Life After You And Me

Lost Memories

As the wind sings tunes of lost potential in the dusty autumn weather, I cautiously enter through the door of a once-familiar place.

I lay down the enticing bottle of Rosé on the marble kitchen counter and then take a moment to register my surroundings. The first thing I notice is a framed picture of my firstborn; Billy, cuddled up next to his dad. One couldn't possibly guess that the two didn't get along at first.

Billy couldn't stand the sight of Olli and vice versa - It was a miracle if you found them both in the same room.

The one time Olli got sick and Billy wouldn't leave his side. They remained inseparable from that day, until Billy left us due to old age. I don't think I ever recovered from that.

I continue to walk around the kitchen, only now realizing that I never truly got to admire the intricate details that perfectly melded together to birth the stunning finishings and design.

The house is still furnished. That surprises me because I was here when everything was getting packed up to be sold. In fact, I remember the day we found a buyer, it was the same day I had to pack my bags and figure out what I was going to do with my life.

It was the same day Zoe was conceived - in an empty house.

I have many questions but I don't know if I'll gain anything by asking them.

Still in the kitchen, I find myself standing in a spot that brings about a memory I've learned to drown out, except this time I seem to be out of practice. It doesn't take long for the graphic images to flash before my eyes, causing a numbness in my feet.

I slide down the side of the counter and soon surrender my body to the tiled floor.

A bang suddenly sounds at the door, causing my eyes to travel in the direction. A muscular figure makes his way toward me.

The man looks like he belongs on a displayed picture in an art museum. I know I'm married but I'm not blind. I mean it's not like he would find me attractive anyway, my own husband can't even bear the sight of me.

Concern is clearly laced in the depths of his chocolate eyes as he angles closer. He tries to hide it, likely because he doesn't want to trigger a defense from me.

"Hey, you didn't come out for your run this morning, and Jess said you didn't come to work. I came to check if you're... Izzy? Izzy, can you hear me?"

The incoherent mumbles merge with the elevated sound of my beating heart. My breath heightens as the sudden tears fog up my eyes. It doesn't take long for the lights to go out, and what only feels like seconds later, the lights are turned back on and I seem to be in a tub completely drenched.

The next words manage to slip through my lips,

"It's our anniversary today. 15th of September. We started dating exactly 8 years ago today. And this year marks 10 years since I've known him. We were happy once. Really happy. Now he can't even look at me."

"He doesn't touch me. He doesn't want me."

I blink out the newly forming tears and I'm soon back to the present - sitting on the cold tiled floor alone with tears streaming down my face. As soon as I stand, my attention immediately diverts to the bottle whose contents crave the warmth of my throat. I waste no time grabbing it.