1-Turning the Tables
It has been years since Roderich and Elizabeta had their wedding. It was a great day at the Edelstein manor. As usual, Elizabeta was cleaning the backyard, until Roderich called for her.
"I wonder what we will be talking about today," Eliza whispered in a humming tune.
Upon opening the door, the brunette noticed her husband sitting in his large chair facing the window with the back of the chair facing her, avoiding her from seeing his face.
As she closed the door, silence filled the room for a moment until a deep, but soothing voice started to grow louder saying something.
"Elizabeta," he said.
"Y-You needed something, Roderich?" Sensing his deep voice, she immediately took the serious atmosphere.
"Seeing that the contract is over, you know what that means, right?" Roderich boldly stated.
Eliza's beautiful smiling face transformed into an almost teary one thanks to the statement.
"I s-see... Well if you'll e-exc-cuse me, I-I'll continue my cleaning-"
"You don't have to, take a rest, and for the next two days you will be moving into a new house, just by yourself. I had already bought it for you. Pack up. And be sure to leave nothing here. You won't be able to come back here again," he explained.
The last sentence pierced right through the lady. To not see the one she loved the most again, who can endure such a horrid thing.
"S-Sure." It was the only thing she managed to answer among all the outbursting questions trying to shout out of her mind.
The phone outside suddenly ringed, and Elizabeta found this as a reason to get out of the room and to shortly escape reality's arms.
"Oh! I-I'll go get it!" Eliza said faking her smile.
Roderich remained silent in his position.
And there she hurriedly got out of the room carrying the pain and suppressed tears starting to flow out of her green orbs.
She closed the door leaning her back against it. There she stood for a moment, reminisced all of her memories with her husband-now signing a divorce paper and throwing her out of his life.
"Why, Roderich...?" Tears one by one started to wet the red carpet on the floor.
Elizabeta was at loss. She never believed that it was her husband, he never will be; he just died-in her belief perhaps. All that she was doing was to mourn for her lover.