Short Story on Love – The Unfaithful
Photo Credit: www.cepolina.com
(The story I present here is my interpretation of the song ‘Unfaithful’ by Rihanna)
She was putting on her lipstick, a bright red one on her luscious full lips, sitting in front of the mirror. She was proud of her lovely looks; she was above attractive, if not extraordinary. Even at 37, she radiated a glow of youth. Her face was full and heart-shaped, perfectly arched eyebrow with widely set, midnight black eyes which were eternally moist. She had this adorable habit of teasing her lower lip with her teeth; she knew the devastating effect this had on men. And her best feartures were her jawline, sharp and perfectly angled. Her body was that of a heavenly nymph, at least if we believe her husband.
She was getting ready to meet her man, the man who made her feel alive; not the man who was her husband. This is her life, her story. She strived throughout her life to reach, to achieve, what was right. While she continued to feverishly pursue what she conceived to be ‘right’, it always eluded her. She did not have a ‘right’ set of parents, nor did she have ‘right’ and worthy siblings, never a ‘right’ and proper teacher… She thought she will at least marry right. Oh! He did seem right. He did everything in a most proper, most right way. Even his love-making used to be so right that it seemed methodical to her…
Wait! She reflected back at her reflection. She married him because he was, he is right. But after eight years of ‘right’ness and extremely boring life, she realized that it was actually ‘wrong’ which attracted her and to escape this ‘wrong’, she gravitated towards what she thought as ‘right’. She smiled sarcastically at her confusion between wrong and right.
He loves her, so her husband. His world starts and ends with her- the total Romeo Juliet Clinched love. He considers that colors of this nature are because of her, the days are bright and nights are dark because of her, the sun rises and sets because of her… And she is aware of this demand-less and unconditional love of his.
But she just couldn’t be true to him, to his love. This love suffocated her; however grateful she was for his company, for his presence in her life, for his love, all and much more, he still stifled her. And she felt her eyes getting much more moist than usual. She wiped her eyes at the core; she couldn’t let her tears escape the boundaries of her eyes, can she? It will smudge the kohl and mascara.
She stood up and selected an Oscar de la Ranta for the evening- A short red dress with scooped neckline which will enhance her figure and give her an edge. She knew that she would look irresistible. She looked at her semi-naked body in the full length mirror and knew that her firm body had so much more to offer than any lithe teen goddess who could never match up to her. She smiled. And then she was sad.
She knew that he knew about her misadventure and she knew that her unfaithfulness is tearing him apart, eating him alive, her actions were hammering the desolation, the death in his heart. He knew that even with his devotion, with his love, he can never, never make her happy as she could never be happy with him- She chose to be happy with her man, the ‘outsider’, that third member of their marriage. It was an open secret, and they both knew that.
She felt a prick of tear again and a pain in her heart. She never wanted to hurt anyone. She was not venomous. She wanted to free him, free him of their sham of a marriage and his love. But she was too dependent on him- not for her happiness, but for a balance, for stability. She knew that every time she stepped out of her home, he had this uncertain look on his eyes- was this the last time she was going out? Will she ever come back again to him?
She wore the dress and she decided to pull her hair up for this evening- a new hairdo; her lover loved to free her hair and play with it- an enticing hair fetish, he called it. She let a strand of hair lie just like that, kissing her left cheek. She picked up her handbag and slipped her delicate feet in Jimmy Choo. She headed toward the main door but paused to consider something and turned and smiled at her husband.
She walked towards him, leaned and gave him a kiss which displayed her gratitude and her guilt. She brushed his cheek with her thumb and looked in his eyes and with genuineness still residing inside her she promised to come back home soon, she had to go out you see, she promised her girlfriends an evening of fun and frolics quite a long time ago and now she cannot back out, it won’t look good on her social credibility criteria. He smiled and nodded at her saw her turn away, it seemed that his eyes remained on the door for a long times as he saw his life going away.
He knew that there was no girlfriend. He knew that she did not want to hurt him, but she had no self restrain. He could never be angry at her. He was not sad, as long as she was happy. He just couldn’t bear to see her in dullness and nor could he tear their bond away. He was as dependent on her as she was on him.
He turned and administered his chair in the direction of balcony and wheeled himself toward the outer railing just in time to see his wife getting in car with that ‘outsider’…
__END__
