#08 - Pretend
He looked at the dark, empty kitchen. It was late in the night. The instant ramen was quickly getting cold in his hand. The only sound he could hear came from a dripping faucet. The one he promised her he would fix, but never did. Not that it was of any importance, now that she was not there anymore. Thinking of it, perhaps he should have fixed it when she asked. Perhaps it would have made her stay a little longer.
But it wouldn't. And he knew it.
He should have seen when it all started to fall apart. It was very subtle, actually, but he should have seen it. They had had a few years of happiness and bliss, and it somehow made him take her (and their relationship) for granted. At some point, he started putting his personal activities as first priorities. If he happened to have some free time, he would spend it by himself, doing things only he enjoyed. Most of them - all of them - didn't include her. Sometimes, she complained about it, but he often dismissed it. His reasons - excuses - were all the same: I risk my life all the time, so I need my activities as a distraction; or Too bad you don't share my hobbies; if you only liked the things I do, we could spend more time together; or even This is how I am; sorry if it's not enough. One day, she stopped complaining at all. He didn't even notice it. It was a huge surprise when he got back home and found her wardrobe empty. It took some time before realization hit him - he screwed things up big time.
Word quickly spread. Some of his friends, their friends, came by to comfort him. He could see the pity and the accusation in their eyes, as hard as they tried to hide them. It was bad enough that Sakura left him. He didn't need their sympathy or their judgement. He started pretending he was doing well. As time passed by, he still felt alone, but he pretended so much that no one could tell how bad he felt anymore.
A soiled handkerchief laid abandoned on a counter. Its red and white checkered pattern brought him a memory. It was just like the table cloth from one of their favorite restaurants. The one they discovered when their marriage was already deteriorating. He took her there every once in a while and they always had a great time there, but soon it became just a formality. No more free talk, no more laughter; their dinners soon were limited to him talking about his hobbies and she absently nodding without saying a word. Even having the most powerful eyes ever in the Hyuuga clan, he was still unable to see what was going on.
He no longer allowed people inside his - their - house. It became his refuge, his sanctuary, the only place where he could allow himself to feel the pain from their divorce. From his big, huge mess. He never had the heart to take her pictures from the walls. It made him think that she was still there. She wasn't. But he could pretend she was; sometimes, it was almost enough. He pretended she was filling their home with laughter and light and happiness, cooking him some ramen, not really tasty, but full of love. He felt her, needed her beside him as they ate some microwavable meal, making fun at her cooking skills.
He sat on the floor, in silence, as he ate his cold ramen seasoned with salty tears.