A marriage based on lies, in order for him to protect the one he loves. But who will protect her if she is not the one he loves?
What could go wrong? When in this marriage, one tries to forget while the other tries to find a piece of love.
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Since the day of the dinner, Jay and I had not met. To be exact, seven days have passed, two of which he has not spent at home. I was glad for once that in the huge house, two people could live together without having to see each other. He lived on the first floor and my room was on the upper one. The only people I ever met were members of the staff, women who'd come to clean, the gardener and the butler who'd come to serve me food. The house wasn't mine, I didn't belong here. So I had decided not to explore it too much and to create an environment in it. In the end, I don't think I would spend much time there.
The hours are difficult to spend in the walls of a lonely house; I decided to sit on the couch in my room, where there was a window, so that I could read a book. Beyond the window one could see a garden full of roses, mostly red, a little further on a swimming pool and in the distance there was a small forest. A beautiful sight to wander in, but that's if I didn't have my favorite book in my hands.
"Reminders of him"
This was one of the saddest books I've ever read. Well, at least until the part where I was reading. I flipped through the pages slowly until I reached where I had placed a pendant. I couldn't help myself, but to think how sad it is to lose a person. Together with the person, you lose a part of yourself, of life, of all those things that were once a living proof of his existence. When you lose a person, you don't mourn the day of the funeral, it's just a phase, you mourn every day, over and over again. You mourn every morning when you wake up and drink your favorite coffee; when you look out of the garden and see the most beautiful flower; when reading the pages of a book or even when listening to a song played randomly somewhere.
People say that it gets better with time, but I firmly believe that is time what makes it harder. It makes you forget of the exact way things were. The exact scent they smelled. I breath lightly as i think about this part. I have forgotten!
So sad! So empty! I have forgotten their faces. Their scent. A tear starts to come out of my eyes, but the sound of some heavy and fast steps coming from the corridor, didn't let it fall on my cheek.
The steps stopped for a moment. Calmness. Then the door slowly opened to the corner of the wall.
His large figure stood behind the door, his head down looking at the floor. I closed the book and placed it on my lap, my eyes still fixed on him. As he raised his head, our eyes collided with each other and I could see a shadow of sadness in them. They were almost full of tears, swollen and red. As if he had been crying for hours. Was he sad? Something started to eat me from the inside, wanting to know what could have brought him to this state. He put his feet forward to walk a few steps towards me. Steps that seemed uncertain about the action they were doing.
The next second he was standing in front of me with his eyes still fixed on me. He looked so hopeless. He sat on his knees. Then he put his head on my lap, making me raise my hands slowly and together with the book in them. My lips parted to say something, but hearing their light collision, he responded by saying.
