Adam's Wife

11; Lethal Thorns

A worthy wife is the crown of her husband. — Proverbs 12:4.

❥⁠˙⁠๑

Her

The enclosed walls envelop her with silence. Among them, only the sound of her sobs reached her ears. Unfortunately, too, she is not mindful of them. The only thing that is running through her mind is the guy she loves deeply. So deeply that now the news of his union with someone else is an arrow stabbed into her heart.

An arrow that she is afraid to shove out and breathe peacefully.

Hugging her legs while her forehead touches her knees, she doesn't want even the air of her room to witness her pathetic state.

Darkness is her closest friend for now. Pain is the only thing that embraces her. The intensity of the same pain is like thorns bruising her skin and she is too helpless to speak.

A soft knock jerks her back and then the call of her mother as she hears her asking in concern, "Lena baby, can I come in?"

Her heart slams against her ribcage. With big eyes, she stares at the locked door of her room through the darkness, debating whether she should let her mother come in or not.

It is not that she is afraid to cry before her mother. This has happened countless times. Nor is she afraid to tell her why she is crying.

But a corner of her heart isn't ready to let her mother come in. She wipes away her tears, saying, "I'm going to sleep, Mama."

Her mother doesn't answer her back. She waits for a moment while tears still escape her eyes. The pain in her chest is too much to bear, after all.

Minutes pass and then again, her mother says, "Let me come in, baby. I need to talk to you."

She sighs. The way her mother requests, she is too vulnerable to deny that lady. She loves her mother too much. She can't refuse her for anything. And by anything, she means it from the core of her very being.

Losing a battle inside herself, she nods to herself. She leaves her bed, arranging her skirt to cover her thighs. She wears her bunny slippers and walks to open the door.

Unlatching the metal lock, she pulls it just to witness her mother. Her soft jade green eyes and that sweet smile comfort her in a moment but as soon as the lady finds the almost devastating condition of her daughter, she gasps in raw concern.

"Lena, what happened? Why have you been crying?" She enters her room and pushes the door close behind her.

Her palms cradle her daughter's face as she looks into her eyes, searching for an answer. Those wine-red eyes only make her heart beat in worry more than she has ever received.

"You know, Mama. You do better than anyone!" She sighs, tilting her head. Her chin wobbles as more tears spill out. "He's getting married," she whispers, "Adam is getting married."

Her mother has lost words to console her daughter. She stares at her daughter for a while. Those tears leaving her eyes are nothing but daggers shoved deep into her chest. Her heart bleeds when her daughter cries. She has raised her daughter with utmost care. She's more dear to her than gemstones. Her daughter is the apple of her eye. She's the answer to her prayers. How can she see her crying?

"Lena..." She swallows, "That's wrong." She wipes those fat tears. Evalena peers at her, a frown on her face. Her mother repeats, "So wrong. He's someone else's."

And like any typical child, Evalena frees her face and walks over to her bed, her steps exhausted.

"I know! I know I have no right! But I love him!" She announces, plopping down on her bed. "I'm in love with him, Mama. Like crazy. Oh, Mama, I want him."