The Broken Man (One-Shot)

"Can you come over to my house? I need to talk to you about something."

I was startled because of the shrill ring of the phone which woke me up. It's 3 pm and I'm still on the verge of sleeping peacefully when she called. I held the phone in my ear and she started talking when I answered it. I listened sleepily, but her nervous tone somehow awakened my senses.

"Sure, honey. What is it about?" I asked while getting myself off the bed and picking up my shirt on the floor with my right hand, my left hand holding on the phone.

"Come over here now, please. I don't have much time." She stuttered the words, I almost didn't get it. She hang up.

I furrowed my brows. She said she doesn't have much time. How could that even happen? She always has time--a lot of time, when it comes to me. Ever since I met her a month ago, she has always been there, making me feel loved, giving my needs, letting me feel like I am the luckiest man in the world. My world took a sharp turn from barely existing to somehow beautiful and worth living when I saw her standing under the streetlight that night, looking so beautiful, so serene, so divine with her long, black tresses, small face, and plain, white coat. I will never forget that night.

After putting my shirt on, I went to the bathroom to wash my face. I looked weary when I saw my reflection in the mirror, wondering what bothered her or why she sounded like she saw a ghost when she called because it never happened before. Did her husband already found out about us? Will she break up with me?

I know I'm being selfish because I disregarded the fact that she already has someone you can call live-in husband, but the fear of losing her is just unbearable that I didn't mind being his other man. I love her, and she told me she had never felt the way she felt when we made love the first time we met and she loves me more than she loves her husband. I held on to that assurance of hers, even though it is frail enough to be broken once she decided she will leave me.

I shook the thought off my head, wiped my face with a towel and went out of the bathroom door. I took my phone from the bedside table and placed it in my pocket.

I shut the front door of my apartment behind me and entered my car, revved the engine and drove hastily along the street. I slid the phone out of my pocket and dialled her number, but her number was busy so I left her a voice mail instead. I ignored the painful squeeze in my heart at the thought of her busy with something else. With someone else.

"I'm coming. I love you."

I parked in front of her house less than ten minutes later and pushed the car door open. Feeling nervous for the first time, I walked to her door and pressed the doorbell button.

It opened and I saw her. She looked different from when I used to see her before. It's like she was expecting someone else when she saw me, but she shoved it off quickly. She gave me a nervous smile and held my face with her hands to give me a quick kiss.

"Come in." She said when she pulled away and held my hand while guiding me to her house. It still looks the same-- beige walls, wooden furnitures and a simple chandelier hanging on the ceiling of her living room.

We sat on the couch and I tucked her hair on the back of her ear and kissed her forehead. "So, what are you going to tell me?" I inquired while playing with her hair.

She started crying. Suddenly feeling alarmed and confused, I hugged her to my chest, not knowing what to say.

"Blaze, look, I don't want to make this hard for you but.." She sobbed in between her words.