Pearls

Pearls by Michael Cano

The stinging sound of a slap. A shriek. Beads skittering across tile floors. A door too old on its hinges screeching open. It slams.

She clutches her cheek, already turning pink and twinging, tears sliding down her face as she flees. Heart breaking, she goes out into the cold, wishing he would follow, but knowing he won't.

He goes to the window in disbelief, watches her leave. He never thought she would do it. Through all the fights, all the cold silence between them, she had never left. He hadn't meant to hit her. Hadn't meant to take her pearls in hand, breaking the thin chain as she turned to leave.

The pearls lay scattered on the floor as a reminder of what had been. They had been a present from him on her birthday, before all the fighting began. Everything had been happy before. They had gone to parks for picnics, had nice dinners, stayed in to watch movies, but that had been traded in favor of horrid fights and shouting matches. And all because of a stupid comment. A teasing thought from one of his friends had caused him to become ashamed of her. They stopped going out, he stopped holding her hand, he stopped saying "I love you". And he knew it hurt her. He saw the tears. He knew her heart broke every time she reached out to hold his hand and he didn't take it.

But his standing with his friends had been more important. She confronted him, but he denied that anything had changed. She pursued the subject night after night, and the shouting began one night after he came home late. He became increasingly angry each time she mentioned the change, and her heart became even more broken each time she said "I love you" and he didn't say it back.

He had simply snapped this time. He did still love her. He loved her just as much as he had back when they had gone out and he still acknowledged his love. Her broken heart caused him pain, but he grew accustomed to saying nothing, to not speaking about feelings. And she asked one more time. Asked what had changed. What she had done wrong. And he lost it. He knew she had done nothing wrong, knew deep down that none of his feelings had changed, but he couldn't say it. And in his bottled up frustration, his inability to express himself any longer, his hand reached up and slapped her cheek. He watched himself hit her, but couldn't do anything to stop it.

He'd ruined it. She was the best thing in his life, the only thing that brought him true happiness, but can only appreciate it now that she is gone. He watches her run into the night, and wants to go after her, but knows he won't.