XXXII

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ANALISSE

I gape at the scene before me, apparently my husband is utterly in dismay, that I barely exist these days. I supposed he can't be blamed. He could've tried, though.

His day has continuously been about watching me, cry in his room and pretend afterwards that he's alright, then ignore me. It's as if I'm at fault.

These days he appears better than I expect. Maybe because he starts working out and I sneakily watch him when I could. A wondrous life of two wealthy youths I figure. Despite rarely interacting verbally, Luciano has done many things to accommodate me to be comfortable. He even bought flower seeds for me and bought me things I didn't ask for because I happen to be on my period.

He's truly charming, a beautiful soul. I knew something within me has forgiven him. Perhaps I now need that explanation as it seems dire whenever it haunts me. The constant destruction in my mind blinds me from being mature, although I deserve to be as harsh, maybe I became worse than I should.

I seem to lose all rationality when it comes to us, mainly because of how petty he was with me.

Now he sits beside me, glaring evidently and unable to stop himself, clearly. "Stop looking at me," I stare, annoyed by how lovely he looks. His dreamy face is so dull these days, his eyes are red whenever I look into them. My grey sky, I once called them. Now it remains dark and stormy, lifeless. I could feel myself falling into guilt.

He smiles, oh his dashing smile. It's dreadfully dejected. The more I grow to be better he looked the same as he was on our wedding day. Others might've left unnoticed but I see him, he didn't look the way I expect him to, and he hasn't been fine probably longer than I am.

I want to hold him, but I need his apology. I have to pretend longer than I liked to until he caves.

"You are a gift to the eyes. So pretty," he says, and I've never wanted to grasp my heart as much as I do now. I couldn't breathe, Gods I want to die as my breath caught itself in my throat.

He often showers me with lovely words, always worshipping my looks, and who I am. But I struggle to accept them, although I grew confident whenever he speaks, I don't understand why he says them at all. It relieves me, but it hurts me as I think of his deceit.

"Don't say that, you don't mean it," I doubt, he doesn't like me. Why would he say those things when he only used me, he said it himself, didn't he? Why is he lying again?

"I'm not in the mood to lie, Analisse. I meant my words, I won't lie to you anymore," he turns his head on the TV, disappointment fills his face and he releases a loud sigh. I begin to realise I've been more unreasonable but how can't I when I still recall the smirk on his face as he called me names in a vile context? I held so much distaste for him and myself, but I knew deep down he was not at fault. He couldn't be. If he still loves me, or I suppose he pretends to because we are married. I look at the man next to me, the way his lips pout and the gloss in his eyes were clear to me. He's truly vulnerable whenever he's with me but he couldn't be now.

I'm so in love with him, I let all my hatred pass me just by viewing his face. Am I blinded by my love to see past his manipulation? He could lie again, and I'll suffer again. "Why are you looking at me like that, Analisse?" His deep voice woke me and I stood up, I can't bare any more of his presence because I might touch him.

I left the house and walk to my garden. There are some flowers before mine but I see sprouts that blossom in this heat. As I sat I couldn't help but think of him— how this could all be a lie again. A single tear falls and I place my wrist on my face to wipe it.

But another fall and I began to grow helpless against them. I waste my day crying until evening when I realised I'd fallen asleep in the garden. I am still asleep but I'm being carried in his arms. In minutes, I landed on a mattress and I feel him sit beside me.

"Ti amo, angelo. I hope you let me open up to you soon. I can't see you constantly crying this way," he whispers, his hand petting my head and he placed a soft kiss on my temple.

Perhaps I've wallowed too deep to see reasons. I may need him to end this as my lack of knowledge in this matter is the reason behind my agony.

I want his touch, to be engulfed in his arm and cradled as I hear his heartbeat. I crave him, so desperately that my heart wears me out whenever he's away. It beats so strongly in his presence and I somehow think that my soul is made to be with his.

I miss him, and I know I love him. Could his truth truly be my cure?

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I wanna slap both of them for being so dumb..

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