Taerose Oneshot Collection

2. Unsteady

{au, angst, marriage, loss }

If you love me, don't let go.

⤟≻❈≺⤠

He was late again.

Chaeyoung poured herself another dose of vodka. Her fourth glass.

She took a seat on what used to be her favourite velvet sofa, her navy nightgown pooling around her thighs in a heap of darkness. The sofa was strategically placed in front of the fireplace to give the illusion of warmth. Of comfort. Of things that had long left this house.

She watched the flames flicker, rise, and die in front of her as each moment slugged by. Much like her relationship.

Her eyes lost focus as memories of their youth flashed through her mind like a tragic timeline. How he had interrupted the pep rally in their final year of high school to ask her to Prom. Where they had been crowned King and Queen and had the time of their lives. How they had attended the same university and never spent a single moment apart. The study sessions, the late-night drives, the café dates, the parties.

She didn't bother to wipe the tears as she took another swig of the burning, liquid comfort in her hands. Her blurry eyes scanned the house she now sat in. The photographs of their naïve, younger selves plastered above the fireplace. The intricate dining room table that had not been properly used for months now. The kitchen that only their housekeepers and cooks used anymore. The elaborate, stained glass door that he rarely even walked through. And the damn crystal chandeliers which seemed almost as fragile as their marriage. You would think the hugeness of the house would give her room to breath, but it only suffocated her more.

The antique, grandfather clock in the mirror chimed 12:00 am, its sound echoing through the high ceilings of their mansion. She swirled her drink around in the glass, watching the ice cubes clang together with unfocused eyes.

How the hell had they gotten here? From high school sweethearts to just another failed marriage in a dark, hopeless world. They told themselves so many times that they'd never reach this dark, empty place. And yet, here they were. Still together but lonelier than ever.

Unknowingly, her hand floated up to her belly. Where their child should have reached 9 months by now. If she hadn't lost it. If he hadn't been on a work trip when she had shown the first signs of preterm labour. If she wasn't utterly alone. If she hadn't tried to drive herself to the hospital and fell down the stairs in the process.

The tears drenched her face now, as the horrors of that night filled her mind for the thousandth time. It haunted her day and night. And nothing – nothing – ever made it better. The alcohol helped, but it was only a temporary solution, and she knew it.

The hospital ride in the ambulance, completely alone, terrified that she had lost the one thing she had loved more than him. More than herself.

Suddenly, the sound of keys clanging outside the door broke her out of her reverie.

She slowly wiped the tears away with the back of her hands but didn't turn when she heard him enter.

He didn't say anything, but she could feel his eyes on her back. Heard the rustle of his jacket being thrown over the coat rack. Felt the cold tension rise between them from several feet away.

She still didn't look at him. Couldn't look at him.

The house was utterly silent, save for his footsteps. The fire had completely died for a while now and her drink was done.