When I See Your Face, Part 3
There, standing in the doorway in blue jeans and a blue T-shirt—since when was he wearing casual clothes out of home?—was her husband, the very person she was striving so hard to forget. He was looking at them with an unreadable expression on his face, holding a bouquet of yellow roses in his hands as if it were the most normal thing in the world for him and he belonged right here. As if she hadn’t run away from him and he hadn’t notified her that he would file for divorce.
Something snapped in her at that instant, with a loud, hard, whipping, energy-charged sound that she could hear clearly. Before she knew it, she had stormed toward him, raising herself to her full height and nearly bursting with feelings.
“You…you deceitful bastard of a man! What do you think you’re doing here, bringing me a bunch of freaking roses?! Do you think flowers will make up for making me suffer for almost two years? Are you honestly so full of yourself that you think I’ll return to you? Or have you gotten down from your mighty high horse because you’ve realized that your life is nothing--nothing—without me?”
She was screaming at the top of her voice. Forgotten were the cashier lady and the other people inside the shop. Forgotten was the fact that she had never during their marriage dared to raise her voice to her husband. He was standing there with his mouth hanging open like a ridiculous comic book caricature of himself, the bouquet having dropped from his hands to the floor.
“Don’t you dare to keep a hold on me! Let me live my life and you go and live your dreary, shameful life of yours that I don’t want to be a part of anymore!”
While she caught her breath to let loose another tirade, Mark tried to say something. His words barely registered with her, so hurt and angry and determined was she.
“Miss…this…this must be a misunderstanding. I…”
That did it. She exploded.
“Leave me alone!”
Shoving at him with both hands, she pushed past him and through the door. Running aimlessly as far away from the shop as possible and as fast as her legs would carry her, she fled her nightmare come alive. When after some time, there was a stitch in her chest and she had to slow down, she realized that she was crying. Stopping and steadying herself with a shoulder against some house’s whitewashed wall in one of the many side streets, she tried to catch her breath and come to her senses. Sob after sob escaped her. Everything was a blur in front of her eyes and she felt so weak, she thought she would collapse right then and there. Slowly, with jerky movements like a puppet on a string, she leaned her back against the wall and lowered herself to the ground. Bringing her knees up, resting her head on top of them and encircling herself with her arms, she cried and cried until no more tears would come.
He had found her. He had come after her. There would be no escape, no future, and no happiness for her.
Why? Why could he not go through with the divorce, now that she had also hired a lawyer and was more than ready to leave it all behind? How cruel could he be?
It was useless, it was all useless. She raised her head and fished in her pockets for a handkerchief to dry her face before she remembered that all her groceries were forgotten at the shop. And where was the shop?
She looked around bleakly, trying to distinguish the lane from all the other similar-looking ones in the village, trying to judge how far she had run. The shop building was nowhere to be seen. For nothing in the world did she want to retrace her steps and confront anyone there or be faced with her husband again.
With shaky legs—for how many months had her legs been shaky now?—she got up and tried to get a grip on herself. She would go wherever this street was leading until she recognized the area from her walks through the village. After all, there wasn’t much space to get lost in. She’d make her way back to her apartment—oh shit! What if Mark had inquired where she stayed and would be waiting for her there? No, she shouldn’t go back to her room and like a dumb fish willingly swim into the net that her husband had surely cast. What else was there to do?
(To be continued tomorrow!)
PART 1
PART 2
Something snapped in her at that instant, with a loud, hard, whipping, energy-charged sound that she could hear clearly. Before she knew it, she had stormed toward him, raising herself to her full height and nearly bursting with feelings.
“You…you deceitful bastard of a man! What do you think you’re doing here, bringing me a bunch of freaking roses?! Do you think flowers will make up for making me suffer for almost two years? Are you honestly so full of yourself that you think I’ll return to you? Or have you gotten down from your mighty high horse because you’ve realized that your life is nothing--nothing—without me?”
She was screaming at the top of her voice. Forgotten were the cashier lady and the other people inside the shop. Forgotten was the fact that she had never during their marriage dared to raise her voice to her husband. He was standing there with his mouth hanging open like a ridiculous comic book caricature of himself, the bouquet having dropped from his hands to the floor.
“Don’t you dare to keep a hold on me! Let me live my life and you go and live your dreary, shameful life of yours that I don’t want to be a part of anymore!”
While she caught her breath to let loose another tirade, Mark tried to say something. His words barely registered with her, so hurt and angry and determined was she.
“Miss…this…this must be a misunderstanding. I…”
That did it. She exploded.
“Leave me alone!”
Shoving at him with both hands, she pushed past him and through the door. Running aimlessly as far away from the shop as possible and as fast as her legs would carry her, she fled her nightmare come alive. When after some time, there was a stitch in her chest and she had to slow down, she realized that she was crying. Stopping and steadying herself with a shoulder against some house’s whitewashed wall in one of the many side streets, she tried to catch her breath and come to her senses. Sob after sob escaped her. Everything was a blur in front of her eyes and she felt so weak, she thought she would collapse right then and there. Slowly, with jerky movements like a puppet on a string, she leaned her back against the wall and lowered herself to the ground. Bringing her knees up, resting her head on top of them and encircling herself with her arms, she cried and cried until no more tears would come.
He had found her. He had come after her. There would be no escape, no future, and no happiness for her.
Why? Why could he not go through with the divorce, now that she had also hired a lawyer and was more than ready to leave it all behind? How cruel could he be?
It was useless, it was all useless. She raised her head and fished in her pockets for a handkerchief to dry her face before she remembered that all her groceries were forgotten at the shop. And where was the shop?
She looked around bleakly, trying to distinguish the lane from all the other similar-looking ones in the village, trying to judge how far she had run. The shop building was nowhere to be seen. For nothing in the world did she want to retrace her steps and confront anyone there or be faced with her husband again.
With shaky legs—for how many months had her legs been shaky now?—she got up and tried to get a grip on herself. She would go wherever this street was leading until she recognized the area from her walks through the village. After all, there wasn’t much space to get lost in. She’d make her way back to her apartment—oh shit! What if Mark had inquired where she stayed and would be waiting for her there? No, she shouldn’t go back to her room and like a dumb fish willingly swim into the net that her husband had surely cast. What else was there to do?
(To be continued tomorrow!)
PART 1
PART 2
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