Chasing

KIAN’S POV

At the lobby, the employees look at me the same way as before while I just try hard to keep a steady gait as I exit the building. I don’t even know where I am going, I just know I want to get out of there. I want to find Leslie. I find my car and prepare its engine to run but Peter jumps in front of the car to stop me.

“Sir, please wait! You shouldn’t drive in that state.” He yells, breathing heavily since he practically chased me all the way down here. I care less about what state) am in and without saying a word to Peter, I reverse the car a little far back before driving it forward and going around him.

I drive at full speed, ignoring the speed limits and the angry ramblings of the other road users. I drive with no destination in mind while memories of my wife totally take over my mind.

She can’t be dead.

I say the words to myself over and over, fearing that I might actually believe that she is truly gone. I remain in denial until I have driven round the city and it all finally leads home.

‘I find Beverly waiting for me at the door and before I can take a step into the house, she pulls me into a hug. 1 stand frozen in her embrace, unblinking, unfeeling. I sense that she already saw the news too and this is her attempt at consoling me but I feel no inkling of comfort from her touch.

She pulls away and looks up at me, eyes glossy with unshed tears. I couldn’t understand her tears, she and Leslie were never close. She knows nothing about Leslie and yet her eyes water so much.

1

“I am so sorry, Kian.” She says. Something about her tears rubs me off the wrong way and I step away to the side, seeking comfort somewhere other than in the arms of a woman whose stomach grows daily with the evidence of my child. Evidence of my act of betrayal towards Leslie. Perhaps that is why I feel no comfort in her embrace, I feel too guilty to deserve consolation.

I head to Leslie’s room. I admit that I was tethering on the edge of insanity while driving back home, hoping that the moment from the day she asked for a divorce till now is nothing but a dream.

Leslie isn’t in her room. However, my mother along with some maids seem to be turning the room upside down.

“What are you doing?” I ask, feeling my anger grow as I already know what the answer will be.

My mother turns to me, surprised at my unexpected arrival back at home.

“Kian, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I asked you a question mum, what the hell are you doing in Leslie’s room?” I ask.

She crosses her arms, frowning.

“No, this room doesn’t belong to that girl anymore. She left and not only did she leave, she died. Why should we keep the things that used to belong to a dead girl? I’m getting the creeps just by standing in here.” Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Her response has my fists clenching. She already saw the news too and I’m not even surprised at how quick she is to do this. I am just pissed at how easy it is for her to do this, for her to brush it off like it is just another news.

12

+25 BONUS

I

“This is my house! I get to decide the things I want to keep, not you!” I restrain myself from yelling at my mother and she takes advantage of the respect I have for her by getting on my last nerves. She continues to dish out orders to the maids to pack up everything that belonged to Leslie. The sheets, the curtains, her clothes and shoes she didn’t leave with the first time.

“Mom!” I yell when she doesn’t stop to listen to me.

“I am your mother Kian and I know what’s best for you. Stop this tantrum and focus on the things that truly matter now with that girl out of the way, like getting married to Beverly.”

I am stunned by how heartless my mother can be.

“Marriage? Really? For heaven’s sake, someone just died! Leslie died!”

“So what? Did you kill her? You didn’t kill her. She left this house with her own legs and even dared to file for a divorce after years of leeching off you. In case you don’t know, I am cleaning this room up for my true daughter–in–law. The living must go on.”

She says and then gestures to the maids who are already done packing the room for them to leave with her. With them gone, I step slowly into the room. My legs grow weak in that moment and I find myself crashing to the ground by Leslie’s bed. I spent the last few hours being in denial but the reality hits me harder now in the empty and lonely room that used to belong to her.

She’s really gone.

My hands feel something under the bed. I bend over to drag out the medium–sized black box underneath the bed and slowly open it. Inside is a clothing item and a small note in Leslie’s beautiful handwriting that reads: “Happy Second Anniversary, Kian. I love you.”

My grip on the box tightens. This is the third year of our marriage but she never even got to give me the present for the second one because I never cared. I take out the clothing item in the box. It’s a white shirt, and it has my initials delicately embroidered on it.

It is what breaks me totally and turns me into a teary mess in the middle of her room as I grip the cloth tightly and come to the full realization that I lost Leslie–forever.