The saddest colour, she thought as she tiptoed across the bedroom floor, it took away the blood red of his lips, the sparkle of his eyes, the swarthy colour of his complexion, yet it allowed for so much else.
Allowed her to see the duplicity of their union , the beauty that had blinded her to the impossibility of it all, the delusion she, like so many others clung to—that love might somehow make it work.
She stood for a minute, maybe two, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he slept, taking those precious seconds to capture his image for the final time, to take in his beauty while she still could. She didn’t want to wake him up, didn’t want his eyes to open, because when they did, truth would invade—a truth she couldn’t live with—so she took that precious moment before it ended, held onto it just as long as she possibly could.
‘I’m leaving.’
Two words that should have been shouted were instead softly spoken, yet the impact was just as deep. She watched as his body unfurled beneath the sheets, as crystal eyes clouded on opening.
‘It’s not what it looks like—’
‘It doesn’t matter anyway.’ For the longest time he stared at her, waited for her to elaborate, and finally she did. ‘It doesn’t matter what happened tonight because I’m leaving anyway. I’m just not happy with you, Hunter.’
Any protest he was mustering faded then. Whatever it was on the tip of his tongue remained forever unsaid as he paid her the greatest of insults. He just let out a long weary sigh, turned on his side and, pulled the sheet up over his shoulders.
‘Well, that’s it, then.’
His boredom, his blatant dismissal of her was the final straw. She felt as if a fist had been rammed into her stomach, the pain so violent she thought she might vomit. His outline beneath the sheet was utterly still and suddenly Lily felt like kicking him, felt like slapping him for his inaction,
‘That’s it?’ Her voice was rising with every word, her whole body rigid with tension, every fibre in her being taut, her mounting fury fuelled by his inaction. That he could just lie there and take it as he reduced her to what she’d dreaded becoming—another woman whose heart he’d broken, another tearful female sobbing at the bitter end. ‘I tell you I’m leaving and you just roll over and go to sleep!’
‘Lily…’ He pulled himself up on his elbow, opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it, the anger that had been curiously absent trickling in as she took in his naked form beneath the sheets, his rumpled clothes on the floor and the pungent smell of Abigail’s perfume hanging in the air. ‘It’s not how it seems…’
‘Don’t!’ She spat out the word. ‘Don’t even try, Hunter.’ She’d never felt anger before—she’d thought she’d felt it. Sitting, reading her father’s lover’s letters had been a pretty good dress rehearsal, finding her fiancé in bed with her best friend an impressive warm-up, but it didn’t compare to the churning rage sweeping through her now. Not churning, boiling, fury unleashing so rapidly it hurt, hurt so badly she wanted to inflict it, too, wanted to kick him out of his inactions, wanted him to feel a fraction of the agony that drenched her now.
‘You really think you’re better than everyone else—you really think that your money and looks somehow mean that you can write your own rules. Well, guess what?’ She was shouting, really shouting, her anger rising as still he lay there, his eyes closed as if waiting for it pass, clearly more than used to emotional ends! ‘I’m better than you! I’m better than the sham you offered, the tiny piece you were willing to provide of yourself! Whatever it is you’re running from, I hope you never get there. Whatever you’re drowning your emotions in, I hope it chokes you.’
There was a whole jewellery box there for the taking, a purse full of credit cards and a story that if sold could see her through to her pension, but Lily packed the bare minimum.
The very bare minimum.
Pulling off her rings, she laid them neatly on the bedside table, watched the lack of reaction from the man she loved, and almost in defiance picked up the remote and flicked off the stereo.
Turned off the noise that constantly clouded the issue.
‘Give me that.’ It was the most animated she’d seen him, his hand reaching out for the remote, grabbing at her wrist, but she shook him off, pulling out the batteries on the tiny piece of silver metal and hurling them across the room. ‘Focus on what you’ve lost, Hunter. Stop drowning it out with emails or music or sex or whatever the latest fix is. Focus on what’s walking out the door—and I’m telling you now that it’s the best bloody thing that ever happened to you! I loved you, I know you don’t want to hear it, I know you’ll despise me for it—but I happened to love you.’