Saturday had finally arrived, and it carried with it a big wave of suffocating anxiety. One gets married with the certainty it'll be forever, but forever may not always lasts a lifetime. When she got married, Frida visualized her late days by Henry's side, but funny life, it took them ten years to dissolve. Ten years of her life, then years of being loyal to a man whose only job for her was to be his right hand in his show. But finally, after months of battle, the last day of a the life they were meant to share was here. A cold and gloomy Saturday.
This morning upon waking up, Frida sneaked into the bathroom, opened the shower and cried. For the past, for the good moments she lived by his side and for the bad ones. Being in those walls threw her back to four months ago, when guilt reigned her.
Flashback.
Pitiful, she looked at her gloomy image in the mirror. The woman she saw was one totally different from yesterday. Who was she kidding? That woman was totally different from weeks, months ago. The difference today is that the blindfold fell off.
This morning, after escaping from her own house, Benny drove them to his apartment where he dedicated himself to take care of her internal wounds. God knew how good and perfect he'd behaved, the most human and caring possible. But she, among his displays of affection and despite her own relief of being back with him safe, felt totally broken.
"What did you do wrong?" She accused at her reflection in the mirror. Long dark circles decorated her eyes, she was paler than usual and her lips were beginning to get blue. The air conditioner was on and she uncovered, the cold had wrapped her body but she had no intention to move. Like catatonic.
Only one thing Henry asked her for; to be the perfect wife. She failed. She failed so greatly that he had to go elsewhere go find the attention and love he needed. A man. Did they ever have a chance? How could she possibly fight for their relationship when he'd chosen a man instead? She was unable to battle against it. Meanwhile, she played the protagonist of her own unknown charade. She was the joke of everyone in her house. What a shame she felt for herself.
<<<Frida?>>>
The knock on the door didn't startled her, his voice was a far sound. She didn't move. It hurt to even believe her existence. All she wanted was to disappear before having to face the judgement and cruelty of society.
<<<Frida? Babe, you okay?>>>
A lonely tear slipped down her cheek. Her lips trembled and she breathed in slowly. What did Benny see in her? Was she really attractive to him?
<<<Frida, open the door, please. What's going on? Open now.>>>
His knocks became harder and more desperate. He didn't deserve this anguish, this troubled life. Breaking the standstill, she grabbed the robe she'd brought and put in on. Benny kept insisting at the door until she opened it and threw herself in his arms. No one else could save her. She was in a shift about to drown, but he was the anchor that would keep her alive.
End of Flashback.
Nevertheless, she was ready to face Henry again, only one more time to their final chapter. She low-key wondered if he was fine, happy, finally enjoying his life. The resentful part of her mind fooled her and reproached her for considering even a slice of empathy for that man, but she couldn't keep any resentment, she wasn't that kind of person. In the end she'd loved him, Henry would be always be part of her story.
The big brown coat covered her belly as she fixed her image in front of one of the glass doors inside the civil court, a place where she had been at a couple of times before. The audience would take place in ten minutes. Benny was somewhere there getting them coffee, against his own reluctance to leave her alone. He wouldn't give up until she told him she needed a few minutes for herself, only that way he accepted, although grudgingly.
