𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐢𝐞

𝟏𝟎

["Before you go."]

❦

I had to get out of that room as soon as possible.

Despite my mind racing at a mile a minute, I couldn't find anything to bring me solace.

I didn't even feel my legs carrying me through the rooms, up the stairs to my bedroom. The door slammed shut behind me and cold sweat poured down my face.

Sweat, like blades opened my skin until they sank to the bottom of my flesh. My eyes betrayed me by closing. The eyelids felt as heavy as stones.

With a shaky step, I reached the armchair across from my bed, collapsing on it like a dying man.

My reaction has never been like this. My body has never shaken this much since that night, but even now I don't know if it's the same.

Twenty-six.

Today she would have turned twenty-six.

Today, every past five years, I would stand over her grave, wishing her a happy birthday, talking to her about our moments together, about how happy we were, about how sorry I am, and how I would rather be in her place.

But now I'm sitting in my room, twenty minutes until midnight. Twenty minutes 'till the end of her day.

I don't remember myself anymore. I don't even remember the man I used to be. But she destroyed him, my dear wife, she destroyed me to the core that now I can't mend.

I let some tears down my cheeks and they burn even more. It was like fire falling down my open wounds.

With a shaky hand, I grabbed one of the bottles from the table opening it without hesitation. A familiar scene poured down my throat. The searing heat felt too familiar, too calm. The alcohol worked its way into my veins, numbing the pain that had become my constant companion.

My chest tightened, aching with the void her absence had left behind.

Drink, I told myself. Drink so you can ease the pain. But I didn't feel any relief. The burden seemed stronger and heavier on my shoulders, pressing me with its weight.

Look what you've become!

Money has become more important to you than your lost wife to whom you devoted your life.

Now you are just a shell of what you once were.

You have become your father.

With the last strength I had, I threw the glass bottle on the floor making it shatter beneath my feet. Some pieces even bounced off and grazed my leg with their pointed ends.

Deal with that bastard, she is dead! Your child is dead with its mother! So let them be.

I never admitted it to myself, but reality hit me faster than anything and I sink into it.

I ran my fingers over the rim of the glass, memories of happier times flooding my mind.

I recall her laughter, a sound that seemed to breathe life into the lifeless. Her smile, a radiant reflection of affection, was a gift meant only for me.
Her eyes, more precious than gold, held depths of emotion beyond words. The way she looked at me spoke volumes, conveying a connection that transcended mere words.

The memory of her touch lingers as a gentle caress that stirred profound emotions within me.

The way she spoke of our future. Of how we will live together. Of how many children we will have. How we will be separated far from all the things that are behind us. She spoke as if she knew this would happen. It's as if our plans are already sealed and ready.

No one had any idea how cruel life would be.

A few empty bottles and I know I'm done. The clock rang midnight and I thought I would feel something. Everything reminds me the same, my chest still constricted with my every breath.

Cold air passed through my room making me shiver under its sharpness. The door opened, I noticed, and a black silhouette stood beside it.

"Get the fuck out! Don't you see that I'm in depression?" I laughed at my very condition and how pathetic I sound.

The silhouette remained in place, standing still.

"At least be of some use and bring me some more whiskey." My voice was betraying me, making the words only a whisper. "Please, just go," I begged this time. My head drooped and with every sob I let it sink even more.

I don't recognize myself anymore.

"Aaron?" Is all that prompted me to start and jump to my limp legs.

I've had nightmares before and she haunted me in every one, but I was hoping that she would at least leave me alone tonight.

I'm seeing ghosts again.

But she was standing there by the door. My Maria. So beautiful just as I remember her.

"Aaron, what are you doing?" She rushed to me, pushing me away from the broken glass under my feet.

As real as her touch felt, more than I had ever felt in all my dreams, my eyes stayed on her.

"You're going to get hurt, can't you see?" This time her hands moved up to my face, cupping my cheeks. Her honey-brown eyes locked on me, searching for an answer.

Brown, brown, they are so brown, and like honey, all mixed and as she looked at me with her hands on me and her hair over her shoulders, I knew it was her.

It's her and this is not a dream.

"You are alive." I barely whispered, not believing my own words. "Marinka, you are here!"

With one swift move, I took her in my arms. Her legs wrapped around my torso, and a familiar feeling blossomed in me.

When I tasted her lips I knew.

With our bodies still wrapped around each other, I lowered us onto my bed.

Her hair scattered on my sheets and I inhaled her scent, running my lips over every part of her face until I was sure I remembered everything about her.

I kiss her, I touch her, I caress her, and feel both of our heat as our clothes are no longer a barrier that keeps us apart, and our naked bodies are finally together.

Our hearts beat in the same place, in the same rhythm as we move slowly.

The room was hazy with our heavy breaths and moans. My words didn't last long as my hands always found new places to touch her, new curves to worship, and more kisses to steal.

"I love you." I breathed between slow thrusts. "YA lyublyu tebya, Mariya."

As the night grew darker and deeper we didn't stop. I made love to her until her legs were shaking and her voice only knew my name.

In the end, I only cared for her. And she was right here in my arms and I will never let her go again.

❦