#11. One Picture. One Story. || The Rain of Reconciliation

                                                img source: tumblr

    Even the best marriages hit rock bottom. One minute, you’re giggling intoxicatedly over drinks, combing your fingers through her hair, tickling her to death as she pleads for mercy , and the next, you’re burning with anger, as ready to walk out the door as you were walking out of your parents’ door, 15 years prior. The downfall comes by such surprise that the ground beneath your feet trembles and the foundations come perilously close to crumbling.

    Ever since he had opened his eyes that day, Dan had a nudging feeling at the back of his mind, the same feeling he always got when something bad was supposed to happen. His friends regarded it as his ’superpower’, but he knew better that it was a superpower or a death trap. Terming it as a false alarm, he shoved it away and got off the bed, absentmindedly prodding his feet on the sherry red carpeting, in the search for his slippers. As he turned around, Anna was still sleeping, unaware of the world and it’s business as usual. Bending, he rubbed her shoulder, in an effort to wake her up. As was the usual, she shoved him away, murmuring some unintelligible syllables, and if it was possible, buried herself even deeper among the silk covers.

     Slightly annoyed, he threw off the sheets onto the carpet and emptying the glass of water sitting on his side table upon her, stalked off to the bathroom for his morning rituals. 

   Fifteen minutes later, he appeared, smelling of aftershave and a towel slung around his body. Anna was standing in front of the closet with a disgruntled frown on her face, sporting a wet patch on her pyjamas. If he didn’t know better, she was thoroughly pissed.

  

   Turning around, she saw him and he knew what was coming.

‘Thanks to you now I have the migraine of the century’

‘You say that everyday. Stop being a drama queen.’

 He retorted, resisting an urge to roll his eyes.

‘No I don’t. In fact..’ she pretended to count on her fingers, 'the last four times I had a migraine this early in the morning was because you were always bent upon waking me up with a disturbance..’

‘Oh yeah, because you appear to be the only person on the planet for whom a sleep disturbance ends up in a headache. Childish.’

‘I’ll tell you what’s childish, throwing water on someone, when they’re in a deep sleep.’

‘Whatever, next time I’ll let you sleep in, and if you miss your office hours, don’t blame me. Now please stop acting like a petulant child. Not everything is about you.’

    

      He shoved pass her, and took out a button down shirt and some slacks from the closet. Silently, she removed a dress from the wardrobe next to his and went to change. He was trying to knot his tie when she stepped out of the vanity. They exchanged a deep glance. 

   She was always helping him with his tie, and even though he made fun of her, he liked the close proximity as he focused on her long eyelashes and the cute faces she made while concentrating. With slight remorse, he realised that today he’d have to do it alone. Fighting with his wife was never a good idea especially when she was so easily hurt.

  

    She had already placed the breakfast things on the kitchen counter while he was sorting his files. He took a seat and they resumed breakfast in a stiff silence, with tension so thick you could cut through it with a knife. As she cleared the dishes into the sink, he went into the bedroom to put on his coat and snapped his watch to the left wrist.

Moistening his lips and glancing at her back, he spoke.

‘You’ll have to leave with me today. The car service called last night, after you had gone to sleep, and they said they won’t be able to bring your car here this morning. You can collect it later. Now hurry up, I have a meeting by 10.’

’There’s no need. I can catch a bus.’

’No way. The bus stop is far from here and I’m not letting you walk all the way there, alone. Anything could happen’

He expected more of an argument but she relented.

‘Fine. Just give me a minute’

Leaning against the counter, he observed as she collected her things, and placing her credit cards, wallet and smartphone in her purse.

She silently gestured that she was ready to leave.

With his shoe heels tapping ahead, he started the car and backed out of the porch. Still as a mouse, she settled into the passenger seat and looked out of her window as they moved along the road.

A few times, he tried to make some small talk but her blank expression never gave him any encouragement. Instead he focused on the rood, a thousand thoughts jostling in his head.

   Slowly, it began to drizzle, matching the morose atmosphere. When he stopped a couple feet in front of her office building, the rain had fastened it’s pace and now it felt like rocks hitting the car hood. Anna just got out of the car silently, as if nothing that could happen could prove more of a damper for her day. As he watched her back, he exasperatedly, fished out the black umbrella that he kept under his seat and ran after her.

‘Even though I am so mad at you, I still love you and your crappy attitude. Here, I’ll walk you to the door. Your colds always last long.’

‘Why do we fight Dan?’ He could trace the moisture in her eyes.

‘I don’t know Anna. I don’t know’

And she leaned against him, all forgotten and forgiven as they walked down the path, laughing at the cliché they were living.

Inspired by Grey's Anatomy Season 8 Episode 1.

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