Selfish [zm]

One.

IM BACK! i've been contemplating for awhile whether or not i'd ever republish my stories, and if not during quarantine, i don't know when i would. i'll be editing & reworking all of my stories but for now, i'm gonna republish as they were. 😌

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11:57.  I looked at the numbers haunting me from the clock on the wall, returning my gaze to the cold, full plate of food that I couldn't bring myself to lift from the table, despite knowing the meal I cooked would once again go uneaten.

The ticking of the clock reminded me more of my disappointment. He said he would be home by nine o'clock. Our night would be perfect. I would be perfect.

I stood in our bathroom mirror making sure my appearance would satisfy him. I wore my hair naturally, my black curls coiled and shiny with product and my edges smoothly laid. My makeup was free of any flaws. I put on my favorite outfit - a sleek, yet comfortable, black romper, paired with golden gladiator sandals that I had recently bought.

I worked for hours making dinner for the two of us. I searched for recipes to mimic foods I knew to be his favorites: chicken curry, biryani, and nihari. I made my mother's famous Southern-style beignets - the best in all of Louisiana - something I remembered him loving when we first met.

It was perfect.

He said he would be home by nine o'clock. He lied.

For the first fifteen minutes, I wasn't worried. I continued my pacing around the house: wiping up the kitchen from the mess I'd made while cooking, checking the mirror to make sure my makeup hadn't smudged.

When the clock hit ten, I fixed my plate and began to eat.

I called him at ten-thirty. He didn't answer.

I called six more times. He still didn't answer.

My heart raced with anxiety, wondering why he was over three hours late. It wasn't unusual for him to be late by an hour or so, but three? Something had to be wrong.

My mind began to race as thoughts of him leaving me rushed through my mind. I shook my head, shaking away the idea. He wouldn't do that. He couldn't do that. My hands trembled at the thought. I wouldn't know to exist without him. There would nowhere else for me to go. I couldn't even begin to remember life without him.

That's why I worked so hard to keep him. I dealt with his insults, because when he tells me that I'm gaining weight, it's because he wants me to be healthy. I dealt with his control issues, because when he told me to delete numbers from my phone and to quit my job, it was because he wanted to better my life. I dealt with the accusations of cheating, because it meant he valued my faithfulness. I dealt with his infidelities, because it meant that he was still coming home to me. I dealt with him, because I couldn't fathom continuing my life without him.

I stood from my seat at the table, the quiet sound of Dru Hill playing in the background, grabbing the plates from the table. I placed my empty one in the sink, while wrapping his in plastic wrap for later. I emptied to leftover food from the pots and pans into containers, before making a mental note to call my friends tomorrow for lunch, because the food was too good to go to waste.

I blew out the candles I had lit, and quietly hummed along to the chorus, wiping down the white marble countertops once again for good measure. However, once I was no longer able to pacify myself, I sat down at the table and began to untie my sandals.

Just as I slid off my left shoe, the echo of the front door slamming shut rang through the house. 12:43. I stood to my feet, walking softly to meet my fiance at the door.