Fiction

Guilt Waves.


The brown curls framed her beautiful face, right now, lined with worry. She was waiting or him and he always came late. However today was their third wedding anniversary and he had promised to come home sooner, have dinner with her and then accompany her to the beach for a walk. It wasn’t too much to ask but somehow she did not believe that he would remember. She wondered what kept him so preoccupied lately. So much that he hadn’t even responded to her whispered endearments as she kissed him goodbye that morning.

She poured herself another glass of wine and looked out at the sea. Appearing calm, almost always, yet exuding a strength which when unleashed could destroy worlds, something she had been an unfortunate witness to. Much like him. Calm, serene yet holding back a passion so deep, so powerful. A desire that she had felt in their very first kiss, and had responded to too. Yet somehow, lately she could feel him fading away, getting subdued and she was beginning to worry that he was moving away from her.

Perhaps this is what they call the “mid-life” crisis. Perhaps they were finally falling out of love. She breathed an audible sigh as she recollected their hurried courtship, their simple wedding, their struggle and most importantly, the life they built together. Today was a test of time. A test of love. She knew it was cruel on her part but she needed to know if she still mattered. Neither did she inform his secretary about her dinner nor did she even drop him a reminder. Her heart betrayed her, beating faster as time ticked by.

Suddenly, a wave crashed into the sand castle right before her eyes, demolishing in a moment what she had spent hours building. She could feel her a lump rising as she stared at the clock. A car honked. Her pulse raced. The doorbell rang. And she sagged against her chair, limp with guilt and relief. He was home. He was.

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