His point of view

The marriage was over. It was a beginning.

They stood in the stark naked room, looking at each other, for eternity. Neither of them was crying. She looked at him, with calm, pale eyes. Her mind was at peace. She knew he had sensed it.

He looked at her, eyes questioning her, searching for love, in her eyes. They explored her face, her hands, and her body, for even the faintest of signs, of love, of longing. He knew, she knew, that he had sensed it.

Several minutes passed, neither uttered a word. They didn’t need to.

He wanted to keep looking at her. In her eyes, he wanted to look for his face, in her hands, his name in the fate lines, himself, in her warmth.

He wanted to feel her fingers on his face, tracing his eyelids, his skin, his lips… he wanted to feel her lips, close to his… her warmth against his body, he wanted his fingers to trace her body, her spine… he wanted her to close her eyes with pleasure… he wanted to kiss her.

They were still standing there, looking at each other. Asking for explanations, for answers, for reasons.

No I should not go. Who will take care of you?

This sentence always brought tears to his eyes. This time also. Standing just steps away from her, he cried like a baby, he fell on his knees, which resulted in a another bout of stark pain in his already injured leg, and cried.

She didn’t come to him, to soothe him, to love him, to make him smile, to kiss him. She stood there and a stray tear rolled down her cheek.
He managed to stand, tears in his eyes, he felt lonely. Totally alone. He had to leave her and go. He had taken a decision. He had to stand by it.

She never stopped him from going. She never said a word apart from, ‘Who will take care of you?’

He stood at the door and fought with the desire to turn back and look at her. He heard the silence for a few seconds.

Just when he was closing the door behind him, he heard, almost like a whisper, ‘Don’t go. I love you.’

After 10 years of marriage, it was all over.

The marriage was over. It was a beginning.