne's face.
"It was all in vain," he thought. He knew Anne's temperament, once she had made up her mind, it would be difficult to persuade her.
Anne's face was furious as her gaze turned cold from her husband's pleading tone. She was breathing heavily as her chest heaves back and forth. She was trying to control her temper. She had said enough but her husband would not stop.
She wondered, what he was fighting for?
She already gave him his freedom. He could do what he wanted without the baggage that weights in his consciousness. He could do what he wants without caring for her.
"What more do you want?" She asked herself as she continued to calm herself.
Anne knew that her condition has only been a burden for her husband. She became incompetent as she could not move on her own for the past few months. Her husband needed to take care of her daily needs eating, bathing, changing her clothes, going for physical therapy. She knew how much he had sacrificed for their relationship. After months of therapy and not much progress, she gave up.
It hurts!
Physically and mentally.
The process was slow that she became frustrated with herself. In the end, she even started blaming her husband. Her body healed but the scars didn't, it reminded her of the coming days which is filled with misery and hardship. Each time she saw the scars in her body, she mentality crumbled.
Bit by bit.
Her body changed and along with it, her personality. Her once flawless body was covered with scars that would never heal. It affected her mind as she started wearing baggy clothes to cover her mutilated body. Since she did not finish her physical therapy, her body deteriorated. She could feel pain from time to time but ignored it.
She did not like how the people stared at her. No matter how hard she tried, they still push her down. She went into hiding and drinking, not showing herself to the public to avoid scrutiny. She had more time to think but it did not help. Nothing helped no matter what she did, aside from alcohol which helped her forget for a time. But it all comes rushing like a tide once the alcohol's effects is gone.
It was a vicious cycle, but there was nothing else she could do.
Timothy looked at his wife who was in a daze. He called her name softly, "Anne."
Anne's eyes focused on the sound as she regained her consciousness. This was not the first time that this had happened. Once in a while, her mind would wander and drift to some of her memories. She did not want to remember them but everything came like a vivid dream.
She finally thought of something as her eyes widen in disbelief. It was only for a second as she regained her focus on her husband after having this thought.
"Why did you do it, Timothy?" She asked coldly.
"It's not what it seems," Timothy said while looking sincerely at Anne's face.
Anne felt disgusted with her husband's ability to lie. He was lying to her face without a hint of remorse. "Did you look for another woman to give you what you desired?"
"What are you talking about?" Timothy asked perplexed.
"I'm disabled, incomplete, incompetent and worse of all…"
Anne paused for a bit as it took all the courage she had to speak the next line to her sentence. She gripped her hand and felt the wedding ring she was wearing. It felt cold to the touch, just like their marriage. Everything was cold and distant. She looked down at the ring before continuing her words.
"Because I can't give you a child," Anne said while tears streaming down her beautiful face.
She was broken inside and out. This was the reason she could not blame her husband for everything.
She knew she did not have everything to make her husband happy.
Timothy tried to console Anne with kind and gentle words but she did not listen. They only felt like buzzing sounds in Anne's ear. They meant nothing as they are empty words.
Just like their marriage that became empty.
Their house that was full of warmth was nothing more than a cold barren place.
The same with the ring she was wearing on her finger.
She looked at the ring and placed her finger in her mouth. She used her teeth to pry the ring off her finger with difficulty. She had not removed it in the past, even if her sponsors requested it from her. She never listened nor compromise but today was different.
She transferred the ring inside her mouth back to her hand and threw it at Timothy's face.
Sfx *ting ting cling clang*
The resounding sound of metal hitting the hardwood floor can be heard in the quiet bedroom.
The sound reverberated in their hearts. Not because of the sound but its meaning.
Timothy stood there shocked still by Anne's action. He knew what it meant which made it harder for him to comprehend the situation as everything happened so fast.
Their marriage is over.
Everything felt surreal to Timothy.
This was not supposed to happen.
This was not his intention.
Tears were starting to well up his eyes but he did not want Anne to see him being weak.
He turned around before speaking, "I'll leave, it will be hard for you to move to another place. It's late, it will be dangerous for a woman to walk around the streets at this hour." Once he finished saying his piece, he left.
Sfx *thump thump thump*
Unlike the fast and heavy footsteps earlier, the sound was weak and slow. As if the person walking did not want to leave.
As if he was dragging himself, trying his best to move one step at a time.
Sfx *eeek chink*
Anne heard the closing of the door. Timothy did not forget to lock the door when he left.
Was that his last act of kindness?
Anne could not control her emotions anymore as she started crying out loud. Crying like a child who was lost and got separated from her mother. She was holding everything inside, to act strong, to not falter, to prove that it was the last straw but everything was a lie.
She did not want to be separated, but she was confused.
She was confused and afraid that their marriage was nothing more than a farce.
Was she trying to protect something that did not exist anymore?
She wondered when was the last time they were together and said, "I love you."
She could not remember.
Even the last time they ate together.
She could not remember.
It all started when she was a little better, Timothy started to leave for work while she was still sleeping and returned home so late that she was asleep. Her food was composed of take-outs from fast food deliveries.
When was the last time she cooked?
But then she remembered her missing arm, she laughed dryly at herself for having such thoughts.
What was the use of remembering, if it will only hurt her in the end? She wiped away her tears with her sleeve.
She started taking steps to the living room, her legs hurt from that bit of walking but she continued…
Every walk she took her feet were stepping on something.
Sfx *clink crush*
She headed towards the kitchen and opened the refrigerator's door.
The light spread out coming from the refrigerator as she saw the contents.
Nothing…
One-third of it was filled with booze and alcohol. She took a bottle and an opener from the kitchen drawer as she limped to the couch where she usually sat, in front of her laptop.
It seems her feet hurt more compared to before.
She slumped down on the couch.
The laptop was facing the couch were she usually positioned herself. It seems Timothy returned it back to its original place.
Was this also a part of his kindness?
However, she shook her head trying to remove those feelings in her heart once she saw the picture on the laptop.
Yes.
She needed to remind herself constantly, so she would never forget.
She placed the bottle between her legs. This was the only way she could open the bottle.
Sfx *chink*
Once the bottle was opened, she put it on top of her lips and chugged down on the contents.
It was cold.
She felt a chill inside her body.
But she did not know if it was because of the alcohol or the feeling of being alone.
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