Love? A Disaster

♪ 41: Just...five more minutes ♪

2 minutes. A minuscule amount of time. Insignificant in the grand scheme of life. 120 seconds. In theory, something. In practicality, nothing.

But for him, 2 minutes was all it took to turn his life around.

He finally told her everything that was rightfully hers to know. Had always been. The uproar of his lies would never be able to smother the whispers of their truth.

The simple truth. Her. Dot. Full stop. The end. It was long overdue. It should have been the first thing he'd said to her after finding her that night but instead, his life played an ugly prank on him.

How different their lives would have been if he were a bit careful. From the get-go.

If he hadn't said all that to her. If he hadn't driven recklessly around the city. If he hadn't lost his mind. If—

He threw his phone on his bed and agitatedly covered his face with his palms. He loved her. Had always loved her. Despite the lapses in his judgment, despite his shoddy crisis management, despite the epitome of flaws he was, she was his everything.

And how did he tell her that?

Over a freaking 2 minute long call he made in his God-forsaken hospital room.

She deserved fucking better than that.

These words. They should have been their muffled proclamation, as they slow danced in their kitchen or snuggled on her favorite couch, sharing stories from the life they had spent without each other, maybe tangled in her preferred sheets after hours and hours of agonizingly slow yet fulfilling lovemaking because she loved to ruffle him that way, or a long drive on her favorite route, enjoying the street food she picked or—

A sad chuckle left his lips.

Endless possibilities. But where had he brought them? On the precipice of nothing. This beautiful truth became his attempt to come clean with her. Just like it became her attempt at preventing the imminent storm he summoned to their lives.

Did he even deserve anything after what he had destroyed?

He brought his trembling hands before him. In his frustration, he had failed to notice what his physiotherapist would term a win.

His wristwork was smooth when he hurled his phone on the bed.

He angrily bunched his hands in his lap and looked out the window. Now it's your wrist, then it'll be your legs. You and this wheelchair don't have a long stint anyway.

The words of his trainer reverberated in his ears.

Any other person in his place would be relieved if not ecstatic to realize he was making a proper recovery.

But all he wanted to do was scream into the void.

If only he hadn't been such an asshole to his own happiness.

𝄞

She had no idea how long she had been sitting on the floor. The cold wood of the paneled wall dug into her back but she didn't move an inch.

"I...I love you, Sila."

She clutched her phone close to her heart. Her glassy eyes refused to shed tears.

"I bloody well care."

She shook her head, her heart had never felt so heavy.

"None of it, my past, Zarrar's actions, whatever happened that night—absolutely nothing is your ...fault."

She covered her face and palmed her still-dry eyes. The turmoil inside her was a tornado at this point. Ready to break her into smithereens.

"This marriage was never ... a compromise for me, Sila."