In Holy Matrimony (editing)

Chapter 3

                  Chapter 3

                       Annabelle

                               Now

It's the perfect family house. The kitchen looks as though it had been designed for a happy family of four to make pancakes on Sunday mornings, as if it emitted laughter and warmth. However, sadly we are, or were only a family of two, and the only thing this kitchen ever saw was a very well used microwave to heat up ready made meals. The ice machine also got a lot of love for all of my glasses of wine and Victor's whiskey on the rocks.

All of the floors are covered in light washed wood panels. Accompanied by large windows allowing the sunlight to seep into the house making it even more homey. That was my whole idea, my vision for our home. Nothing is ever out of place, not a single one of those ugly knickknacks Victor's grandmother left him or one of my many fake plants. Lord knows I can't look after real plants, those poor things would die after a few days with me. Nothing in our house is even slightly askew.

The books are all packed tightly against one another, they're either colour coded or arranged by author or the alphabet. I'm extremely OCD when it comes to my myriad amount of bookshelves in the house. Sadly, this house doesn't feel like home anymore, not to me and I don't think it feels like home to Victor anymore either. Not that having a loving home to go back to after a hard day at the office means much to him. When Victor comes home he goes straight to his office and continues working. I've thought about just putting a mattress in there for the man seeing as he lives there in any case.

The living room has hardly any life in it, despite the name. The television hasn't heard stomach deep laughs or heart warming cries in a couple of months. The leather couches have grown cold with neglect and the CD player has been stricken with silence. On the seldom occasion that one of us did watch a movie in the living room it was always alone. We haven't watched a good movie together in ages. Lately all I watch is reality television in the entertainment room upstairs. I know what you're thinking, reality television is a load of bullshit. That's exactly why I love it so much, it reminds me that even though my life is falling apart that I will never be that crazy. Hopefully.

The dining room is accompanied by a large fireplace, a long oak table is sprawled across the area with lavish golden seats to entertain. A maroon Persian carpet, detailed with swirls and various other designs lays dismally on the ridiculously expensive floors. I still remember Victor and I butting heads because of the bloody floors price. All of the photo frames across the house used to be filled with wedding photos and various other joyous moments have now been emptied. I've also burned all of those photos in my memories. In reality, they're lying in a box, in the wine cellar along with our marriage. I , however, insisted on keeping most of the photo frames. I actually have quite a lot of packing to do still. But procrastination has gotten the best of me. Or maybe I just don't want to face the coldness and melancholy of reality. Reality can be a real hard slap in the face. I'm thinking that I might just need that though.

We spent endless hours working on the renovation of what was supposed to be our dream house. Victor designed his office with the utmost aura of sophistication, even his decor had to be a tool to boost his fragile ego. His office is home to a myriad amount of business books that he has never bothered to read, it just makes him look more important. His office is dark, much darker than the rest of the house.

Though it also has large windows, they are covered by dark maroon curtains, the whole office is drowning in dark expensive oak and the smell of only the best whiskey that money can buy. I think that Victor wasn't even working the whole time he was in there. His office had been an escape for him. A place for him to get away from the world, and probably his pathetic marriage.