by Tara Ahmed
She was beautiful. Her large, doe like eyes, gently closed, as her thin lips formed into a passive grin. Her short tresses rested under a dainty chin- her pixie features staring at the cream ceiling.
My eyes stung, tears streaming down my chin, as I watched the woman smile warmly at him. James glanced at the ceiling, his long arm resting over her shoulder, as he leaned to the side, sucking at the corner of her pale neck.
“Why would you do this to me?” My voice was weak.
“Oh, shit! You’re wife!” The woman’s voice squeaked against the room, as she shot up, holding the red sheet up to her neck.
My lips quivered, as tears leaked past my chin, my head suddenly feeling heavy.
Startled, James jumped out of bed, clad in a pair of black briefs. Guilt flashed over his eyes, as he looked from the woman, then to me, as if confused on who to choose.
Feeling my blood simmer within my veins, I stalked towards him.
“Dory, I can explain,” he began. “Just hear me out—”
My hand swept across his cheek, slapping him as hard across the face, leaving a stark red imprint.
“Why would you lie to me?” I screamed loudly, gripping his shoulders. “You know how I feel about you! Why would you do this to me, James? How could you?”
I repeated the last question over and over again till the words bled in my ears, drowning out my cries. I sobbed uncontrollably, punching his chest, demanding an answer.
“I like you so much!” I confessed. “Why would you do this to me? Why?”
“Oh, gosh, get a grip,” The voice came from the nameless woman, who sat Indian style on the bed, rolling her eyes. “He’s obviously bored of you. Honestly, women like you are a joke to society. All you can do is cry.”
“Stay out of this, Rosanna!” yelled James, taking a step back.
I snapped my head towards her, glaring coldly. I was going to ignore her, but because she was being such a bitch, I decided that ignoring wasn’t enough.
James must have senses my next move, for just as I lunged towards her, extending my claws out, he scooped me by the middle, carrying me out of the room.
“Just hold on,” he said. “Rosanna, you may leave. Now!”
“Whatever,” she said. “If you need me again, you know where to call. Oh, and tell your little wife here to keep you on a better leash—“
“You’re the one that needs a leash, bitch!” I screamed, running towards her, hoping to commit a double murder- her and James.
Again, his arms wrapped over my middle, as the woman slipped a barely there summer dress over her thin frame. She strutted like a runway model out of the room, and when the door clicked closed, I stomped on James’s foot.
He groaned in pain, as I turned, glaring coldly at him.
“Who is she?” I demanded.
Anger flashed over his eyes, as he walked to the end of the room, grabbing a black t-shirt from the ground and slipping it on. My gaze followed his steps, as he pushed past me, walking out of the room.
I followed.
“Stop ignoring me! Why did you lie to me, and who is she?”
James stood before the kitchen counter, giving me a passive stare.
“That’s none of your damn business,” he snapped. “Alright, so I lied. So what? You know how much I don’t want to go to that stupid, ridiculous ass carnival, yet you’re emotionally blackmailing me to go!—“
“I wasn’t emotionally black mailing you at all! I didn’t even mention it even once after you said you don’t want to go—“
His fist slammed against the marble counter, as he stared at me with such anger in his eyes, I almost mistook him for Richard. I’d never seen James so upset before, and it was as though he’d been holding in his anger for the longest while.
“You kept marking the damn date on the calendar,” he snapped. “I know how badly you want me to meet your family, but honestly, you’re pathetic.”
“I’m pathetic? You’re calling me pathetic?”
“Yeah, I am!” he shouted. “Have you seen yourself? You walk around in those childish pajamas all day, either studying while walking, or talking on the phone and walking, or even listening to the music and walking! It’s so damn irritating! Your hair is hardly ever brushed, you never wear makeup, and your clothes never match. You have no style, you have no grace, and there’s nothing about you that could ever attract a man! I felt pity for you, Dorothy. That’s all! And if you mistook that pity for attraction, then that’s your fault, not mine!”
I stared at him, not quite knowing what to say, but only wanting the pain in my heart to disappear. As he walked towards me, I stared up at him with watery eyes, suddenly feeling small.
I wished it wouldn’t hurt this much.
He stood before me, looking annoyed, as he ran both hands through the thick main of his hair.
“I understand that you don’t feel what I feel,” I whispered. “But you really shouldn’t have lied to me. I didn’t deserve that!”
A smile graced the edge of his mouth- his thumb grazing the side of my cheek. I pushed out of his touch, taking a step back, as he smiled wickedly at me.
“I didn’t lie to you, Dorothy,” he said. “I was sick today…sick of you.”
His words struck like knives to the chest, killing me slowly.
“Fine,” I said. “If you’re so sick of me, then starting right now, you won’t have to see me again. I’m breaking off this marriage! I’m divorcing you—”
He laughed. “You can’t possibly serious. You signed a contract, Princess—”
“Screw the contract!” I yelled. “Screw you!”
As I walked around him, his arms gripped my shoulders, giving me a slight shake, as he stared angrily at me.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
I pushed out of his hold, standing a foot back, shooting him a cold stare.
“I’m leaving!” I screamed.
His face reddened, his broad chest heaving, as I ran towards my bedroom, locking the door. Tears streamed past my cheeks, as I pulled out the empty luggage from the closet, stuffing as many clothes as I could inside.
James’s friendly eyes that I had fallen for, entered my mind, as I recalled all the times that he’d made me smile. Touching the tip of my nose, his Eskimo kiss clouded my memory.
Loud knocks pounded against the door.
“Open the door, Dorothy!” he shouted. “You can’t leave—you…you just can’t!”
“Watch me,” I replied.
“Your shelter,” he said, panting. “You’ll have to see it crumble to pieces if you leave!”
There was a hint of desperation in his voice, as I stood from the ground, dragging the luggage towards the open window. As I stared at the ground, which was only two feet away, I was thankful to live on the first floor.
“I’ll manage the shelter without your financial help, Mr. Bellevue,” I said. “Goodbye.”
“Dory, wait—”
I slipped out of the window, holding my luggage against my chest, as I ran through the streets, extending my arm towards the nearest cab.
The yellow vehicle stopped before me, as the driver rolled down his window, giving me a slight nod. Swallowing a breath, I opened the door, pushing the luggage inside till it hit the other end of the car. Pushing through the car, I closed the door, adjusting to the center of the back seat.
“To J.F.K. Airport please.” My voice was muffled, sounding tired, as I wiped a hand under my cheek.
“Going on Spring break, Ma’am?” the driver asked.
“No,” I replied. “I’m going home. Maybe for forever this time.”
Chapter Nineteen
The warm breeze blew through the open window of the taxi, as I rested my head against the seat, my eyes closed. Licking my bottom lip, I focused on the rumbling sounds of oncoming traffic, as the lulls of pedestrians drowned through my heavy heart. Clenching my hands against the seat, feeling the thick, course leather stab into my palms,
an image of a smiling James clouded my mind.
“You know, I came to this city when I was just a little younger than you.” The driver’s voice broke through my thoughts, as I jerked up, staring at him through the front mirror. “I came all the way from Nepal. I’d left my mother, my sisters, and my fiancé, promising to bring them with me some day. New York certainly is the best city, wouldn’t you agree ma’am?”
The man, who I now noticed had the greyest eyes I’d ever seen, smiled warmly at me, his thin lips curled upwards. I tilted my head, pressing a finger against my temple, for my head throbbed, as I looked over his bright green t-shirt that said “I love NY” in a heart at the center of his frail chest. His face was so young, much younger than mine, as a childlike spirit rested at the apples of his brown cheeks. But the fine grey at the top of his thinning black hair, gave away his age, which I imagined would be in the mid-forties.
I sighed. “I haven’t seen all the cities in the world, so I couldn’t say. Maybe Nepal would be a better home than here. Actually, anywhere would be better than here.”
He laughed joyously- the bright rays casting a luminescent glow over his face, as he shook his head in a knowing way.
“I take it that the city has hurt you, ma’am,” he said. “Or perhaps, a friend has. But I assure you, give New York another chance. There is magic along every road, believe me, for I have seen such magic myself.”
I smiled. “You’re very intuitive. What magic have you seen?”
His fingers tapped the steering wheel as though playing a musical note on a piano, as his cloudlike gaze stared wondrously at the road. For a moment, I wanted to see what he saw. There was this inevitable warmth about him, that I found myself wondering whether he’d ever been hurt like I was.
Did his fiancé ever break his heart?
“I’m an old man, and old men can’t remember much,” he said. “But what I do recall, is seeing Soraya’s face light up like a million stars when I brought her to our first home, back in 1982, when the city was a rush of noise.”
“Soraya...that’s a beautiful name. Is she your wife?”
He glanced at me through the mirror, before adjusting the forest green pine freshener dangling off the center. Sending me a stiff smile, he placed both hands on the steering wheel once more, his shoulders slouched.
I frowned, feeling a bit worried that I had offended him.
“She was,” he said.
The light from glass reflected off his solemn eyes, as he stared at the road with a faraway look, as though recalling a painful memory.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to pry—”
“Don’t be silly, ma’am,” he said. “I am flattered when passengers take an interest in my otherwise boring life. Soraya and I lived, laughed, and loved, for thirteen years. She was and still is- my everything. Without her, I would be nowhere. She knew me in a way that no one else ever could. As the years went by, my love for her kept growing, for I learned something new about her every day. She grew more beautiful each day as well. There were times I thought that I’d been given a love potion, because everything about her, mesmerized me. Her laugh, her stubborn will, the way she smiled when watching a movie, the way her finger casually slipped back a hair behind her ear.”
His voice carried on a note of its own, as he spoke of his lady love, recalling memories of the life they’d shared. I couldn’t help but smile- a hot chill pressed against my heart, as I stared out the open window. Inhaling the misty gust, I leaned my head against the leather seat, watching the small drops of rain tumble onto the pavement. The cool drops whisked against my face, as I crossed my hands in my lap, staring at the grey clouds rumble against the smoky sky.
“Soraya is a lucky woman,” I said.
He laughed warmly.
“I am the lucky one,” he informed. “But unfortunately, my time with her was not meant to be.”
“Why is that?”
I glanced at him, my brows furrowed together. My heart clenched, as I gave him a sad stare, worried that his wife had passed too soon, or that she was in a coma. Perhaps, she had to return to Nepal for an urgent reason, or maybe, she had somehow vanished.
“She left me for another,” he said. “It’s my fault, really. I was so busy with working three shifts, that I had neglected what she needed the most…me. The kids were a handful as well. She was unhappy for the longest time, and I had not a clue. A few months after our divorce, I found a letter in her name, sent to me. My Soraya was a clumsy woman, and she misplaced things often. There were days that she’d forget the car keys inside the laundry basket, and other days, where her lipstick would be floating inside the toilet. When I saw that letter, when I held it in my hands, I could almost smell her fragrance. Her fingerprints were on the edge of that sealed envelope, the marks which I have kept for all these years. That letter still rests in the bottom drawer where I’d found it. It has yet to be opened.”
I pressed a hand against my chest, feeling a lump rest in center of my heart, as my eyes began to sting. A single tear escaped my lids, and as he snapped his gaze to mine, I looked away, wiping the liquid against my cheek.
“Why do you still love her?” I asked quietly. “She left you for someone else, and you’ve done nothing but love her all your life, so how can you still feel such strong emotions for someone that just doesn’t care?”
He exhaled a deep sigh, his eyes lingering on mine as though trying to speak to me through silent words.
But all I could hear was James’s low chuckle simmering in the depths of my mind. I glared at my palms, clenching them over my lap, my knuckles pushing into my ruby red skirt.
“Soraya gave me the happiest years of my life,” he said. “For that, I am grateful. She may not be with me physically, but in my soul, she lives.”
I pursed my lips, hesitating.
“You should go meet her,” I said. “I have a feeling she misses you just as much.”
He adjusted the mirror, before stopping the car in front of the airport entrance. Cars upon cars piled across the road, as people walked out of lemon yellow taxis, dragging their suitcases over the grey pavement.
“The last I’d met her was five years ago, just a week before she passed,” he said. “We spent the afternoon in her garden, drinking tea, listening to her talk until the sun dipped. She was very ill, and the doctors had given up hope. As for me…spending those hours with her felt as though I’d lived my entire life in one day. You should have seen her…she was the happiest she could have been. Her life was just as I’d thought it would be, full of light.”
I slid to the end of the seat, dragging my bulky brown luggage, as I opened the door with one hand. I closed the door, my palm gripped over the handle of the luggage, walking towards the passenger window.
“I’m glad you got to meet her and I’m sorry for your loss,” I said. “I really appreciate you telling me your story. It’s nice to know that good people like you still exist. Um…my wallet is in my luggage. Just give me a moment please.”
He smiled. “Take your time, ma’am.”
I returned his smile, crouching down, and unzipping the front pocket of my luggage. As I pulled out the small, navy blue wallet, the rush of footsteps perked my ears. The strong scent of cologne, like that of Armani, hit my senses, as I snapped my head up, gaping.
“I’ll pay for her,” said Richard, bending towards the open window. “Ten dollars I presume?”
Gripping the wallet, I quickly zipped the luggage, shooting up, and staring wide-eyed at Richard.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded. “Were you following me? And please, don’t accept his money, sir! I can pay my own fare—”
“Don’t listen to her,” Richard said, leaning down, staring eye level at the driver. “Bye. You can go now.”
“Now wait just a moment!” I snapped.
“It was a pleasure speaking to you, ma’am,” the driver called. “Farewell.”
As I walked around Richard, rushing to get to
the window, the cab sped on. I gripped my wallet in my palm, watching with a heavy heart, as the car drove through the street, disappearing into the misty road ahead.
“I didn’t even ask his name,” I whispered.
“What? Did you say something?” Richard’s voice chirped through my musing, as I turned towards him, glaring.
“Nothing,” I said. “What are you doing here? And…how did you know I was here? I don’t like being followed--”
“I wasn’t following,” he said. “I just noticed you getting into that cab, and you looked really disturbed. I was worried, that’s all. And, I’m presuming you’re heading to your home state?”
I sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted.
Walking around him, my palms circled over the cool handle of my luggage, dragging it towards the airport entrance. Richard followed, staring worriedly at me. I noticed, for a moment, that he’d changed from his formal attire, to a casual white polo shirt, and blue jeans. My lips pursed, as I realized that this was the first time he was dressed like he was going to the Laundromat rather than a business meeting.
“You’ve presumed correct,” I said. “I’m going back to Sandsville. Alone.”
Richard said nothing, as we walked through the opening double doors, the ceiling light of the airport streaming through the crowded room. I craned my neck to the side, noticing rows of heads lined on their desired airlines, conversing as they waited until their turn to book a ticket came.
My eyes searched for the airline to Ohio, and when I spotted it, at the farther end of the wide room, I sighed.
This was it. I was leaving New York. Leaving James.
A soft hand rested over mine, curling over my fingers that gripped the handle. I snapped my head towards Richard, pulling my hand out of his. Sliding the luggage to my side, I turned, facing him.
“I’m going with you,” he said. “This is what James asked for. He wanted me to go in his place, so I’m going—“
“James is nothing but a liar,” I snapped. “He made it all up. He wasn’t sick. He just didn’t want to go with me. He…no, never mind. It’s nothing. The point is, I’m going home alone. Can you respect that?”