The weight of everything presses down on me like a stone sitting on my chest. I wake up in the morning, gazing at the roof, and briefly, I keep thinking about whether any of this the wedding, the commitments, the moving tides of my new life are genuine.
–
Alexander’s side of the bed is cold once more, and the space between us feels more critical now than it did even only a couple of days prior.
I swing my legs off the bed and press my palms against the cool surface of the end table, steadied by the quietness of the room. The calm is frightening. I long for when quietness felt consoling, not choking. Maybe the quietness has turned into a wall between us, a barrier I’m unsure how to break through
anymore.
I hear the soft sound of footsteps outside our bedroom door, and a moment later, it creaks open. I don’t even have to look up to know it’s him- Alexander.
He’s standing there, a shadow in the doorway, his expression unreadable. He’s dressed for another day at the office, but the lines of exhaustion are etched deeper than before, the weight of responsibility pressing him further into himself.
“Leila,” he says, his voice low, yet somehow distant. He rarely calls me by my name unless there’s something important to discuss. But even then, there’s a coldness there that didn’t exist when we first married. “We need to talk.”
I sit up straighter, my heart starting to race. The pressure in his voice sends a chill through me.
“About what?” I figure out how to say it. However, my throat feels tight. I attempt to keep my voice consistent, but something doesn’t add up about how he takes a gander at me now, causing me to feel more modest and undetectable.
His jaw fixed as he stepped into the room. “The board meeting. The merger,” he begins; however, it’s unmistakable this isn’t just about business any Monger. I can see it in the manner his look flicks to the floor before meeting my eyes once more, briefly.
“You’ve been keeping away from me, Alexander. All of this…it’s taking its toll on us. On you. On me,” I say, the words escaping before I can stop them.
His eyes narrow,
and the tension in his shoulders stiffens. “Leila, not now. We need to focus on what’s important.” He walks closer, his eyes scanning the room, not looking at me but rather at something just past me.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “What’s important?” I snap before I can think better of it. “You’ve been shutting me out for weeks. All you care about is the company. You keep burying yourself in it, and where does that leave me, Alexander?”
He steps back as if my words have struck him harder than I intended. There’s an uncomfortable pause between us, a space that’s thick with unspoken
ernotions.
“I’m doing this for us. For you. For the future,” he says, practically arguing. However, it doesn’t seem like a request. It sounds like a justification. Like he’s trying to convince himself as much as me.
P
“Do you think I don’t see that? Do you think I would rather not help? Be that as it may, we can’t continue to go this way,” I answer, my voice faltering notwithstanding my endeavour to sound sure. “You’ve assembled this realm, Alexander. That’s what I get. But, I need you. Not just the money. Not just the success. I need you. All of you.”
He gazes at me briefly, then dismisses, pacing the floor. His back is to me, and briefly, I think he could leave once more, retreat into his world of spreadsheets and deals. But then he stops his voice almost a whisper.
“I’m doing this because I love you. I don’t know how to be the man you need me to be right now. All I know is how to fight for what’s mine.”
I can’t stop the sadness that wells up inside me. He’s trying. But it’s not enough. And I’m not sure anymore if it ever will be.
“Alexander,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I don’t need you to fight for me. I need you to fight with me.”
His back remains turned, and I can see his shoulders rise and fall with the weight of his frustration.
“I’m trying, Leila. I’m trying,” he repeats, but the words feel hollow now, like an echo bouncing off the walls. They don’t reach me. Not like they used to.
“Then why does it feel like we’re on opposite sides of this marriage? Why does it feel like I’m invisible to you?”
There’s another long pause, and I wonder if I’ve lost him completely. But just as I’m about to pull away, he turns back toward me, and for the briefest moment, I see the cracks in his carefully constructed mask. His eyes soften, and there’s a flicker of the man I married–the man I thought I knew.
But it’s gone just as quickly.
“I’m sorry,” he says, almost too quietly for me to hear. “I didn’t mean to make you feel invisible.”
I nod slowly, uncertain of what to say. I want to accept him, want to believe that his statement of regret implies more than simply words. Be that as it may, the developing distance between us feels like a void, and I don’t have the foggiest idea of how to cross it any longer.
Just then, there’s a knock at the door, and we both leap, as if we’ve both been jolted out of the emotional moment we’ve shared.
1/2
+25 Bonus
“Mr. Hawke, the board is sitting tight for you first floor,” comes the voice of his collaborator, slicing through the thick pressure in the room.
Alexander fixes, his expert attitude slipping once again into the right spot as though nothing occurred. He looks at me momentarily, but it’s a similar look–a fleeting moment of guilt, then back to business.
“I’ll be downstairs shortly,” he says, his voice now steady, almost mechanical.
I watch him leave the room, the door closing softly behind him. And for the first time in weeks, I feel more alone than ever.
I stand there, heart beating in my chest, as I gaze at the shut entryway. There’s an unpropitious thing in the air, a pressure that hasn’t yet broken. Also, as I move back in the direction of the window, my phone hums on the end table. Without thinking, I grab it.
A message from my mom: *“Leila, we want to talk. The circumstances more regrettable than we thought.“*
–
The heaviness of her words hits me harder than I anticipated. I can’t relax. The establishment I’ve been attempting to fabricate and in my life feels like it’s disintegrating at the same time.
–
both in my marriage
And I wonder if anything will ever be the same again.
Comments
Support
Share
