2+2+2+1

25 1 0
                                    

The look on Aryan's face expressed pure horror.

Maybe I imagined it but for a moment I thought his eyes looked moist. He turned away before I could make sure whether he was crying or not.

I wanted to take back what I said. I wanted to jump 30 seconds back to slap my past me before saying that to Aryan.

"Aryan, I'm sorry-"

"One year."

"What?"

"This marriage. If that person hasn't died in one year, we will divorce."

"What if the person dies earlier?"

"Then we will break it off earlier. In any way, I'm asking you only for one year."

"O-okay. One year is fine. But I want to correct what I said earlier-"

"Don't, Edith. It's okay. I understand you. I'll try to improve myself but in exchange, I want you to talk to me more often. Tell me immediately when I trigger you, okay?"

"Okay, I will. But I didn't mean it like that. It's not only you, it's everything. I'm just overwhelmed..."

"Don't feel guilty for saying what you thought. I'm not angry or disappointed. To be honest, I'm even glad you told me." With a smile he reached his hands out to hold my face and this time I didn't push him away.

"You still look worried", he stated.

"Will things be awkward between us?" I had to ask.

"No, they won't. We just talked things out. It's completely normal for couples to do this."

Why do I feel like we didn't really talk things out? Why do I still feel so lost between his hands?

Because you lied.

"Edith, I'm glad to know you."

I frowned. "What?"

"I just had to say it." He let go of me and stood up.

"What are you doing now?"

He tilted his head. "Most likely, I'm going to sit in the kitchen and read. What about you?"

"I- I also want to read. I want to read with you."

Ari chuckled and gave me his hand. "Alright, come with me, darling."

Everything was alright again. Everything seemed to be so alright.

~

The next weekend, we visited Ari's grandparents.

To say I was nervous to meet them was an understatement. My bones were literally shaking as I sat on the train next to Ari, who was in his own world. We planned to stay only for a day and to go back in the evening.

We brought a bag with small presents with us that stood between his long legs as the train brought us to the countryside, where Ari grew up.

I didn't ask him much about his parents. After what he told me last week, I avoided this subject as best as I could, and I thought Ari did the same.

I fidgeted in my seat, feeling beyond uncomfortable in that tight long skirt I forced myself to wear.

Enviously, I peeked at Ari, who looked effortlessly classy in his linen pants and white dress shirt, tinted sunglasses covering his eyes.

I wished I could be like that. It took three different outfits and one mental breakdown to find something I could wear and I still felt like I didn't do enough.

The Soulless Souls Where stories live. Discover now