Giving Chances
"Fate, Chance, God's Will - we all try to account for our lives somehow.
What are the chances that two raindrops, flung from the heavens, will merge on a windowpane?
Gotta be Fate. " -Robert Brault
The dinner table was left untouched that night, like the many nights before. The table's owners were sleeping up stairs, each spouse in a different bed and room. The lady of the house had not cooked in so long that the pots and pans felt replaced by the convince of frozen food, for there was no point in preparing a meal if it was just for oneself.
The man of the house came home late each night, tie loose and smelling of various scents of woman's perfume. The lady did not care, for from the beginning, neither had expected much from each other. He left before she woke and returned well past midnight after she had fallen asleep, unbeknown to him, on a tear-drenched pillow. The couple had not confronted each other for the last 3 months and both assumed that their daily routine would not change.
That night, at an ungodly hour, she had woken up, mouth dry and begging for water. Fifteen minutes later, the lady was seated at the dusty dinner table, a cup half-full of water beside her with one hand cradling her tilting head. She was lost in thought, daydreaming, about the "what if" in her life if she had married for love instead of a life-bounding contact for power.
A clean house-. No. A messy house with toddler toys scattered randomly in several room. A cute little girl dressed in a pretty pink dress with a charming smile and a fearless, curious baby boy with dimples roaming the baby proofed household. She smiled at the lovely thought. She could only dream and stay hopeful for that day to come.
The sound of glass shattering awake her from her daydream and back to reality. The remains of a fancy glass cup lay dispersed in different directions on the kitchen floor. Besides it, a pair of black pants and shoes stood frozen. Her gazed moved up, and she took in the disheveled hair, wrinkled dress shirt, and distinguished bags underneath familiar dark eyes that indicated many late nights of hard work and other...types of work.
Her absent, legal husband was standing in front of her eyes.
Realizing she was carefully scrutinizing him, he leaned down to pick up the pieces of glass hoping to avoid her criticizing gaze.
"I'll do it," she announced, causing him to look up at her as she quickly moved out of her chair.
"No. It's fi-," he tried to retort.
"You'll cut yourself."
He sighed as she returned with a broom and clean up the left over residue of his carelessness.
Silence hung over them as the sharp pieces of glass slowly vanished from view.
"Thanks."
She gave a small nod, accepting his gratitude.
Following their little encounter, the lady of the house headed back up to her room as the man of the house stayed paralyzed downstairs, relishing the beautiful, dreamy expression on his wife's face. It reminded him of who she used to be, who they used to be, and their happier times in life as well. Her face was so captivating that he had momentarily forgotten who he was and dropped his glass of water.
She didn't deserve this. Neither did he. She was too young. They both were. They met in college and were good friends, but with their family background, both were forced into this agreement right after graduating from college. She had tried to make this pleasant at first, but his selfish actions caused her to abandon her intentions. She knew he was unfaithful, but what could she do? Either way, he felt guilty for not giving her a way out.
The following week was uneventful. Neither of them saw the other again, although their presence lingered in each other's minds.
After going out for a small walk, the lady of the house came home to a bright pair of pink heels left at the front door. She slowly stepped up the stairs, scared of what she hoped was not true and then heard a light female voice giggling coming from the master bedroom. The usually vacant bedroom, that they had both mentally agreed was too big for either of them to sleep in without feeling like they were missing something, was occupied.
She opened the door with a shaking hand and her lavender eyes widened as the inside of the bedroom came into view. The women she recognized as his secretary straddling his lap; her tongue on his neck. When she turned around and saw the wife, she gasped and scampered out of the room.
"Hinata...," he started to say as he stood up, fully clothed except for his top two shirt buttons.
She couldn't look him in the eye. She believed he respected her enough to not bring those ladies home. Apparently, her assumptions of him was wrong.
"Just don't Sasuke," she pleaded and shook her head, telling him not to say any more and retreated to her bedroom. That night, the lady of the house cried her eyes out over the proof that their marriage never should have occurred.
Sasuke stayed home the next day, so he could apologize to her and somehow, someway try to change their relationship for the better. He was in the wrong the entire time, and he realized that. He honestly didn't know what happened. The women had asked to see his home, and he had blindly said yes. He tightly clenched the edge of the table as the memory of Hinata's shock and betrayed face came back to him. It was all his fault. Everything was.
A cup of coffee stood in front of him as he watched her slowly descend the stairs. Her eyes were red and her hair frizzled, yet she still looked beautiful in plain tee-shirt and pair of shorts.
He was utterly shocked and baffled when she walked up to him and softly cradled his face with the palm of her right hand. Her hands were soft, and her eyes were stunning bright as they gazed at each other. She kissed him. Innocently at first, but then with more fervor as their mouths pressed together desperately.
It would have looked passionate to a bystander, but it lacked the essential emotions of what a simple kiss would have contained. There were no sparks like those that would come from two people in love, just forced lips against each other in a pointless war, hopelessly wishing that there had to be something, some kind of hope that their loveless marriage could continue and one day they would end up truly content and happy, but it was all in vein.
He broke away when he felt something wet and cool slide down his cheek. Her hands fell from his face.
"It never would have worked out," she sorrowfully whispered under her breath.
"I know. I'm sorry Hinata," he replied, his voice low and deep as he lightly wiped her tears away.
An hour later, she appeared as the calm and dignified women people knew her to be with a suitcase in hand. He had not moved from where he was.
"The divorce papers are on my bed," she announced and slightly paused, unsure of what to say next, "It was...nice meeting you Sasuke."
Sparing him a longing glance of a lost friendship, she walked out of the door and out of his life. Her actions giving them both an escape from the the horrendous predicament they had forced themselves to live through these last few years.
Six years later, the former lady and man of the house would be in their thirties, successful in their own ways. She became a loveable and reliable elementary school teacher, but an unable to commit girlfriend. He turned into a life-saving doctor, engaged to a women he never loved due to the bitter rules of society. He had decided to cancel the engagement a week later.
One unfortunate day accompanying the chilling winds of fall, a student of Hinata's had experience a seizure, and she had quickly rushed him to the hospital. The student passed away the same day, and she had cried with the family like he was her own.
After the family left to go grieve and solemnly plan the funeral at home, she had silently sat in a corner of the hospital cafeteria with her head in her arms and cried. The doctor who was unable to successfully treat the boy was on break, and seeing the weeping woman; he tried to consolidate her.
He had smoothly patted her shaking shoulder and and whispered his apologies. He stayed with her until her tears had ceased, and she lifted her head to thank him for his kind words. When their eyes met, recognition flashed and memories from their entwined past resurfaced.
"Sasuke..."
Fate had given them a chance to redeem themselves.
First of all, if anyone is wondering how Hinata and Sasuke arrived to their current situation, here is the succinct version. They were basically pushed into marriage immediately after finishing their education because of family/business issues. They were friends in college, but that was about the extent of their relationship. Second, their ages to begin with are 23/24. And six years later (do the math!), they end up around 29/30.
I hope everyone who read this enjoyed. Any comments/criticism are greatly appreciated. Anything baffling, hopefully I can clear up. Any mistakes, please tell me so I can fix! Thank you and please kindly review and toss in your two cents :)
- xilynnx