Thursday, 15 August 2013

Flash Fiction 2013 Shortlist, Sahil Chandwani

De-Fence

I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have done that.

Alcohol gets me; I shouldn’t have had as much as I actually did. I don’t even remember what really happened. I just wish I could change whatever it was. Amy has given me a lot more than I could ask for, and I feel so guilty for not being as good a husband as she has been a wife.

Last night I decided to tell her.

I thought of a million ways, what would hurt her least, made my wound of guilt deeper, I am no more the man I promised her to be. I didn’t realize I had been flipping channels all the time this was going in my head. I decided to tell her, I called her, I guess I called her more than once, I reckon. I wasn’t sure if I really called her or it was in my head.

She was doing the dishes, the dinner was so lifeless tonight, I spoke nothing, fearing the unspoken would come out, and she spoke nothing, and only her eyes spoke a lot. I bawled her name out, and the other second she was right there, she moved out hastily to be there when I called. It multiplied my contriteness and also my fear, all my love for her revived, I wanted to die that very moment, she doesn’t deserve me, I wanted it all back, like the very night I proposed marriage to her. In that urge to pull things from the past I chose to kiss, like our first, just desperately trying to recreate that moment and set everything right, I know she loves me, I could tell that by the way she touched, and it was pure, as always.

I could feel her, like I just knew no matter what she’ll always be there, period.
My pain unleashed, in tears though but I felt light at heart. I hadn’t yet told her but I chose not to, not tonight, I felt so safe yet so weak with her. I wanted things to quieten, and asked my love to put me to sleep, and she did.

Once again I had been selfish; I slept off heedless of the turmoil I may have left her with.

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