It was raining again. A small, sad sort of smile forced its way into his lips. He couldn’t help but think of her, though he knew that pining for her would all be in vain. He frowned and approached the window and watched as the droplets trickled down slowly. The dark glass reflected his face and his frown deepened. It was amazing what a year of hard labor had done to him. His face was wan, and his dark eyes were as empty as the street below. He looked at his reflection on the window, and for a minute, he imagined that he saw her there beside him as well.
He ran a hand across his eyes but there were no tears to wipe away. He simply wanted to banish her from his thoughts. A vain wish.
He could have born anything if he knew that in the end, she would be his. The hard year of labor, of suffering, of self-control was all for nothing. He was trying to raise himself in the world for her sake, but with a single letter, she destroyed everything he had hoped for.
He hated her. He hated her weakness. Why could you not wait for me? He whispered the question to the empty room and the flickering candle was his only response. He hated the memories of her. He hated the words that had given him so much hope for the future. I do love you, I do. Had she not uttered those words herself? He remembered it so vividly because it was the beginning of his life. Those words brought fresh air into his lungs and propelled him to try to find a higher place in the world.
Vain words they were, of course. She had not waited for him. While he worked and studied night and day for her sake, she had been romancing with a man who was much richer than he ever hoped to be. Eleven months after he left her, with a promise to return and claim her hand, he received the news: she had married another.
If he could have seen her while he was reading the letter! He would have shaken her. What happened to the girl he fell in love with? The one with so much passion in her soul, the one who believed that true happiness can only be achieved by love, and love alone. He would have torn the letter, but as a proof of his own weakness, he had kept it, because it was the last he will ever receive from her.
She said it was a practical marriage. She said it would make her parents so happy. Will it make you happy? He wondered. No. He knew her well enough to imagine what a loveless marriage would do to her spirit. She will not be happy. He thought he would find comfort in that thought, but it only made his heart ache for her.
I will forget you. He snuffed the candle out and prayed to God that there will be no more dreams of her. She was a cavity in his soul, and every remembrance of her seemed to widen the emptiness within him. He shivered as he thought of her. It was raining and she was far from him, and now, forever unreachable. It was raining, and the ice cold droplets seemed to trickle down into his soul.
***
The fire was roaring as she climbed into bed. She looked up at the dancing shadows of the flames and listened to the sound of the pouring rain. Her husband was snoring soundly beside her. Did I choose wrong? She stood up and walked to the window and gazed at her reflection. For a moment, she imagined that his own image was beside her. She shivered at the thought of him. She was in a great house, with warm blankets, and money to pay for fires to keep her warm all night. Shallow, worthless things, she thought. They kept her shielded from the rain outside, yet there was a torrential downpour within that drenched her very soul.
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