Startled by the door shot, Theresa stood up and left the study room to see what was going on. Arnold hadn't been at home for some time now and she wasn't expecting him but she shouted his name anyway. There was no answer. She picked up the vase on the table just in case. She hadn't have anyone come and go during the last two months. She slowly tiptoed to the door and lifted the vase. Just as she was about to hit the man in the head, she realized it was him.
Relaxed yet annoyed, she looked at him, eyes widened and asked, "Why didn't you answer when i called out?"
He chuckled, it had been so long since i heard him chuckle, she thought. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear you."
They both stood in the hallway awkwardly. They'd been apart for more than five months and they didn't know what to do; what to say to each other. It broke her heart, it broke her heart terribly.
"How have you been doing?" he asked as his smile faded away.
"Fine." She stopped. "You?" She smiled in a childish way that made Arnold smile again.
"Good." He walked in and started checking out the living room as if it was his first time there. Theresa followed him and stood by the door. He was acting as if they were strangers. Maybe they were strangers now, who knew.
"He's loosing his control Theresa. The hosts are the only ones that he talks to. He barely speaks to me, barely speaks to anyone. He's loosing the reality of the reality. I'm really worried about him. Please do something." She remembered Robert's words when they talked a week ago. But how am i supposed to help him when he doesn't even talk to me, she thought. Even Robert was worried. This was serious.
"How's Robert doing?" she asked. She could not believe how hard it had become, having a conversation with her husband.
It was apparent that he did not like hearing this, hearing about Robert. He took off his glasses and walked to the counter to take a glass of wine. "He's fine. Do you want some?"
"Yes, thank you." She walked at him and took the glass he extended it to her. She waited for their eyes to meet as she brushed his fingers with hers. When he finally looked in her eyes, she took the glass. Theresa put it in the counter, both of them knew she was about to break but holding herself back.
"Don't." He said and finished his wine at once and took the bottle for a refill.
"You can't get through this without me. Let me help Arnold." She was literally pleading. This wasn't something Theresa did very often. It wasn't in her character. But at that moment she really did not know what to do. She felt so weak. She felt so small.
"I'm fine Theresa." He took his glass and the bottle. Theresa grabbed him by the arm as he was walking back to the living room.
"Don't you dare walk away from me." Her heart was filled with rage and she had had enough of this. "He's my son too, you know. I'm in pain too. I'm hurt Arnold. I lost my son. And now i'm loosing my husband. You're slipping away from my hands and it hurts that i can't stop it." Arnold turned his head and looked the other way. He's doing this on purpose, she thought. He's doing this so i'll get angry and let him be.
"I love you. And i need you. I need you more than i've ever needed you. Don't do this to me Arnold. Please don't."
He pulled away from her hold softly and kept on drinking as he paced to the couch and sat. "You never needed anyone Theresa. I know what you are doing. I'm a programmer. I make people. I know how to read my wife."
Those words hit Theresa like bullets. Arnold was anything but cruel. At that moment she really felt that she was loosing him.
"You don't make people, you make robots Arnold! Get back to the real world!" she muttered the words with such rage that made her crumble. She could feel the blood rising up to her cheeks. Unlike her, Arnold was calm, hadn't even changed his posture.
"What is real anyway?" he said, as if his soul had left him.
"Fuck this. Fuck you." Theresa exclaimed and left the room. Arnold watched her leave with no expression on his face. He put the glass on the coffee table and started drinking from the bottle.
...
She woke up to the noise of his footsteps. After the loss of Charlie, she had become a light sleeper. With least movements she checked the time. It was 03.00 in the morning. He is probably drunk by now, and then the scent reached her oh he is absolutely drunk, she thought. He finally got into her eye sight. He had loosoned his tie, unbuckled the buttons of his shirt, took of his jacket and had an another bottle in his hand now. He slowly walked to the windows and opened the curtains. The moonlight met his skin. It looked so smooth. She had missed it, she had missed how it felt. His hand rised slowly and wiped away the tear welled up in his eyes. Her heart ached, she hated seeing him like that. He never was a man that cried outloud, spoke about what he was going through. Theresa was no different. However the difference between them was one considered it as weakness so kept all to herself, but the other just did not want to share. Arnold was a man that embraced both his happinesses and sadnesses. He did not accept them all. He just considered them as his. He always said they were the only things he actually owned in this life. And the loss of his son was his too. So why share?
He turned his head to check Theresa. She immediately shut her eyes close so he did not realize that she was awake. He looked at her for a while. He loved her. He loved her so much. And he was mad at her. He was mad at Robert. He was mad at everyone and everything. He knew he wasn't being reasonable but he couldn't help it. The human race brought him sadness. Nothing else. Period. They were graced with the most amazing thing; conscious, yet cursed with the worst thing; death. Death. Funny word, he thought. It took his son. What if it took his wife too? I shouldn't have loved them. I shouldn't have loved my son, i shouldn't have loved Theresa. He looked at the fragile neck of his wife, examined her fragile arms, legs. She was easy to kill. She was weak, she was fragile.
He walked at her side of the bed and sat next to her. He tilted his head to let the moonlight reach her face. Shadows and light were clashing on her features, sharpening them. He realized, this was exactly what was happening inside her. Shadows and light, clashing. My beautiful wife, he thought. Thinks she can keep everything to herself, all her feelings, all her drives yet doesn't know they are all out in the open. At least they were out in the open for him. He could read her like a book ever since the moment they'd met. She preffered having people's respect than their love so she always acted accordingly. My lovely bitch, he called her once. She had laughed her lungs out. She knew it was true. He caressed her messy hair.
"I missed you too, Tess."
