Relationship stories are more or less the same pattern, starts with bang and fades over time. The key is ‘time’ that differs from person to person. Then there is personality, society, logistics, convenience – just a few of many dependencies play.
Rena stood by the window, her fingers grazing the glass as if it could soothe the cold dread that nestled in her chest. The city lay below her like a vast, indifferent expanse, the lights twinkling as they stretched toward the horizon. It was a familiar view, one she had seen countless times from her apartment on the seventeenth floor. But tonight, the city felt foreign, distant—a place she no longer belonged to.
Her thoughts drifted back to Jain. He had been a good husband, attentive in his own quiet way, always reliable. Their life together had been safe, predictable, like the steady ticking of a clock. But that was precisely what had driven her away. She needed more. She needed variety, excitement, something to remind her that she was alive. And Jain, with his calm demeanor and unshakeable routines, had become little more than a ghost of her former desires.
“How did it come to this?” she whispered to herself, her breath fogging the glass. She had asked that question many times, but the answer always eluded her, slipping away like sand through her fingers. Was it attention seeking nature, combined with lust aided by having no sexual morale sense or random bad judgment?
It started with Martin as post marriage engagement. A chance encounter at a bar, his eyes catching hers across the room. There had been no promises, no expectations, just a night of reckless abandon that had left her breathless and wanting more. But Martin was a fleeting thrill, a spark that ignited quickly and faded just as fast.
Robert had been different. He was someone she could see, fun to be with—at least, that’s what she had told herself. He was charming, ambitious, and seemed to understand her in a way Jain never did. They had met for coffee one morning, then lunch the next, and soon their meetings stretched late into the night. She imagined herself starting anew with him, away from the suffocating routine of her marriage. But Robert had grown tired of her, just as she had grown tired of Jain.
They both got busy with work and life. Robert was a strange one. He was shielding when she started to sleep with him and never moved that shield of feeling for her, even a bit. This was a new and rare experience for her. He was smart, exciting, and often romantic but had an invisible wall that could never allow her inside him. Now, she realized that years of continuation with Robert were only possible because of how he kept distance with that hairline. But at times, it became difficult to see him when she really needed to.
Over a couple of years, though, the way he looked at her, not with the passion of before, but with weariness, with disappointment. He knew about her struggles with her husband, the whispers about her wild streak, her inability to settle. And now, he saw her as nothing more than a cautionary tale, a woman who would do the same again until being dumped. He reached that point. She had a feeling that he had likely ended with her in their last conversation.
And then, there was Paul. Paul, who was different from the others, who looked at her as if she were the only woman in the world. On their business trip, they had talked night after night, the conversations deepening over glasses of wine. He was earnest, kind, and a bit naïve—a man who didn’t see her flaws or perhaps chose to ignore them. She had seen in him the opportunity for something real, something lasting, or so she had convinced herself. The divorce had been inevitable after that.
Most divorces need a catalyst, a support system that accommodate mentally and physically. Paul was that. She was still seeing Robert when she started with Paul. The only single thing Robert ever asked her- to share if Rena sees other people. She conveniently decided not to share, so she could avoid the carryover of her embrassment of the past.
But now, standing by the window, she felt the weight of her choices pressing down on her. She secretly dated Paul for less than a year, but things were moving fastest during that time, as if the whole world was going crazy one after another. Separation with husband, custody fight for her son, managing social dilemma, new role in the company – all were bustling simultaneously. Having Paul discretely helped to fight all these. And that moment, dream to get married again with Paul seemed like a perfect setup despite all. But it didn’t take long to realize it may have been a mistake. Cause, it hadn’t taken long for him to see through the veneer, to realize that she was not the woman he had imagined. His disillusionment had grown with each passing day, the affection in his eyes slowly replaced by something harder, colder.
The bedroom door creaked open, and Paul stepped in, his expression unreadable. He had grown distant lately, his love replaced by a tolerance she found suffocating.
“Paul,” she began, her voice faltering. She wanted to say so much—to apologize, to beg him not to leave her—but the words stuck in her throat.
He looked at her, and for a moment, she saw the man she had once believed she could be with, touch of a fantasy of love. But that moment passed, replaced by the reality they both had to face.
“I’m leaving, Rena,” he said quietly, his voice devoid of the warmth it once held. “This isn’t working.”
She swallowed hard, nodding. She had known this was coming, but hearing it still sent a shiver down her spine.
“I thought we could make this work” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
Paul sighed, rubbing his temples. “I thought so too, but…”
The silence between them stretched, heavy and oppressive. There was nothing left to say, no more illusions to cling to. She watched as Paul turned and left the room, the sound of his footsteps fading into the distance.
His words echoed Robert’s, the cold truth she had tried so hard to avoid. No matter where she went, no matter who she was with, it was never enough. She was never enough.
Paul left that night, and Rena found herself alone once again, staring out at the city that now felt more like a reflection of her own fragmented soul than a place she belonged.
She had thought that leaving Jain would bring her happiness, that finding someone new would fill the void inside her. But now, standing by the window, she realized that the emptiness had only grown, fed by the very choices she had made.
Her phone buzzed on the table, a message from a number she didn’t recognize—another man, another escape. She stared at the screen for a long time, the words blurring as tears filled her eyes.
With a trembling hand, she deleted the message and turned off the phone. The game was over, and she was tired of playing.
And as she stood there, alone with her thoughts, she knew that no one else could save her from it. No one else could fill the emptiness she had carried with her for so long.
This was her life, her choices, and the consequences were hers alone to bear.
After all, the body remembers, maybe to make sure the soul never forgets. The beauty can not change the beast.
….. to be continued
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