Waiting For You

A lovely couple living in a dream home with a chemistry to die for. But all good things must come to an end and this story, begins right there.

I stared out the window, hugging my knees, watching the rain pouring over the city. The view from the 13th floor was not that bad. A gentle breeze caused a few droplets to fall on my cheek breaking my train of thoughts. 

With the brown cup of coffee in my hand in contrast to the white flowy dress I wore, I gently got off the platform by the window and looked around the apartment. The walls were white, the curtains were white, and the sofa was just a tad bit off-white. The table was however made of dark wood but it was decorated with a vase that held my favorite, white lillies. Its water needed to be changed though.

I walked to the table and placed my coffee mug on it. For a second I was worried of causing a condensation mark on its surface before recollecting that it was hot coffee. He hated not using a coaster and leaving a mark. That’s just one of the few things that made him so special. 

I walked to the wall that was decorated with our pictures. My eyes stopped on a framed photograph of him. His dark brown hair falling over his forehead. His cute adorable lips that held a smile. A smile automatically adorned mine watching the crinkles that formed beside his eyes. 

 I can’t believe how much I miss him. The thought made my heart feel heavy in my chest. I moved onto the next photograph that was of us together. I was only as tall as his shoulders, with him towering over me, his head slanting towards mine. It was such a cute photograph. 

I remember the times when I had to stand on my toes to get a kiss from him. Even then I couldnt reach him. And it wasn’t fair that he’d stand on his toes to avoid me. Although soon he’d laugh and lift me up, helping me finish my task. 

He loved white. He loved simplicity. And I loved earth and nature. That’s why we had reached a compromise and decorated our apartment in white, brown and green. The walls and fabrics were white or pastel but furniture was mostly earthen and wood. But it was his idea to place small plants around the apartment to bring in the green element. I was much too touched by his gesture. It was one of the happiest days of my life. 

He loved cooking. In fact he had taught me a lot of recipes. It was his favorite past time. He’d get so excited if I let him teach me. 

Once we baked cupcakes as a competition. Him v/s me. We had to bake 9 cupcakes in the shortest amount of time. To not let him win, I’d hide his spoon and he’d hide my ingredients. And if anytime I had gotten ahead, he’d throw flour on me to keep me from winning. 

Of course at the end, mine were not as good as his. He won the cupcake competition and we threw mine in the dustbin because ‘someone’ had switched my powdered sugar with salt.

Standing alone in the kitchen I laughed at the memory. And then my face fell.

Where is he? I wondered. 

He should have come home by now.

I looked at the clock and then at the door.  Just then the door knob turned and it slowly opened. He walked in closing the door behind him. After keeping his bag on the table, he fell onto the sofa. Of course my coffee mug had disappeared by then. But the mark once left due to lack of coaster was clearly visible.

He stared at it for a second before hiding it under a magazine. He was trying to forget me. And he should. I know that. The sooner he forgets me, the sooner I disappear. 

He closed his eyes and sunk into the sofa. I took the spot across from him. 

Does he have a head ache? I wondered. 

He should sleep. Take rest. He has been having trouble sleeping. He has been missing me. He shouldn’t.  I’m here, even after all this time, only because he misses me so much. 

And I miss him too. But his health and happiness is my biggest concern. And if that requires him to forget me, for me to disappear forever, then I’m okay with it.

I stood up and walked to him. Standing beside, I touched his forehead, like I always do.

I swear, once, he had felt my touch. Immediately opening his eyes, he had looked around for the source. And I was right there. But he couldn’t see me. 

But this time he couldn’t feel my touch. He is recovering. That’s good. That is all I want.

I kissed his forehead before moving away from. Letting him rest, I resumed my position by the window, watching the rain fall over the city.

Aleena T Joseph

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