Solace

|66|impetus

Happy Reading!!

***

"Explain?" I asked amazed, what's there to explain?

The word came out strangled. Barely recognizable as my own voice.

"You want to explain? Now? After...," I stopped couldn't complete my words.

My hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking. I pressed them against the floor to steady myself but it didn't help. Nothing helped.

"After putting me through hell," I continued, my voice rising.

"After twenty days of silence. After making me feel like I'm invisible. Like I'm nothing. After..." I stopped. Pressed my hand to my chest. Right over the bruises. Right where it hurt most.

"Now you want to explain?" I spoke.
He reached toward me, but I jerked back so violently I hit my shoulder against the balcony railing.

The pain shot through me sharp and bright, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my chest.

"Don't," I whispered. "Don't you dare touch me." I added, my voice getting hoarse.

His hand dropped. His face......God, his face looked devastated. But I couldn't care about that. Couldn't make myself care about his pain when mine was drowning me.

"How dare you," I said, and my voice was shaking so badly the words barely held together.

"How dare you sit there and act like an explanation is going to fix this. Like words are going to make any of this okay."

"I don't think it will fix...," he started speaking.

"THEN WHY?" The scream tore out of me. Raw and agonizing and everything I'd been holding back.

"Why are you here? Why now? After everything...after I begged you to talk to me. After I asked you multiple times what was wrong. In the car, do you remember?"

I was standing now. Didn't remember getting up but I was on my feet, towering over him as he sat there looking up at me with those eyes that suddenly wanted to see me.

Too late. It was too late.

"In our room, Vaibhav. Every single day. Every morning when you woke up and couldn't meet my eyes. Every night when you came to bed hours after I'd fallen asleep....if you came to bed at all."

My hands fisted in my kurti, right over my heart, like I could physically hold the pieces together.

"I tried. God, I tried so hard. But you didn't bother, did you? You didn't think I was worth an explanation. You treated me like...." My voice cracked. Shattered.

"Like I'm furniture. Like I'm a table in your bedroom that you walk past every day without seeing. Without thinking. Without caring."

"That's not true....," he said.

"It is true." I spoke with finality.

I was crying now. Couldn't stop the tears even if I wanted to. They streamed down my face hot
and fast and I didn't wipe them away. Let him see. Let him finally see what he'd done.

"You wanted this relationship to die, didn't you? A slow, merciless death. So you wouldn't have to be the one to end it. So you could say you tried. So you could tell people it just didn't work out."

"No, I never....," he attempted speaking which was of no use.

"And now it has," I declared.

The words fell between us like stones.