"If only it was red"

He was late, late again. And of course, it was not his fault, his work just overloaded him again.

But I knew it was a lie, and he knew that I was aware of it being a lie. The worst thing was that I had known for a long time. Yet we kept pretending that we were fine, as if we were just as much in love now as the day we were married. Susan keeps telling me to leave him, but I cannot, I mean he is my husband after all, how would I live without him, how could I?

I wore my red dress that night, we were going out to dinner with some of the men and their wives from his workplace. I was told to be pretty and to be the perfect wife, so that we would impress his boss. I had told him I would wear red, yet he chose his blue tie, it was as if he wanted me to fail.

I looked at the clock still 30 more minutes before we had to leave, I wanted to ask him to change his tie, but I knew I did not hold that power - not anymore - and the last thing I wanted was a fight before going out. He turned the pages of the newspaper again, never had a small sound made such a little thing mean so much. I started playing the piano, it was the only solitude I had in my lonely world, I tried to make an effort not to turn fully away from him, simply because I knew he would not like it if I did. As the music filled the room, I felt my body relax and I could sense that he did too. He had always loved it when I played, which was the reason why I had made it a mission to become good, to become good enough for his standards. As I played, I let the music say what I could not say, what I would not say, I hoped and begged that he would listen to my prayer, however as always, my music failed to make him listen, to make him hear me, because he would not let himself do just that.

He was never a cruel man, never had been before and never was after either, he was strewn and determined, he was a man my father could be proud of. It was I that was lacking, I was the one who did not measure up to him. It was my fault our marriage was falling, and it was my fault when I lost our baby in my womb, I knew he blamed me even though he never said anything, deep down I could feel it, feel his change and his detachment from me and from us.

He placed the newspaper on the table, stood up and reached his hand out to me, it was time to leave. I reluctantly left the piano and stood up, my legs felt heavy, almost as heavy as my heart and I knew it would be a long night.

He helped me put my jacked on and not a second later where we sat in the car. We were on our way to a dinner party and to another world where everything was fine, where we were fine.

As the streets we had passed flashed before my eyes, all I could think about was the blue tie.

His blue tie hanging around his neck mocking me, making me wish, if only he still belonged to me, if only it was red.