Aftermath

It was raining again. It had rained yesterday and would probably rain tomorrow. It didn't concern him though. He would stay dry in his car, and it would reduce the chances of him being seen. He wasn't sure what to do if he was seen sitting in his car outside her flat so many nights in a row. Part of him wanted to be discovered, part wanted to leave before it happened. He had thought about the consequences. If the Police were called and he was forced to leave he would, but he would keep coming back. If The Husband saw him watching from the confines of his car it might end in violence and he couldn't promise to hold back. If She saw him and tried to get him to leave, he would... He didn't know what he would do. Still, in the last two weeks he hadn't been noticed once. That was why he was here.

Seven months ago he had begun a sudden passionate relationship with a female friend. It had taken him by surprise, he hadn't even considered it a possibility. Almost without warning they were seeing each other every other night and trying to hide their love from their friends. It had been the most intense time of his life. Finally someone wanted him for the way he was, the man he was. It was like a story come true. She filled his every waking thought, her face was burned into his brain, her voice haunted his ears. He was happier than he had ever been.

Just as suddenly as it had started it was over. No reasons, no excuses just a sudden lack of interest. Every time he tried to see her, She made sure other people were present or claimed a prior engagement. He wrote letters that went unanswered. He made dates She didn't keep. He was devastated. He wanted to die.

Five months down the line he wished he had had the courage to kill himself. It had been difficult to return to his boring life. Nothing interested him any more. None of the things he owned could hold his attention. The biggest problem was he still couldn't tell his friends what had happened. They mustn't ever find out. It would ruin Her life and that would ruin his. No one to talk to, nothing to do, nowhere to hide from the misery.

Time was his best friend now. Gradually he came to except his position. He started looking forward to the night in stead of dreading the sleepless hours. He began to concentrate on his work again. He was occasionally able to forget the pain She had inflicted. Still there were days when he would sob himself through the night thinking of her sweet kisses, her soft skin. Although he could still see her face in his mind and hear her voice on the wind, it seemed easier to forgive her.

It was a little thing that restarted the agony. Just something said in passing. Most of the time he would have ignored it, but this time it felt personal. She wanted to talk to two of his friends. Nothing odd in that? Why did She not want to talk to him? Granted they hadn't really spoken since it had stopped, but why did she name the others? It was as if a floodgate had opened. All the emotion he had been forced to bottle up for so long was released. Tears ran down his cheeks, his legs turned to jelly. It felt like his innards had been ripped out.

Luckily it was a weekend. By Monday morning he had cried himself out. Work went by in a haze. Nothing could penetrate the cloud of despair he was trapped in. As he sat looking at a plate of food that night he had an idea. It wasn't the best idea he ever had, but in his current state it was excusable. He would ask her to her face what he had done wrong. At least he would know. That was two weeks ago. Until last night he hadn't worked up enough courage to get out of his car. He still hadn't rung the bell.

There was a knock on his window. It startled him, he must have drifted off to sleep. When he turned his head he nearly screamed. She was standing in the rain outside his car. For a moment he fumbled with the window switch before he realised the electric windows didn't work with the ignition off. He waved her round to the passenger door. He could hear his heart beating, feel his blood pounding through his veins. He could hardly breathe. Somehow his hands were on the steering wheel, gripping tight, and his eyes were fixed straight ahead. He couldn't turn his head. He could tell she was saying something but he couldn't focus on the words.

It was raining. He was getting soaked. He didn't care. Nothing mattered any more. Since She had left the car, he had lost all his feelings. She had told him to leave. Not to come back again. She didn't want to see him anymore. His heart had died right there in the street. He had looked at the clock as she left. 12.15 in the morning. He had ceased to exist precisely then. He didn't recall choosing a direction, or making the journey, but he was here. He was standing on the edge of a cliff facing the sunrise. It surprised him how beautiful it looked. It reminded him of Her. Fitting he should think of her as he fell.