Confession: The Funeral

You’re dead to me.

That is what I’ve told myself the moment your plausible facade surfaced above your murky ocean of lies. I don’t know when or for how long have you been feeding me with betrayal for breakfast, deception for lunch, and ignorance for dinner and still manage to kiss me with poison filled lips of eternal life. The mere thought of what you did sickens me. It’s like a broken record playing on repeat. A nightmare that would haunt me whenever it pleases; asleep or not.

It wasn’t intentional. Don’t make a huge fuss about it. This is the real world, not a fairytale so stop expecting everything to go your way. Things like this happens a lot you know. That’s what he said when I questioned him. He was on the phone that day, talking to Brent when I visited him at work.

“She doesn’t need to know Brent.”

“She won’t suspect any of it. She’s too naive of everything.”

“Even if she did, it’s easy to win her trust and apology back.”

“You know how she is right?”

Those were the things he said. I was at the other side of the door, listening to his every word.

“There’s no announcement of anything Brent. Fiancée? No no no. I can’t do that.”

“That’s a load of bull man. She knows her place. I’m sure I told her about it.”

He chuckled and fired his last bullet. “She loves me too much to even get mad at me.”

The atmosphere became suffocating and cold. The air strangled me with force that it felt like I’m drowning and my body wanted to shut off, except my mind did otherwise. With the little bit of strength left in me, I silently picked up my broken self and forced my legs to move. It was all too much for me that I didn’t bother knocking on the door. I opened it and went inside, startling him in the process. He told Brent that he’ll call him back. His eyes were fixated on me. His demeanor cold and rigid, a contrast to what his eyes were showing. None of us dared say anything. It was like our gazes were enough to converse what our lips can’t say.

“How much of it have you heard?” he asked, breaking the blanket of silence around us.

“A good amount to make me question your humanity,” I told him. The expression on my face was stoic so to hide my trembling voice.

“Not here Vivienne. Let’s talk when we get home,” he said. I didn’t want to argue with him so I left. Pathetic wasn’t it? However, I didn’t wish to stoop down to his level and cause a scene, so I went home and cleared my mind of its clutter.

I waited for him patiently though my mind was racing with questions that desperately needs some answering. When I heard the jingle of his keys, I took a deep breath and waited for him to settle across from where I was seated.

“You know what I want to hear so speak up,” I started, trying my best to sound calm and remain on my seat without lashing out on him.

“As you please. Brent and I were discussing about the upcoming reunion of our batch in college and—”

“Stop lying. You’re already caught red-handed so why coat it? Just say it already!” I said, cutting him off and slightly raising my voice.

“It’s the truth Vivienne. We were talking about the reunion and the announcement I was about to make.”

“What announcement? You don’t mean…”

“Exactly. It’s the promise I made to you.”

“If it’s that then why did you say you can’t tell them?” I asked sounding so desperate.

“I did promise you that but why are you so impatient? I told you to wait a little longer didn’t I? You’re my fiancée but announcing it to everyone isn’t that easy,” he said. Irritation clear in his voice.

“Why? Why isn’t it easy? You’re just going to tell them about it so why is it so hard? Why do I have to wait?” I said looking him straight in the eye, trying to coax him in to answering.

“It’s a little complicated, I-I…” he stuttered. He was avoiding my gaze and was fidgeting with his hands.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” I asked calmly, fingers slightly trembling and tears threatening to fall. My heart was beating furiously as if it’s trying to jump out of my chest. It was a question that every one of us is afraid of asking, for the answer is something that will either build or break us. I was met with dead silence that I thought would last for an eternity until he spoke. He took a deep breath and looked at me dead in the eyes. His eyes were glass-like, his face was expressionless, and suddenly I found the two of us completely separated by tall, Grey walls. With a voice as smooth as silk and silvery; he confessed.

He was having an infidelity with one of their seniors in the company. He told me she was a widow and somehow, they enjoyed each other’s company. She is not aware of the engagement, for he never told anyone in the company just yet. The worst thing is that most of the employees knew me as his ‘close friend.’ When I asked him when did this affair started, he just shrugged his shoulders off and told me it didn’t matter because he was planning on breaking it off anyway and that at the end of the day, I was the one he was marrying. It infuriated me to hear him casually talking about this as if it’s a hobby that everyone has. The fact that he lied about me and the engagement to his officemates and everyone else added fuel to the fire.

I was enraged by all of the things that he said so I stood up and asked him why and how could he do something like that? My voice was raised and was laced with frustration and pent up anger. I was flailing my hands out of exasperation and the tears that I was holding back poured out. It was as if a dam broke in my eyes, the tears and sobs won’t stop. He grabbed my shoulders and told me this: It wasn’t intentional. Don’t make a huge fuss about it. This is the real world, not a fairytale so stop expecting everything to go your way. Things like this happens a lot you know. And with that, he went upstairs and left me trembling with all of the emotions I was feeling.

Later that evening he slept next to me. He kissed my cheeks and secured his arms around me, telling me that I shouldn’t make a big deal out of it and that I’ll get over it in no time like it was just a bad memory waiting to be removed and be stocked in a vault where no one will be able to touch it.

The next morning, when he had gone for work, I took all of my things and left a note:

I could forgive you for what you have done but that doesn’t mean that I could, for the rest of my life, live with you without doubting every word that you’ll tell me and every action that you showed me.

I took the symbol of our future’s promises and the chain that would’ve bound me to him off my ring finger and put it on the center table.

 

You’re dead to me.

I told myself and left, because this funeral is over and this loss is something I wouldn’t grieve for.

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