"The tragedy of life is not death, but what we let die inside of us while we live." - Norman cousins
Elsa's POV
I clench my eyes as the bright shades of orange flicker on my closed eyelids disturbing my sleep. I groan and turn around covering my face with my pillow. I extend my arm to search for any signs of warmth next to me, but my hand bangs and bounces directly on the soft bed. I try to open the slits of my eyes slightly, blinking several times before adjusting it with the sudden bright exposure.
The white bed sheet besides me lay plain and empty. My lips automatically turn into a frown as I find myself alone in the huge room, again. I hate waking up alone. But I am use to it now. I sign and stretch myself before attempting to pull myself up from the round king sized bed.
"Damn. He left the curtains wide open again," I mutter to myself irritated. I rub my eyes and all of a sudden a hand slips under my arched back to lift me up a bit and my lips get unexpectedly encountered by a familiar another pair. I gasp at the sudden gesture and open my eyes wide and a slight half smile spreads through my face as a tall, fair, all-suited-up, handsome man comes in sight.
"Happy anniversary, my love," he pulls away maintaining a bright smile, which makes his eyes glisten. The incidents of the previous night dawns into me and suddenly my attention is averted to my body covered with nothing but a thin bed sheet. "You're looking extremely beautiful," he says kissing my forehead gently, but meaningfully. I try to smile back. It's very unusual to find myself complimented. But today is special I guess.
"Happy anniversary to you too," I say in my croaked morning voice and put on a comforting smile. Now that I am completely awake, I notice his fresh looks and neatly put up light brown hair. His deep blue eyes lost in mine.
"I see you're all set to leave for work," I say looking at the suitcase he's holding. I pull myself up, holding the bed sheet over my chest intact. He looks at me and winces. He puts his bag down and gets on his knees besides me holding one of my hands.
"Honey, it's an important meeting. But I promise I'll make it quick. I'll be back for lunch. We'll hang out all day and I've also arranged a date for you tonight," he smiles enthusiastically.
"It's alright. You carry on," I say putting up a smile.
"Thanks, babe. I'll be back soon." He gets up and gives me a peck on my cheek, collects his suitcase and leaves the room, giving me a goodbye smile.
I sigh resting my head on the cushioned headrest, alone in the gigantic plain cream colored box with floor to ceiling windows and a purple mini-chandelier; I call my room. Today we completed sixteen years of our marriage; Seems just yesterday until I see my sixteen year old boy, or if I look myself in the mirror. I don't look old or so-I'm just thirty-four-but different; A lot different, in every way possible.
I check the clock hanging on the opposite wall. It's just 8 in a Sunday morning. I huff and get down from the bed and walk towards the bathroom.
****
"Troy," I knock the door and hear the rustling of papers from the other side. I wait outside for my son to open up. I am not really the 'barge in' kind. I hear soft murmurs. On account of the silent surroundings, the other side of door is easy to hear.
"Come in," he yells from inside. I turn the door knob and step inside, on the same continuing marble flooring. I am welcomed into a familiar surrounding; another shade of brown painted walls, a floor to ceiling glazed window directly opposite to where I am standing, another huge king-sized bed and on that, a sixteen year old boy with light-brown to almost blonde hair, blue eyes looking at me with a warm welcoming smile. There was something different about that smile.
My lips twitch automatically up to my eyes as I look at my son. I step forward towards him and take him onto a hug. Familiar warmth creeps into my heart and I feel peaceful. I kiss his forehead and move a bit away still holding his hand. Such a charming teen! Just like his dad. When I look at him, I see younger version of Eric. Even if you try, you'll never find a difference. On the other hand, from within, he's just like me. Being with him, still keeps me connected with myself.
"Happy anniversary, Mom," he smiles and kisses the back of my palm and I could help but leave out a chuckle.
"Thank you, darling." I hold my black pencil skirt and bow to him and he laughs amusedly. He is more romantic than my husband ever could be.
"Oh, I've got something for you. I thought I'll give it to both of you together, but I couldn't find dad. Where is he?" he moves towards the side table and opens the drawer.
"He had to attend a meeting," I say noticing his movements. He takes out a brown bag and places it on the bed in front of me. I sit besides it and open it. He sits on his knees and rubs the back of his neck. He does that when he's nervous and looks extremely cute at the same time. I already pity all the girls.
"Umm... I didn't get a chance to wrap it up," he hesitantly says.
"You don't know how to wrap a gift, Troy," I say holding my laugh.
"That's not true. I just didn't get time to," he says, frowning.
I just raise a brow and nod side to side. I open up the bag completely and put my hand in and feel a solid framed object. I give a wondering look to Troy and he bites his lip. I remove the object and I was right, it is a frame. I skip a beat when I look at the wooden frame holding a collage of mine and Eric's time together ever since we met. A smile creeps through my face but something clutches my heart.
'Time passes by 570Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡlIfpcUnfCZ
But true love never fades away570Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhUpNEPOJaz
In each other's heart forever 570Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡioIUE5RRu2
I hope you stay' 570Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1Xjmrv3r7R
I love you mom and dad - Happy anniversary570Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLzhq5QYKFK
-your beloved son and a reminder of your love-Troy
My eyes become teary looking at those words, but in pain; the one that I never understood all this years. Or maybe understood, but didn't want to give a name to it.
"I made it on my own," his voice snaps me out. I wipe my wet lashes off with my finger.
"It's beautiful. Thank you so much," I take him into a deep hug and kiss his cheeks. "I never knew you write so well." It isn't a talent either I or Eric possesses.
"Well my... friend helped me out with that." He is still looking nervous. But I think it's clear that I appreciate and like it very much. Then what is he nervous about?
"Oh, tell him thanks too. It really is amazing dear. Thank you." I look at him meaningfully to assure him.
"Her," He says.
"What?" I pardon myself thinking I missed out what he said.
"It's 'her'...I mean she's a girl." He again looks down playing with the white bed sheet, similar to mine. Everything in the house is pretty much the same-Rich and elegant. All the walls are different shades of brown, golden lights, white bed sheets, French windows and protruding ceilings with some sort of charming, different sizes of chandeliers. In short, that's Eric.
It's her. Those words echo in my ears again. Oh that's what he's been all fidgety about. I smirk at him and say, "well tell her it's beautiful and that I thanked her."
I see his cheeks flushing as I emphasized the word 'her'. I smile and ruffle his hair. My boy's growing up, I guess.
"Was she who you were talking to when I knocked?" I raised an eyebrow with a confident smile.
His jaw drops opens and he says, "What? I...umm no. Umm...how did you-know?" He bites his lip again.
"I'm your mother, Troy." I get up from the bed clutching the frame and with my smile intact. "Have fun." I wink at him and move towards the door.
"Oh and," I put a sudden break to my pace and look back at him, "we will be going out in sometime so the house is on you." I smile and walk out.
****570Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSDCJP2rszi
I stand in front of the mirror staring at my reflection in a long black strapless, satin flowing gown. A blue diamond necklace takes away all the attention, more as my hair is tied up in a high bun. The dressing, as I assume is for some posh restaurant.
My gaze averts to another reflection moving towards me; a very charming six feet figure all suited up. It is a usual sight to see. Everything about Eric screams perfection.
His eyes gleam as he takes in my appearance and smiles. "Ready?"
I nod and smile back.
In no time, we are standing at gates of just another hotel of my life. Westin shining in blue at top of the glazed building, one that would catch your eye from miles away, one that could be seen through my window.
The door man opens the glass door and Eric walks in, maintaining his posture with my arm tucked in his. I smile and mutter to the door-man, a thank you.
Like I thought, we are sitting in between an elegant room too similar for me to describe. I chew quietly on some kind of a chicken dish whose name was too unique to remember and slurp down my red wine, nothing new to my taste buds, but delicious at the same time.
"I have something for you. I hope you like it," he smiles and takes out a tiny velvet box from his pocket. It isn't difficult to guess what it consists of. He opens it excitedly and places it right in front of me. A sharp light glistens though it, unlike my eyes. A golden ring, holding a red crystal lies dominant within my reach.
"It's..."
"Ruby," both of us says simultaneously. I smile and thank him. I watch the crystal accepting my ring finger as he slips it in. Unlikely, I wasn't really surprised but I put on a happy smile. My life was full of shiny objects but none in my heart.
"I haven't got anything for you. I'm sorry," I say, still looking at the ring. What would you give a man who already has everything?
"I have you. That's enough." Now I was surprised. I lean forward ignoring the table that gets pressed against my belly, harder as I lean further, and kiss him. He reflects my moves. I smile to myself and continue with my food.
"Umm...I didn't wanna raise the topic now, but your mother called," he says, looking deep in my eyes as if examining my reaction.
I hold on to my morsel and take in what he just said. Why would my mother call him? I think I know the answer to it.
"She wants us to come by for your father's funeral on Friday," he says, with his expressions reflecting a bit of sympathy.
I chew on to my morsel, acting unaffected. "I've got work." I have not totally mastered the act of putting on a poker face, I realize as I gulp back the lump forming in my throat.
"It's his tenth death anniversary, Elsa-" he presses my palm to comfort me, but that isn't helping at all "-and you haven't visited after the first one."
"Nor do I find a need to, Eric. He is not my father. And his death doesn't mean a thing to me." I wipe my mouth with a table cloth and put it back down harshly.
"And you were right; you shouldn't have bought this topic up right now." I turn my folk and spoon upside down, crossed against each other, on the plate.
I know my mother called him because she thought he'll be able to convince me to come.
"I know you don't like him because of the man he was and the things he did, but he was your father nonetheless. He took away his sins with him..."
"And for good," I snap in between, not able to maintain my sanity anymore.
"How long are you going to keep a grudge against what's already gone?" His forehead forms infinite wrinkles as he presses his lips in a tight line.
"Forever." I can never forgive this man they call my father. Who once I thought was too.
ns 15.158.61.5da2
