Shape of the Sun

The Untethered Vulnerable

In the end, there was only so far a person could go. Rajkumar didn't think he could walk that mile.

"Anisha...w-why..."

Anisha's form, lying on the bed, was so pale and fragile and enveloped by that oversized hospital gown. Her eyes were red and swollen, her face was wet with tears. The sight only made it harder than it already was. It was a miracle that he had stepped in, not to talk of edge closer.

"Oh, God. Anisha, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He was crying, a hand pressed to his lips even as he lowered himself unto the guest chair, the black leather folder falling to the ground beside it, freeing his other hand up to grasp the guardrails so that his knuckles turned white. Somehow, it felt wrong to touch her.

"Raj," her voice was hoarse, "did you...ever love me?"

At that moment, Rajkumar tried looking at her face to see what kind of expression she had on - but he couldn't. The tears blurred his vision.

Still, he knew what he should say if only to make this easier.

No.

But that wouldn't be honest, would it?

"...Yes. Yes, Anisha."

He had loved her once in his youth and springtime innocence. That love had vanished as fast as it has come, unfitting for his present self.

They had hurt each other so much.

"Anisha..."

Pah. Pah.

She slapped him twice with all the strength that she could muster, cutting him short. Rajkumar was in a daze, a hand on his cheek.

Anisha was crying too.

"Y-You bastard...you only married me for the money, right? Look at me in the eyes and damn say it!"

And he did. He looked at this pale, hysterical woman and nodded. Rajkumar couldn't tell the feeling in his heart right now except that it was an oddity in such a moment.

It felt like defensiveness and in line with his persona. Or perhaps that was just it, this burgeoning will not to be buried under all this blame and alone. But one look at her state doused that will like a cold bucket of water poured over fire. Save that, the first thing he'd have pointed out was how her lies, theft, and reckless drug use with zero recovery effort killed off any semblance of sanity being present in the tumult they had for so many years.

But he didn't. He remembered a face and didn't.

Anisha watched him pick the black folder off the ground and slowly rise to his feet. Rajkumar didn't look at her. Instead, his gaze was affixed to the folder gripped with both hands.

"I am sorry, Anisha for causing you great pain. I could have done better," he glanced at her, "and I want to do better. I know how cheap and worthless this is compared to what you need right now but I...I want to provide all the financial and emotional support that you need. I won't leave you alone, Anisha."

"Oh, Raj..." She couldn't quite finish, however.

"But, I...I have found a joy greater than anything in the world," he kept thinking of that face, "and I can no longer bring myself to be bound to a union we both pushed for under a cloud."

Rajkumar wiped the tears that streamed down his face with the back of his hand before going on. But they refused to stop, some spilling onto his green T-Shirt and the tiled floor. It was a confrontation with the vulnerable.

"Anisha. We...we both know there is nothing here. Anisha," he held out the folder, "please sign the papers. I am not asking for your forgiveness no, but there is only so much bad water we can hold. I am asking you to let me go not for me, but for us of our youth and springtime innocence."