Serrated Edges

Chapter 3

Her condo unit is stark. Unlaundered costumes and clothes are strewn all over her living room. Two glasses remain unwashed on the floor and on the balcony. Her curtains are perpetually drawn and haven't been changed in over a year. The pungent smell of cigarettes cling to every piece of furniture. The air is stale and dank.Her fridge is bare except for ice cubes, some old takeout, and the usual bottles of liquor. Around the room, the walls are empty.  There are no more photographs. Everything has been thrown away, along with all of RJ's old gifts.

The whole room is filled with resentment and loss.

She grits her teeth and eyes the half-empty vodka bottle on the table.

Meng, he warns in a menacing tone.

She arches an eyebrow. Wag ako, RJ.

Tigilan mo yan, he admonishes.

She chuckles.

Sweetheart, she coos sarcastically. Ngayon ka pa?

His phone rings.

Ayan na. Hinahanap ka na. Her voice drips with venom.

He rejects the call and turns off his phone.

She grabs the vodka bottle. He grabs her arm.

DON'T TOUCH ME, she screams as she recoils in disgust. Don't you f*cking touch me.

Her voice reverberates in the condo.

He drops her arm, his jaw set, his eyes furious.

She manages to pour vodka into a filthy water glass and gulps it down. She thrusts the empty glass at him.

Gusto mo?

RJ continues to glower at her, barely bothering to conceal his fury at her drunkenness.

Kung tapos ka na mag-sermon, umuwi ka na, she asks as she takes a seat on one of the counter high-chairs. Suddenly she stares into empty space, the expression on her face one of massive defeat and exhaustion.

The silence in the kitchen is deafening. RJ remains standing across the counter, watching her. Judging her.

After a full minute, she opens her mouth to speak. Her voice drops to a painful whisper.

I miss her, RJ. Pwede ba yon? We never had her. But I miss her.

He clenches a fist and pounds it hard on the kitchen counter, startling her. His eyes darken as he struggles to control his anger. She glances at him with an amused smile. He could throttle, break, hit, throw, and destroy anything in her condo now and she would not care. His anger no longer intimidates her. To her, his episodes of rage only mean one thing: that he is still in as much pain as she is; that no matter how life threatens to separate them, they will always be haunted by the spectre of a shared agony.

I miss Rose. I miss her so much.

He swallows and shuts his eyes, thinking it shuts out the truth of her words. It doesn't. It can't. It's been two years but the wounds are still as raw and as fresh as when they learned the truth that tragic day.

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