Yūgen

Wedding Rings

He was in the middle of the convenience store when his broken sobs caught the attention of the other customers. Even I, who was used to his breakdowns at three in the morning, was surprised at how our Thursday noon went from a late start to anguished tears in public.

Some whispered and looked at him curiously, some moved away from the crying man, but all of them bore the same expression he has been seeing in the mirror for weeks now – pity.

I wanted to console him, but I knew my presence would be of no help. Instead, I remained hanging snugly on the silver necklace he never took off – his name was engraved in my body, but her face was branded in his soul.

A woman approached him and timidly asked, "Excuse me, are you okay?"

As if being splashed with ice cold water, he quickly brushed away his tears with the rough fabric of his coat. He ran his fingers through his hair – a clear sign of frustration and irritation – and he scratched the three-day-old stubble on his chin.

He cleared his throat when he faced the woman. He didn't even bother to plaster a fake smile. "I'm okay, thanks."

He didn't tell her that the song that was playing in the store was the same song that played when she said yes to his marriage proposal.

He didn't tell her that he has not been having sleep at night – his mind was fuddled with dark thoughts swimming in a concoction of vodka, tequila, and whatever else he could find in the cabinet.

He didn't tell her that he wasn't okay.

It was a mutual decision, but the pain was something he felt was solely his.

He quickly moved away from the prying eyes, hastily paid for the tube of toothpaste, and immediately left the store after pocketing his change. Trudging his feet, he walked back home.

He pulled his coat closer to his body as the December wind hit him. It wasn't snowing yet, but he could almost not feel his fingertips. People milled around – some were alone, the others snuggled in the arms of their partners.

He looked at them with envy and disdain. This would be his first Christmas without his wife. She flew back to the Philippines not bearing his last name.

He fished the key in his pocket when he reached his apartment. As he opened the door, he could vividly imagine her waiting for him. During winter, she loved seating by the windowsill, a book on her lap and a mug of coffee in her hands. She'd spend hours watching people and reading stories of worlds much more ideal than theirs.

Instead, there was nothing but the nagging silence. He sighed and went straight to the bathroom, ignoring the boxes of leftover pizza and empty liquor bottles scattered on the floor. He opened the cabinet to store the toothpaste he bought, but boxes of unopened pregnancy test kits fell off.

He stared at them for a while and took deep breaths before picking them up. He was too spent to cry.

---

Like all brides ready to start their lives with their partners, she looked magnificent on her wedding day. Much like today, he was shedding tears, too, which brought laughter to the attendees, but one glance from her and he felt home.

She wasn't crying like him, though. There was serenity in her features and her eyes were steady. Only her shaking hands showed how she truly felt that day.

Maine was the same when she left Richard.

There were no tears from her. Nothing but the peace found from resigning to the inauspicious fate that was theirs adorned her beautiful face. Her cold hands trembled as she struggled to remove me from her finger. I didn't want to leave her, but she didn't want me anymore.

In a small voice, she said, "I'm leaving. I'm tired, Richard. I'm so tired of everything, of us."

Nicomaine Dei, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.

He forcefully threw the bottle in the sink, the remaining brandy inside splashed and droplets landed on his immaculate white shirt. His rigid back was facing her, and his fists were tightly rolled in emotions I couldn't name.

She flinched in surprise, and she gently touched me – a habit she developed ever since Richard put me on her finger on their wedding day.

Still, she attempts to calm him down. "Don't be mad. Alam naman natin parehas na it's only a matter of time before mangyari 'to."

Richard, take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.

"What ever happened to trying to make this work? Ikaw pa nag-suggest na we see a marriage counselor tapos aalis ka?"

"It's not working anymore," she pointed out. "You're not happy. I'm not happy. What's the point? Tell me, Richard. What's the point?"

He grabbed her hands and put it in his heaving chest. His breathing was ragged, the complete opposite of the calmness she was exuding. She nibbled her lip in worry.

"I don't know," he said dejectedly. "All I know is we're supposed to be in love, pero look at us."

In the name of the Father.

"I think we stopped being in love for quite some time now." She removed her hands from his grasp and she slowly pulled me off her finger. She handed me back to him, but he didn't move to take me. She slid me in his front pocket. "Nanghihinayang lang tayo sa eight years na pinagsamahan natin kaya we kept holding on kahit hindi na dapat."

And of the Son.

He was quiet, as if he just understood what was unfolding right before him. The two of them were in a sinking ship but she was the brave one who took his hand and led him off the boat. He was too fascinated with the glittering water that he didn't notice it started filling his lungs.

She has always been the brave one.

"We're fighting a war we've already lost. Tama na, babe," she whispered as she held his face and wiped away the tears. "I love you, but I'm not in love with you anymore."

"I'm sorry if I'm not enough."

"No, no. Don't say that," she admonished. "You're more than enough. It's just that it's not us that we need right now."

He bitterly laughed and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "Damn it. Iiwan mo na nga lang ako, ikaw pa rin ang tama."

And of the Holy Spirit.

She laughed. For the first time in months, she laughed again. "Gago. You know I'm never wrong."

They basked in the comfortable silence that engulfed them. They haven't felt that peaceful for quite some time now.

He tucked behind her ear the stray hair that fall off from her bun. "Salamat, Mahal. Thank you for loving me."

"'Wag ka nang iiyak ha. You can still call me anytime," she smiled, promising him she'd try to be his best friend just like before.

In spite his tears, he grinned, "Kahit booty call?"

"Gago." She pinched his cheeks and after kissing the corner of his lips, she murmured, "I love you. Always."

"I love you, too."

Amen.