A short chapter to start with. Not a very happy topic, but have faith.
Ruth woke up with a start and she groaned. Rolling over she looked at the alarm clock. 5:21 a.m. She'd never get more sleep now. She'd had trouble drifting off in the first place, in her big, empty, lonely bed. A bed without her husband in it. Well, that, and the fact that the tears just wouldn't stop flowing. Swinging her legs out of bed, she rubbed her face trying to get some energy to face the day. It was a struggle just to go on at the moment. Everything she'd ever known seemed to have irrevocably changed within minutes. Ruth could feel the prick of tears beginning again. "No," she told herself. "It's not worth it."
But even so, she couldn't help feeling like she'd swallowed live snakes. Her stomach was churning and all she wanted to do was cry, turn over in bed and sleep the entire day away. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Or no, that wasn't entirely fair, she thought, her anger giving way to rationality for a moment. But only a moment before she returned to a livid fury going through her bloodstream.
She got up and opened the wardrobe. Their clothes hung side by side, as if her world hadn't been torn apart. She let her hand trail over his shirts and his silk ties, still hanging there. Still smelling faintly of him. Harry had left in a hurry last night, without even waiting for her to kick him out. It was probably wise on his part, not to be near her until she'd calmed down. Calmed down, she thought, almost snorting to herself with derision. What a ridiculous thought! Ruth had wanted to kill him. She still did. To hurt him the way he'd hurt her, so it was almost a relief that Harry wasn't here. Although that relief was going to be short lived when she got onto the grid. God, how was she going to face everyone?
It was bad enough that Harry had cheated on her. It was even worse that every single person she worked with knew it. She didn't want to see pity or worse on their faces. Today was going to be terrible.
Ruth needed to distract herself from the all too vivid images of Harry and that blonde bitch in bed together. She went into the bathroom and then stopped at the doorway. Sitting on the sink were Harry's shaving cream and razor, the aftershave on the bathroom shelf. The entire room had a scent of Harry. Subtle, but it was definitely there. She breathed in deeply, letting the remnants of his presence fill her. This time she couldn't stop the tears from falling. She let them, crying in the silence, wondering if Harry was thinking about her. Did she hope he was? Or hope he wasn't?
Ruth looked at her left hand. Her rings, symbols that said to the world that she was committed to a man for the rest of her life. To Harry. That she was in love. That she trusted Harry with her heart and her life. And that trust had been completely destroyed. She twisted the rings around her finger and, very slowly, pulled them off. They parted from her skin with a reluctance which surprised her. Like they'd almost moulded to her skin, which was ridiculous. They were two circles of metal, they couldn't bond to her skin.
She went back into the bedroom and put the rings carefully in her jewelry box. Whatever had happened, she couldn't throw them away or discard them casually. Even if she never spoke to Harry again, she couldn't part with them completely. They were a sign that once upon a time, she'd been deeply in love. Could she ever forgive him for this?
Attempting to think of something else, (and failing miserably) she got into the shower and used the lime body wash that Harry hated and washed her hair, hoping that it would help wipe her mind. It didn't.
By the time she'd forced herself to eat some breakfast it was only half past six. She decided she'd go to work. Hopefully she'd be first on the grid and wouldn't have to walk past everyone else's pitying gazes. Maybe one at a time would be easier. Or maybe she'd become so absorbed in the paperwork on global terrorism she wouldn't care as much. Maybe anything in the world was better than sitting in this house, brooding and crying.
Don't hate Harry, and again have faith! Please leave a review, and more soon.
