INEFABBLE - Short Stories Collection #2

Fairness, I Wonder

"Do you believe that we're meant to be?" he asked me one night. I stared at his image bounded at the computer screen. His face looked curious and I bet he wondered what my answer would be.

I chuckled at him, "You believe in those things?"

"Who doesn't?" he replied with a smile as he leaned back on his chair. His eyes seemed to watch me and my actions. Every little thing I'd do, he would know. He always did. He was the observant one between the two of us, he claimed.

"Okay, then tell me why we're meant to be," I returned the question to him, making him roll his eyes playfully.

"That's not fair!" he exclaimed. "I asked you first."

Nothing really is fair, I wanted to say, but instead I just laughed at him, not wanting to ruin the moment. This was one of the rare ones that he'd play along with me. Oftentimes, I'd rather not say what happened.

"Fine, I'll answer," he said and stared at me. "I believe we're meant to be together. You know why? Because we know each other very well."

I smiled at him. He did, too. Normally, I would tell him that it's true. Today, I only managed a smile, afraid what might happen if I did say something. I just wanted him to tell me these kind of stuff. He's calm, he's rarely calm. I wouldn't want this to change.

"I believe that we're also bounded by a red string of faith," he told me, showing me a lazy smile. "I know you know about that. I mean you read too many stories, of course, you know about that already."

"Tell me more," I replied, my cheeks felt as if it was about to burst from all the smiling I did. "Why do you think we're tied by a red string of faith?"

"I want you to answer this one," he stated. "I answered the first one, now I want you to answer. So it will be fair."

"I-" my voice trailed off when we both heard a female voice on the background. I knew who owned that voice. I also knew what's going to happen.

"Oh no, Elise, I'm sorry. I have to go," he apologized, his eyes looked surprisingly regretful for having to leave early. "You already knew why, right?"

I smiled reassuringly at him and nodded. His lips curved into a smile though his eyes remained doubtful. He always doubted me. This was never new at all.

"I love you," he breathed, blowing me a kiss before ending the video call. I silently stared at the already blank screen, my lips back to its original thin line. His words echoed in the dark and cold room.

We hadn't seen each other for five months due to the pandemic. The absence of his touch was too much for me. The first months were cruel. I would usually cry at night because I couldn't see him. I'd stay up late at night just to talk to him about things. We missed each other. I missed him.

But then, the next month came.

We fought numerous times on the phone. The rest of the night when we fought would be hell. I wouldn't be able to talk to him because he'd shut me out. I'd be up until midnight, crying. My eyes would look really puffy and bloodshot the next morning. He would come around, too, and apologize. I would also forgive him and asked him not to do it anymore because it killed me. He promised. He promise not to.

But he didn't keep it.

The fights continued. It got worse everday just like the pandemic. I'd cry, he'd sleep soundly. The next day, we'd be okay again. Then, another fight would come around because of something so minor.

I grew tired, eventually.

I slumped on my bed, hugging a pillow. Usually, I'd imagine him being the pillow, but now, I imagined no one. I snuggled to it and closed my eyes, replaying the times we fought on the road, the time he left me walking by myself home because he got so mad at me, the time I cried publicly while wearing my school uniform and he didn't care. I could still picture his eyes raging with fury if he got mad at me with every liitle thing that I did. His words that he told me burned in my head and everytime, I'd hear it echo throughout the room like it did now.

"I sometimes regret even meeting you!"

I winced in pain. It's coming back to me again. I heard his voice telling me those things again and again. I hugged the pillow tighter as if my life depended on it.

He was always the one who gets mad easily. I didn't get mad at him for one bit. I couldn't. It killed me when I was angry. Did he feel that too? Did he feel like it was stabbing him if he ignored me, if he hurted me like that?

"That's not fair."

Tears rolled my eyes for the first time since the last time I cried for him. His toxic words enveloped me like a blanket. I was covered from head to toe. But this blanket did not protect me. It haunted me.

Fairness, I wonder. Is this what fairness meant to you?

"I love you," I breathed as I cried silently throughout the night again.

"...too."