Short Stories

Shattering

The vase shattered on the ground. It had fallen for a trivial reason, she had bumped into the table and knocked it off, but suddenly the house was silent. No movement, no noise. She was standing silently and staring at the jagged pieces of the vase on the floor. Memories replayed in her mind, her words echoing like a broken record.
"How has your day been?" He asked.
"Fine," she would always reply. Never giving details or changing her answer. Always "fine".
Their marriage has seemed picture perfect, a loving wife and husband, happy people. But their bliss could only last so long, and like the vase, it shattered violently. Their supposed content with each other quickly vanished, leaving broken pieces.
"I thought you loved me!" She would shout, tears running down her face.
"I did too!" He would respond, equally upset at one of their worst fights thus far.
They didn't know that their love would end this way, ugly jealousy and bitterness coming between them. It all shattered on a rainy day in autumn.
She had just returned from work and found her husband with another woman in their bed. There was no screaming and smashing of glasses this time. Only silent tears and a sad look before she turned and left. A few days later she collected her things from the house and moved into a new apartment. She hadn't talked to him since that day.
Their relationship didn't end as she thought. She was prepared for screaming, crying, shattering, but not for the silent heartbreak.
She suddenly snapped out of her thoughts and went back to picking up shards of glass from the broken vase. She'd have to vacuum later, wouldn't she? That would be a pain.