Despite Elena's absence, I should have felt relieved, liberated even. After all, she was the source of so much pain and turmoil in my life. But instead, her departure left me feeling hollow, as if a vital piece of myself had been torn away.
As I sat alone in the dimly lit living room, I couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that consumed me. Elena's absence echoed through the halls of my mind, reminding me of the void she had left behind.
Unable to bear the silence any longer, I called for Mercy, she appeared silently, her presence a welcome distraction from my swirling thoughts.
"Pour me a glass of wine, Mercy," I instructed, my voice betraying none of the feelings raging inside me. She nodded silently and complied, pouring the wine with practiced ease.
But as she turned to leave, I stopped her with a command that even shocked me. "Wait," I said, my voice uncharacteristically firm. "Bring me one of Elena's dresses and her picture."
Mercy's eyes widened in surprise, but she said nothing as she hurried to fulfill my request. As I waited, I couldn't help but wonder what had compelled me to ask for such a thing. Was it a desperate attempt to hold onto the memory of Elena, or simply a misguided impulse born out of grief and confusion?
Regardless of the reason, I knew that seeing Elena's dress and photograph would only serve to reopen old wounds, reminding me of all that I had lost. But in that moment, I couldn't bring myself to care. All I wanted was some semblance of the woman who had once meant everything to me, even if she was no longer by my side.
Swirling the wine in my glass, I found myself grappling with conflicting emotions. Antonia's behavior had stirred up a whirlwind of doubts and uncertainties, causing me to question the authenticity of our relationship. Had I ever truly loved her, even in the slightest? The answer was clear: no. Antonia was not like Elena in any way, and I could never envision a future with her as my wife or lover. Sometimes I would seat down and ask myself why the hell I decided to bring her.
With a sigh, I set the glass of wine down and watched as Mercy returned with the requested items – Elena's dress and picture. As she handed them to me, I dismissed her with a wave of my hand, needing a moment alone to process my thoughts.
Once I was alone, I took a deep breath and carefully examined the dress and photograph in my hands. The sight of Elena's familiar face brought a pang of longing to my heart, reminding me of all the memories we had shared together.
With a mixture of trepidation and longing, I lifted the dress to my nose and breathed in deeply, inhaling Elena's sweet fragrance. It was as if she was still with me, her presence lingering in the air around me. For a moment, I allowed myself to bask in the comfort of her memory, feeling a sense of calm wash over me.
In that moment, holding onto Elena's dress and photograph, I knew that no matter what sort of hatred I had for her , she would always be a part of me. And as I traced the outline of her lips on the glass, I silently vowed to honor the memories we shared and that I would find a way to move forward.
As I stared at Elena's picture, a bitter laugh escaped my lips, echoing hollowly in the empty room. "What have you done to me?" I muttered incredulously, the sound of my own laughter ringing in my ears. "What have you done!"
My laughter turned manic, bordering on hysteria, as I grappled with the conflicting emotions swirling inside me. "I'm trying so hard to hurt you," I confessed to the image before me, my voice laced with desperation. "To make you feel the pain you caused me, to make you suffer. But I always end up coming back to you."
Frustration and anger boiled within me, manifesting in clenched fists and gritted teeth. "Why?" I demanded of the photograph, as if it held the answers to all my torment. "Tell me the fuck why!" But of course, there was no answer, only the haunting silence of my own thoughts.
With a sudden surge of rage, I hurled the picture across the room, watching as it collided with the wall and shattered into a thousand pieces. The sound of breaking glass reverberated through the air, mirroring the shattered pieces of my own heart.
For a moment, I stood there, chest heaving with exertion, consumed by the raw intensity of my emotions. And as the echoes of my outburst faded into the stillness of the room, I was left with nothing but the painful realization that no matter how hard I tried to escape her memory, Elena would always hold a piece of my soul captive.
Divorce was never an option, never even a fleeting thought that crossed my mind. Despite the torture and pain that had plagued our relationship, I couldn't bring myself to entertain the idea of letting her go. Elena was a part of me, woven into the very fabric of my being, and I swore to never abandon her.
No matter how much anger and resentment bubbled within me, I couldn't deny the love that still lingered beneath the surface. It was a love that transcended all logic and reason, a bond that refused to be broken by her shitty behavior.
As I held Elena's dress in my hands for what felt like the hundredth time, I couldn't help but feel a sense of being incomplete and longing wash over me. Closing my eyes, I imagined her standing before me, radiant and beautiful in this very garment. With a deep inhale, I brought the fabric to my nose once more, savoring the faint scent of her perfume that still lingered within its fibers.
Wrapping the dress around my neck like a scarf, I allowed myself a moment of solace, reveling in the comfort of her presence, even if only in memory. Settling back into my chair, I let out a sigh, the weight of my emotions pressing heavily upon me.
It wasn't long before Olivia entered the room, her voice hesitant as she stuttered out an apology.
"My Dante I'm really sorry for....."But as her gaze fell upon the broken picture of Elena and the dress draped around me, her anger flared to life like a wildfire.
With a grunt of frustration, Olivia stormed out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway. But I remained seated, unmoved by her outburst. For in that moment, all I could think about was Elena – her laughter, her smile, her warmth – and the void that she had left behind.