24/02/2024
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
"Hey...is Sara with you? I just came home, and she's not...." he spoke, anxiously pinching his fingers.
"Sara's in the hospital right now, Harry."
"The hospital?? Wha-What happened to her?"
The line went blank as Harry bolted out of his apartment and onto the streets, shouting for a taxi approaching in his direction.
"Keep the change," he hurried out of the cab and burst into the hospital, his eyes darting around, looking for Zara.
"Where is she? Oh my God, Zara. What happened to Sara? Is she alright?"
"Really, Harry? You're asking if she's alright? She's here coz of you...You did this to my sister. You told her she was not 'wife' enough for you?"
"Look, we'll talk about this later, alright?" Harry then rushed to meet the doctor.
"Doctor, is my wife alright? Can I see her?"
"It's a mild attack. Nothing to worry about...She's out of danger. But she needs to take care of her health now. Yeah, please, go ahead and only ten minutes coz she needs to rest."
Harry shakily walked into the ward, trying to force a smile as he approached Sara
"Hey, I know that I...What I did was...Look, I'm sorry, and let's just...."
But Sara cut Harry off.
"Don't be too hard on yourself. You don't have to. Coz you know what? I don't want to hear it anymore."
"Honey, please, let me explain."
"I don't wanna hear anything. Not anymore. I'm done. Divorce is the only thing I want."
"Wha-What? Why...Sara, look, you got to be kidding...You're taking it too far, alright?"
"Why? You're asking me why?" Sara scowled. "Coz I buried my life alive, Harry. I had ambitions, plans...and dreams. I was at the top of my class in college. Several interior design companies, so many of them, were impressed with my portfolio and offered to join them in New York.
"Honey, see, you're just complicating everything. Let's just go home and sort everything...."
"Shut up. Just shut up," Sara raised her voice. "Or just leave if you're not ready to listen."
"I chose you over every opportunity, and it ruined my life. You have a successful career. You have respect in society and recognition as a game designer. But me? You've been only treating me like a tailpiece. Like a dog living in a cozy cage, doing the same stale chores day and night. And yet, you have the audacity to tell me that all I do is nothing?"
"Please, honey, I'm sorry, alright?" Harry tried to calm Sara down. "Look, everything I do is for you guys. I want us to be happy. I know I've made mistakes...Hell lot of mistakes. But please, I deserve a chance to make things right. We can work this together, okay?"
"No, I can't do this anymore. I can't be fake to myself. To you. And to the kids. I'm 32, but I feel like a crone. I just hate you, Harry. You're so disgusting."
"What about the kids, Sara?"
"I'm in a tough spot to provide for them...So they're staying with you."
Harry spoke no more and stormed out of the hospital to pick up his kids from Zara's house.
"Daddy, when will mommy come home? Aunt Zara said Mommy's sick. What happened to Mommy?" The boys asked Harry.
"Your mommy will be back very soon, sweeties."
"I hope so," he whispered to himself.
As Harry entered the kitchen, a familiar smell of spices assaulted his senses. He'd always find Sara making dinner around that time. But that day, the kitchen was bare, with a sink overflowing with dirty dishes.
"Okay, so who wants pizza for dinner?" he distracted the kids.
Harry ordered the pizza since he knew the boys loved it and hoped it would cheer them up.
The kids chuckled as they gobbled their favorite ice cream and pizza. Harry squeezed a smile, but deep down, he was not entirely convinced that Sara meant everything she said. He believed she might be going through a nervous breakdown and hoped things would settle down once she calmed down.
"...And don't let the bed bugs bite!" Harry chuckled as he kissed his children goodnight after dinner.
"But the divorce part is still hitting hard, man. I mean...She's never said such a thing before," Harry told his friend Alex on a phone call later that night.
"Women are so unpredictable, pal. She could've just cracked up. So chill."
"Yeah, I was thinking the same. Talk to you later, man!"
Harry dozed off to sleep and wouldn't wake up until he felt two little hands jolting him awake the next morning.
"Daddy? Daddy, wake up. You have to drop us at school. We'll be late. Daddy?"
"Sonny, what are you doing in my...." Harry rose, drooling on his pillow, and leaped out of bed in his blue-white striped shorts at seeing the time.
"Holy—!" he gasped. "Give Daddy a minute. I'll just...run...go brush," he chased his son out of the room and bolted to the bathroom and then to the kitchen.
"Okay, guys, get your shoes on while I get the breakfast ready," he told the boys as he ran around the kitchen, gathering the ingredients to make French toast.